Fallen Rogue

by Amy Rench

  She hadn’t been able to use it when she’d been held captive, either. Maybe the power didn’t work indoors. Yet she’d trashed Bobby’s lab using it.

  Before she could explore those thoughts, she sensed motion from Rome. Clearly he wasn’t about to wait for her to save them again. Good choice, considering she couldn’t, anyway.

  Then all heck broke loose. Before she knew what was happening, Rome had rushed two of the men, slamming them against the concrete wall.

  An instant later she went into action, kicking the gun out of the hand of the third man before he could pull the trigger, while ramming her body into the rifle-bearing brute with all her might.

  Identical grunts sounded from both of them as they sailed through the musty air and thumped onto the unforgiving ground side by side. After a few seconds of wrestling and trading punches, she knew she had to do something about that rifle, but he was strong. Very strong. She wasn’t sure just how much more scuffling she could take before he overpowered her or the others paid them attention. Plus she had no idea how Rome was doing with his battle.

  Shifting her body to face him squarely, she clasped onto her enemy’s shoulders, taking a couple blows to her abdomen for her efforts. Bracing her upper body on his, she hoisted her knee straight up to connect solidly with his groin.

  Her attacker instantly froze and rolled to his side, grasping his crotch and wheezing. Hey, a girl’s got to have some tricks, and she wasn’t above fighting dirty when it came to her life. And Rome’s.

  Spinning away from the downed man, Harper peered through the dimness to see two prone bodies on the floor, and Rome fighting the third.

  She scooted across the ground to kick the kneecap of Rome’s assailant. The man crumpled and clutched his knee in agony.

  “C’mon,” Rome said breathlessly, grabbing her hand roughly and pulling her along the tunnel toward the entrance they came in.

  Stumbling in haste, they raced through the winding shadows. At last they rounded the last corner of the dirt passage, arriving at the bunker door just as it crashed inward, almost banging into the two of them.

  Bodies roared through the opening, taking advantage of their surprise. The door slammed shut, blocking the outside light, and they were once again shrouded in near darkness.

  The rapid light and dark buzzed her vision for a quick moment, startling her into immobility. Someone thudded against her, forcing her back against the hard earthpacked wall. Her breath rushed out of her lungs, causing a momentary lapse of awareness.

  Two solid punches hit her face, snapping her head backward, hitting the wall once more. Harper was sure she’d see stars if she could clear her vision.

  A tackle at her thighs took her legs out from under her, and she tumbled to the uneven ground. Levering on her hands, she twisted her body around just as brutal hands yanked her up and pulled her to her feet.

  She was then forced face-first against the wall while someone jerked her wrists around, trying to bind them together. She thrashed frantically to keep it from happening, tasting chalky bits of dirt that crumbled off the wall from the erratic movements.

  Guns fired. The shots echoed loudly in the cramped space. Then the struggle with her hands stopped. And the large body behind her slid to the ground.

  Swinging around, she watched a blur of forms grappling and shards of light dancing in the haze of gun smoke as the muted beams of the corridor flickered off the barrels of moving guns.

  She also spotted the glint of a blade, which descended in a flashing arc to slice her forearm.

  A searing burn stung her flesh. She reflexively reached for the wound. Pulling her hand away, she saw blood drip through her fingers. Ouch, that hurt like a son of a gun.

  The knife ripped at her again. Harper backed away as the swipe passed just in front of her; then she lunged forward, knocking her attacker against the wall.

  She heard the clang of the knife as it hit a rock on the ground. A quick backhand smacked her hard across the face.

  Harper reeled back a few steps as her nose stung and tears welled in her eyes. Running her tongue along her upper lip, she tasted blood, presumably trickling from her tingling nose.

  Enough.

  Planting her right leg firmly on the hard-packed dirt, she recalled some of her kickboxing training and hopped onto her left leg, twisting her right foot through the air to land a solid roundhouse kick to the head of the brute who hit her. He flailed backward, knocking his head against the wall, and then fell flat onto the ground.

  And stayed there.

  The crack of gunfire ripped throughout the shadows again. She whipped around, watching bodies fall. More close-range shots rang and more bodies fell.

  Silence.

  She realized after a cold moment that she was the only one still standing. A murky haze from the gunfire and upset earth veiled the area as she anxiously searched for Rome among the prone figures.

  The leaden tang of blood swamped her senses. She could taste it with every breath. Smell its thick stench. See the dark stains mingle with the shadows on every surface.

  She found Rome lying facedown. As she turned him over, she gasped at the blood covering his face and drenching his coat.

  Was it his? Had he been shot?

  A blinking light and hushed single beep came from her wrist. No. The system that Rome had shut off was about to come on. Her watch warned their sixty-five minutes were up in sixty seconds.

  “Rome,” she whispered, shaking him gently. “Rome.”

  No response. They needed to get out of there. Now. Before more people came. Panic bubbled in her stomach. Were you supposed to move gunshot victims?

  Maybe a little louder. “Rome!” she screamed in true fright, afraid he might really be hurt.

  A strong hand seized her wrist. She jumped back, but the ironclad grip held her steady before she fell over.

  “Stop yelling, Harper,” Rome rasped, and groaned as he struggled to push himself up on his elbows.

  “Sorry,” she spurted, relieved beyond belief that he was okay. She hadn’t started to think about what she’d do without him. She didn’t want to.

  She reached under his arms to help him. He groaned even more, but allowed her to support him. That spoke volumes to her.

  Smiling, she began to stand and heft him up with her. His arm clenched her slashed forearm, making her wince in the dimness as her wound seethed from his heavy touch.

  “Let’s go before more come,” Rome grunted through heavy breaths. Great idea.

  He braced against her as he stood, a bit wobbly. She flung her arm quickly around his lower back, trying to hold him up. He was solid muscle.

  Walking to the bunker doorway, his sagging weight almost knocked her over. Leaving him to lean against the dirt wall, she hurled the door open.

  The bright daylight nearly blinded her, but she grabbed Rome around his waist and hauled him up the uneven stairs and outside with her. Sucking in a lungful of cool air, she relished being in the fresh outdoors and out of that rank corridor.

  Rome moaned, and she chanced a sideways glimpse at him as they staggered away. He looked as if he were about ready to keel over, but lurched forward to snap himself alert. Thank goodness her years of training had made her legs strong; otherwise his jerky motion might have pitched them both face-first onto the ground.

  A beeping noise startled them both. Her watch alarm. Their sixty-five minutes were up. Good thing they’d scurried far enough away for cover where they were hidden from the outside surveillance, just beyond her original hideout. And close to Rome’s stashed motorbike.

  He’d been the one to drive them here on the bike, but he was in no condition to drive now. They’d concealed the Bug about fifteen miles from this location and ridden over the uneven forested terrain to get here.

  In other circumstances, she’d have been excited to drive the unusually quiet dirt bike, one of Rome’s many resources. He’d given her a basic tour of the machine and how to operate it, but right now, she just
hoped she could get back to safety without killing either of them.

  Reaching the bike, she propped Rome against a tree trunk. He was steadier now, but in definite pain, given his intermittent wincing and grunting. The slice in her arm was simply on fire, but she put the burning aside to pull the bike out of its camouflage of leafy brush.

  She rolled it toward Rome and started it up just as he’d shown her. As soon as it rumbled to life, she pulled up next to him.

  She helped him settle onto the back of the wet leather seat, and then quickly moved ahead of him to straddle the bike, grimacing at the sogginess that seeped into her jeans. About to reach behind to secure his hold, he did the job himself by wrapping his shaky arms snuggly around her torso.

  “Rome, are you okay?” she asked softly, knowing she should’ve asked sooner, but also knowing she couldn’t have taken the time. They probably didn’t have the time now, either.

  “Yeah. Okay,” he said with a sigh, and leaned forward against her back, his warm breath reassuring against her damp neck.

  Harper took a moment to pull his arms tighter around her middle, and then put the bike into gear. The drizzly wind streaked through her hair and the hazy sun energized her exhausted body as they sped through the rough forest in a light drizzle.

  Reluctant to take her eyes off the terrain, she chanced a glance over her shoulder at Rome. His eyes were squinted but alert as they raced along.

  Turning her gaze forward, Harper was just in time to see a big black Hummer barreling through the trees, headed straight for them.

  Harper yelped as bullets whizzed past her head. A man was standing through the sunroof, aiming a rifle at them while the huge vehicle continued on a head-on course toward their little motorbike.

  “Holy shit!” Rome’s loud curse reached her ears as more gunfire rang out. “Turn!”

  He didn’t need to tell her twice.

  She veered the bike to the left, nearly skidding the machine out from under them on the loose, wet soil. The Hummer flew past them and slammed on the brakes to angle around.

  Her knuckles strained white with tension as she gripped with all her strength, trying to control the fishtailing bike. Rome began leaning with the motions, which eventually helped her steady the wild twisting.

  Sparing a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw the black monster tear up the earth with its spinning tires. Finally catching enough traction, it began to follow them.

  Great. Just great. How was she going to lose them? She could barely manage this thing. Sure, she’d driven Jet Skis, but they were made to slide around. The bike needed solid footing. Something that was going to be difficult on the leafy, muddy ground.

  Another round of bullets streamed past her as she turned back around. She had to focus on the jarring landscape.

  “Weave, don’t keep a straight line,” Rome shouted.

  One of his arms unwound from her waist. His hand shifted between them as though he was digging around for something. Something solid brushed against her lower back.

  A gun. It was a little frightening that she was beginning to recognize it so easily.

  “Keep it steady,” Rome instructed, and started to remove his other arm from around her.

  “What are you doing?” Harper asked, worried about his stability. She was fighting hard against the rocks and muck to keep from dumping them off the bike while he was wiggling it.

  “I’m going to shoot back while you lose them,” Rome explained simply.

  Oh. Okay. No problem.

  More rustling behind her was followed by a few grunts. She continued to wind across the terrain, zigzagging to keep from being hit by the bullets peppering the drizzly air and foliage around them.

  Harper almost jumped out of the seat when Rome’s arms encircled her to tie his fleece coat around her middle. She looked down to see his hands twist the arms into a tight knot. He tugged on it, pulling her a little with it.

  His hands disappeared and she kept her eyes ahead. Then she pitched forward slightly when his arm snaked up her back to hold on to the coat, levering his body as she felt him twist to face the threat behind them.

  Ah, Rome was using her as an anchor while he fired off a few shots at the Hummer. Though she doubted his one little gun on the back of the bumpy bike could do much.

  “Got one,” Rome called to her.

  Despite the dire circumstances, she couldn’t help grinning as she stood—well, sat—corrected.

  Her body jerked a little as Rome shifted in the wet leather seat while she maneuvered over some slick granite. She glanced behind, hearing the deep rumbling of the Hummer’s huge engine drown out the bike’s own motor as the big monster began to gain ground on them, plowing easily through the jagged, muddy terrain.

  Another smattering of bullets filled the air, and she knew she had to do something. She had a feeling the chase couldn’t go on forever, and at the rate they were going, the Hummer would be on top of them soon.

  She gave a fleeting thought to using her psi powers now that she felt a little stronger. Out in the open, it had never failed her.

  Looking inside herself, she began to focus on the energy inside her mind.

  “Harper!” Rome yelled as she skimmed a jutting rock, almost dislodging them.

  “Sorry.” She cringed, glancing around at the blurring greens and browns of the forest as the rain slapped against her face. Apparently not a good idea right now to try out her tenuous control of the power. She could kill the two of them before she saved them.

  Taking a deep breath of the fresh damp air, she looked hard at the trees to their sides. At the cutting paths that crisscrossed through the course they were riding. At the hills that rolled ahead.

  Harper knew this area. She and Bobby had hiked it many times before, though she had no idea just how close they’d been to the lab all those times.

  The bike slanted dangerously from the harsh recoil of another shot from Rome’s gun. Struggling to keep it under control as they raced over moss and mud, she tried to recall everything she knew about this area.

  Where could she lose the Hummer? The metal beast was mowing down the vegetation, but she didn’t dare try to slalom the trees to the sides. She was afraid she’d land them smack-dab in the middle of a solid trunk, so she’d stayed on the rough trail that traversed the dense tree line.

  “Do you know this area?” she called over her shoulder to Rome.

  “A little.” He paused to aim and shoot once more. She anticipated the shot this time and swerved along with the motion. “Just from the map.” He sounded a little breathless. A lot breathless, actually.

  Goodness, she’d forgotten about his wounds. And hers. She flexed her arm to test the slice in her forearm. A little tight, but not the heavy stinging of before.

  “I think there’s a small gorge up ahead,” Rome hollered, jerking her body backward while he reloaded his weapon, his arm still looped through the coat tied around her waist.

  Gorge? Oh, holy cow. Rome was right. But it wasn’t a small gorge. It was a wide ravine. Wide and deep.

  Sharpening her focus, she peered through the spitting rain, looking forward for the signs of the fateful ravine that just might save them.

  Or kill them for good.

  Harper recalled that the only warning of the ridge was the thinning of trees and a small hill that dipped just before the edge. If she remembered correctly, the drop was about the length of the Olympic pools she swam. Probably even a touch more than the fifty meters.

  The distance across the ravine was the real problem. She wasn’t sure. Twenty or thirty feet. Maybe farther.

  She noticed a rise in the terrain as she swerved around a thick section of a downed tree. The ravine was just ahead.

  Now what?

  She flirted with the idea of jumping the chasm, then shrugged it off with a smirk. Was she crazy? She was barely keeping the bike stable on the ground. How in the world did she think she could run it off the ledge and make it to the other side? Could this bike
even do something like that with both of them on it?

  She’d seen motocross commercials where they did flips and jumps. So maybe…Oh for crying out loud. Was she seriously thinking about jumping?

  Another barrage of bullets whizzed by her, smacking the large rock in front of her, the sparking chips of granite nearly showering them as she sped past the boulder at close range.

  Yes. Harper was seriously thinking about it. She didn’t really see any other option. The Hummer was gaining on them and seemed to have an unlimited arsenal, so they couldn’t stop. The trees were too thick to try to weave the motorbike through. Turning around would be suicide.

  Rome was too injured to fight or run. And she didn’t know whether she could chance revving up and releasing her psi power before it was too late.

  “Damn it all,” Rome yelled. “I’m out of ammo.”

  Her body jostled forward, and then back as Rome dislodged his arm from the coat loop. He twisted around with a grunt and settled against her back, locking his arms around her waist.

  “Where are we going?” His warm breath huffed against her ear, tickling her damp skin. “I thought the gorge was ahead.”

  “It is,” Harper confirmed, turning her head so he could hear. Should she share her idea? Sure, why not. He had to come with her anyway. “We’re going over it.”

  She waited for him to yell at her in disbelief. No sound came. She shifted to glance over her shoulder. No wonder he was quiet. His jaw was clenched so tight, she was surprised he could still breathe. She could have sworn she saw smoke come out of his ears.

  She faced front again to see the hill quickly approaching. Just beyond it was the ledge. And beyond that, the ravine.

  “Harper, I’m not so sure about this.” He tightened his grip on her body.

  “Me neither.” She grinned against the drizzle blowing against her face. It was crazy. “But what choice do we have?” She was crazy.

  “There’s always a choice,” Rome roared at her, just as a bullet hit the left side mirror, blowing it off the bike. She turned to meet his wide gaze with her own. “And it’s a good choice.” He nodded at her.