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The Last War Box Set, Vol. 2 [Books 5-7]

Page 69

by Schow, Ryan


  “I promise I will,” he said.

  When he left, when he saw the absolute nightmare he and Marcus were running toward, he had a puckering of his own. That really bad feeling he had just got about a hundred times worse. He hadn’t broken a promise to Bailey before, but right then he couldn’t help thinking there was a first time for everything.

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Indigo was first out the door, bow in hand, arrow seated on the bow string. A Molotov Cocktail came flaming out of the air right at her. It exploded at the wall just to her left, shards of glass hitting her arms and the side of her face, flaming alcohol splashing the side of her.

  She immediately caught fire.

  Sloughing off her bow and quiver of arrows, she dropped to the ground and rolled on the affected area, then immediately felt Rex pulling her over, patting out the remaining fire in swift, frenzied movements.

  People were running past her because more of these flaming bottles were sailing overhead and striking the sides and the top of the building. Sniper fire crack, crack, cracked from the top of the roof as all hell broke loose.

  Indigo scrambled to her feet, grabbed her weapons and said, “Go!”

  Rex said, “You sure?”

  “Of course I am!” she said, looking at him as if being on fire was no big thing.

  Rider, Jagger and Stanton were at the courtyard wall, armed and itching to go. All they needed was a brief lull in the action. Rex joined them, followed by Indigo who acted like nothing had happened.

  “You alright?” Jagger asked.

  “It’s like a sunburn,” she said, waving him off.

  When they hit that lapse in action, Rider drew back the gate and the five of them poured out into the street. That’s when Rider pointed into the dim shadows across the street and said, “Who the hell are they?”

  Two men were moving up the sidewalk, crouched, armed and moving like military.

  “Can’t say for sure,” Rex said. “But they look like they’re not with them.”

  “Does that mean they’re with us?” Stanton asked.

  “I guess,” Rider answered, breaking into a run. “Just keep an eye on them!”

  Just then, three guys came at the two strangers and in seconds the two men put all three down by gunfire. Rider and the team spread the distance between themselves by a few feet, then triple-timed it up the side of the street opposite their two mystery troopers.

  Rider pulled up short when they saw about thirty men standing the next block up sling-shotting Molotov Cocktails through the air. They were using two man sling shots that looked like the old water balloon launchers.

  Unbelievable.

  Everyone pulled up behind him, but said nothing.

  Five against thirty, Indigo thought. Or maybe seven against thirty, if the two mystery men turned out to be solid, which was what it was looking like.

  Various combat scenarios took shape in her mind. She felt her resolve tightening as the stakes climbed. By those numbers, she was responsible for six kills, five if she was honest with herself. Eyes taking in everything, her heart big and ready for war, she was resolute that she would take out six.

  A barrage of three or four or five flaming bottles soared overhead, exploding into the college walls and windows by the sound of it. There was an orange glow in the sky where the college was. The sight of that glow sent waves of sickness crashing through Indigo. Chewing her molars, setting her jaw, she vowed a swift and brutal reprisal, a no-holds-barred retaliation for what was happening.

  “That’s our home,” Indigo growled.

  Rex stood there quietly. She knew exactly what he was thinking. He was going to gut these idiots before sunrise. If she could help it, she’d join him.

  Taking aim at the morons up the street, Indigo launched a series of arrows in, hitting each of her targets as planned. The two mystery men across the street saw the panicked flurry of activity by the enemy, along with several men going down.

  They used the distraction to attack. Rider followed, the team fast on his heels.

  Indigo moved quickly, every so often her eyes darting over to the two guys moving swiftly through the shadows. The lead was a big man with what looked like a beard. He’d moved out from behind the burnt Buick they were crouched behind, and dipped into the shadows cast by the buildings against the moonlight.

  His partner, a smaller man with longish hair, followed him, matching the big man’s pace. Rider also matched their pace, moving with them into the faint light of a line of guys sling-shotting these ragtag bombs at the school and now at them.

  One Molotov Cocktail shot like a line drive past them to where Indigo had been a moment before. This startled them because a shot like that straight to the face or body was bound to kill then burn.

  As that same guy was lighting another rag inside another bottle, Indigo took aim, waited until the lighter had the slingshot pulled nearly all the way back, then loosed the arrow. It zipped through the air, hit the top of the bottle and struck the kid in the chest. He let go of the band at the same time the glass exploded, launching glass bits, flame and accelerant all over the two men holding either side of the gigantic sling shot.

  Three people now caught fire, drawing some serious praise from her team. “Good God, I didn’t know how good you were with that thing,” Jagger said.

  “She’s surgical,” Rex said.

  The bearded mystery man and his partner opened fire on the remaining teams of shooters. The four men raced in for support, but Indigo hung back, sending in four arrows, each striking her prey, but none of them exactly where she wanted.

  Things were moving too fast.

  Since she left home, and Dirt Alley, she’s been lax on her practice, and now she was feeling it. Throwing her bow over her shoulder, locking it in, she drew her hunting knife and ran in to complete the kills. She would have her six kills and then some.

  Under the wave of what briefly resembled some brutal, medieval violence, guys were being beaten, stabbed and shot to death. One of the guys lighting the Molotov Cocktails took a round to the chest. He dropped the lit bottle he was trying to throw at Rider, which exploded. He dropped to his knee into the flames where he immediately caught fire. Screaming, his entire body being swept under the flame, he managed to stagger to his feet. Rider drilled him with two quick and merciful shots to his head, putting him out of everyone’s misery.

  By then, Indigo was wading into the sea of dead and dying bodies with her knife bared, sticking everything still moving, everything still alive. Stanton was on the other side of the street, looking like a madman as he did the same thing.

  When the last of this force of degenerates died in the street like a dog, they all stood in reverent silence, looking at the carnage they’d created.

  Rex startled everyone when he said, “We’ve got company!”

  Indigo tore one of her arrows from the dead, got hit with a splash of bloody residue—which she didn’t bother wiping away—then dropped to a knee and unleashed eight arrows on the mob of fresh soldiers.

  Rex grabbed her by the arm, pulled her up and said, “Get to cover!”

  A barrage of gunfire erupted as they ran for cover.

  Within minutes, she started hearing the guys saying, “I’m out!”

  She and Rex were tucked into the shadows of a dark, but shallow alcove. Rex made sure his body was in front of hers. He fired off two more rounds and then his slide popped.

  “I’m out, too,” he groused. “I’m out and we’re screwed with an F.”

  Indigo peeked her head out. Saw Rider and Stanton behind an old car a few yards up, and everyone else in alcoves similar to hers and Rex’s.

  Much of the new wave of young soldiers had been dispensed of as evidenced by the number left standing. She counted seven men, all armed, all firing on the guys. One turned, fired and a bullet caught the stucco in front of her, blowing off shards of plaster. He was a tall black man, lithe and steely eyed from what she could see.

  Indigo je
rked her head back, managed to avoid any more damage to her face. She touched her cheek, pulled away blood. Maybe it was hers, maybe it was blood from earlier.

  “What are you doing?!” Rex hissed.

  “Getting a peek at the landscape,” she said, cool to the letter.

  “Well don’t,” he hissed. “We got this.”

  “You haven’t got squat,” she whispered. “Your gun’s empty.”

  With that, she darted out, sprinting for the closest parked car. Gunfire followed her, pocked the asphalt just behind her heels. Safely down, she loaded her bow, drew back, then popped up and let the arrow loose. In rapid fire succession, she loaded, drew back then sent two more flying.

  All three struck the black man in the head and heart.

  Someone screamed, “Bear!” and then everyone who remained open fired on Indigo.

  Seizing on the moment, their two guardian angels rushed the remaining group, zig zagging their way into gunfire. Seemingly, the two psychopaths managed to not get hit. The bearded beast and his sidekick went absolutely haywire on the remaining force. But not before Rider, Jagger, Rex and Stanton joined the mix. The death of the last soldiers was a gruesome slaying that would certainly haunt their dreams, but then it was over.

  She stood, walked out into the open and that’s when everything changed. The bearded guy’s friend turned to her, looked at her. She looked back at him. He glanced down at one of the guys with an arrow sticking out of his chest, then he came walking toward her at a rather brisk pace.

  “Indigo?” he said.

  She knew that voice. Her body stiffened and tears immediately hit her eyes. Standing there in the middle of the street, bow in hand, a few arrows still left in her quiver, the goosebumps rushed down her arms and legs as she tried to process all this.

  “Dad?” she said, unable to steady her voice.

  He hit her with the kind of hug she couldn’t let go of. She started sobbing right there in the street, gore splashed all over her, her bloodstream shot through with adrenaline, her emotions so scattered and rattled she couldn’t contain herself anymore.

  “Oh my God, Indigo,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. He pulled back, brushed her hair off her face and said, “It’s really you. Oh my God, baby, it’s really you!”

  She couldn’t let go, didn’t want to.

  “I thought you were dead,” she cried in a hiccupping, shaky tone. “I thought you were gone.”

  Suddenly Rex was there, too.

  “Nick?” he said. Rex didn’t know her father, but she told him so much about the man they might as well have been best friends.

  “Yes?” he said.

  “Oh man,” Rex said. “This is one for the books! I’m Rex, and I’m damn glad to meet you!”

  The men gathered around the two of them, forcing Indigo to let go of her dad. Nick and Marcus introduced themselves to the group, who thanked them for stepping in.

  Marcus said, “We caught your people coming out the front and sent them to the park. We’ve got a friendly in there, woman named Bailey, and the guys that are lying dead in the street, we put them down as they were firing on your people.”

  “Thank you,” Rider said, shaking the big man’s hand.

  “Do you have someplace else to stay?” Marcus asked. “Because unless you’ve got some marshmallows or a pack of weenies, there’s nothing left to do but watch the whole building burn.”

  “That was our home,” Jagger said. “We didn’t expect this, so we don’t have a Plan B.”

  “Yet,” Stanton said.

  “There are some houses back in our neighborhood,” Nick said, clearing his throat. “We’ve got a woman and seven kids we have to get back to, but there are empty houses all around her. It’s not as defensible as the college might have been, but the neighborhood looks vacant.”

  “You’ve been home?” Indigo said.

  “That’s how we found you,” he said, pulling her into a sideways hug. “You left the note and the address.”

  “Thank God she did,” Rex said. “You guys really made the difference.”

  “Did anyone see Gunderson?” Rider asked.

  No one answered.

  “He was telling the truth about the attack, but he was wrong on the time,” Stanton said. In the moonlight, Indigo thought she could see blood spatter all over Macy’s dad. She looked at him a long time, hardly able to recognize this man. He’d changed so much in the last couple of months. The guy was a warrior, every bit as savage as Marcus, Jagger or Rex.

  “Yeah, well maybe the timeline threw him, too,” Rex said. “Or maybe he got caught.”

  “You know what we have to do,” Rider said, looking gravely serious. “We have to finish this.”

  “We don’t have any ammo,” Stanton said.

  “We can get their guns and ammo,” Indigo said. “And I have arrows.”

  “You’re not going,” Rex said, stern. “You’re done.”

  Her father looked at Rex, who was looking at her, and she was making those eyes, the ones that said, not now.

  “You want to tell him?” Rex asked. Now she was frowning. This was hardly the time for her to surprise him since she still wasn’t sure if he was real.

  “Tell me what?” Nick asked.

  She looked up at him and said, “Looks like you’re going to be a grandpa.”

  The look of delight and wonder on her father’s face was priceless. “Really?” he said. She nodded and he swept her up in his arms and hugged her tight. When he set her down, he looked over at Rex and said, “I’m assuming you’re the father?”

  “I am,” Rex said. Her father took Rex’s hand, gave it a good shake, then said, “Congratulations you guys, both of you.”

  “This changes nothing, though,” Indigo said, “I’m coming with you guys and that’s final.”

  “You need to take your people back to our neighborhood, find them places to stay,” Nick said gently. “As I’m sure you know, most of the houses on 24th Street burnt down, but 23rd is intact. So that’s where we’re set up. That’s where we should take everyone for now.”

  He gave her the address on 23rd, said a woman named Maria was there, then said, “There’s a woman there with your mom down at the park. Her name is Bailey. She’s with me. Be sure to introduce yourself and tell her you found me, okay? That will be important to her.”

  “When you say she’s with you—”

  “She’s with me.”

  “Did you see Mom?” she asked.

  “Yes,” her father said. “So did Bailey.”

  “Any fireworks?”

  “Not yet,” he replied. “You’re okay doing this?”

  “No, but I’m going to anyway. For the record, I’d rather be on the front line with you guys.”

  Just then Cincinnati, Macy and Atlanta came trotting up the street. They formally introduced themselves to Marcus and Nick, then Rider said, “Nick, Marcus, this isn’t your fight so we don’t expect—”

  “I’m at home in the hysteria of war,” Marcus said.

  “Yeah, count me in, too,” Nick said.

  “Dad,” Indigo pleaded. “You just got here. Maybe you could come with me.”

  “Sweetheart, you can’t imagine the hell we’ve been through and survived. None of us are the same people we started this war as. Including you. That means we’ll be safe. It means we’ll be okay.”

  She kissed him, hugged him one last time, then said, “Just promise me you’ll make it back home to us.”

  “I promise,” he said, making yet another promise he wasn’t sure he could keep.

  By then, Macy and Atlanta were gathering up the guns, checking magazines and chambers, checking the bodies for spare ammo.

  “You don’t expect to come with us, do you?” Rider said to the girls.

  “You going to stop us?” Cincinnati asked, holding her ground.

  “Sin,” Stanton said, “we don’t know what we’re in for up there. From what Gunderson said, they were hundreds of guys up there,
and we’ve only got about thirty or forty of them here.”

  “All the more reason for us to join you,” she said.

  “We could just walk away,” Atlanta said. “Go with everyone away from here and never look back.”

  “They burned our house down,” Rider hissed.

  No one said anything until Atlanta broke the silence and said, “We’re coming whether you like it or not.”

  “No,” he said.

  “It was our house, too!” she said.

  “No,” he growled. “And that’s final.”

  “But this is what we trained for,” Atlanta said. “You need us.”

  “We need you alive,” Cincinnati said.

  “You’re going with them, Sin,” Stanton said, eliciting a hard stare from the woman. “You and Macy.”

  She nodded her head, held her tongue.

  “Indigo?” Cincinnati said. “Girls?”

  Indigo stood there, looking mightily uncomfortable. She’d taken her pound of flesh, though. She’d left her mark. Now she was coming to terms with the fact that she had a child growing inside her, and if something happened to her, neither Rex nor her father would survive that. So she had to go, trust they would be okay, even if she was downright terrified they wouldn’t be. She kissed Rex, then said good-bye to her father again.

  Feeling alone, sick to her stomach leaving them, she tried to hold her emotions. She wasn’t doing a very good job. As she and the girls headed down the street to the park where she would meet up with her mother and her father’s new girlfriend, Bailey, she looked over her shoulder one last time, wondering if that was the last she’d see of one of them, or all of them.

  This was a war, she thought. And in war there are always casualties.

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  Indigo introduced herself to Bailey. The woman seemed overwhelmed to finally be meeting her. Obviously, her father told Bailey a lot about Indigo, to the point that Bailey might feel she knew her. The woman was beautiful and friendly, and she’d already seemed to have hit it off with Margot. Indigo didn’t know what to make of this. Maybe it was a good thing. Margot had changed. She’d been great lately. Her energy was up, her moods were up, and overall she’d been pleasant to be around.

 

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