by C. M. Wright
The man is quite tall, and his cheeks and nose are red from the cold; but his intense blue eyes give no hint that the temperature is affecting him in any way beyond that.
“Exactly what is it that makes you think we'd believe a damned word you say?” the man asks Will, his voice as calm as if he were asking the time.
“I'm not sure how I can give you proof that we aren't with the gang, except my own word, which I know isn't enough. I guess it's going to have to be your call,” Will says with a shrug.
The man stares Will down for a very long time, long enough that I'm this close to screaming from the pain in my arms from holding the gun up so long. Finally, he lowers his gun and lightly pushes the woman's gun down too. Our group does the same, although I admit that I drop my arms a hell of a lot faster than the rest do.
Definitely not feeling very smooth and badass right now.
Will and the other man begin to walk toward each other while the rest of us stay behind. The woman crouches down, but never takes her eyes off of us. We just stand and wait as the two men talk, their voices too low to carry over.
Eventually, they shake hands and return to their previous positions. I continue watching the other two and can clearly see the woman is not at all happy with what the man tells her. Her arms and hands are flying everywhere, and if looks could kill, he'd be a dead man.
Turning most of my attention back to Will as he begins to speak, I still make sure I can see what's going on at the other end of the roof.
“I've asked him, Walker, if he would like to join us, considering we have the same goal in mind. He eventually agreed, but said his wife, Amanda, wouldn't be very happy. Oh, and there's something else you all should know, they have–”
Will stops speaking when I spin to my right, my gun raised and ready, aimed directly at a tan colored tarp that's crinkling and moving. I had noticed the bulge before but, like an idiot, I just assumed it covered supplies; but when the tarp finally falls away, a young girl with long dark blond hair is revealed.
Walker - first or last name, I don't know – immediately has his own gun up and aimed at me.
Will moves closer to me, lifts his hand and lowers my gun.
“Chill, Rambo. It's only their daughter.”
I relax and shrug, then call out a soft “Sorry” to the family. Walker lowers his gun and waves off my apology, then turns back to his wife and daughter, the latter of which is shooting lasers straight at me.
I just have to say that the daughter has got the go-to-hell glare mastered. I think I'm gonna get along just fine with her. That, or we will hate each other with a passion. It could go either way.
“As I was saying,” Will continues after giving me a pointed look, “they have a daughter. We're going to help them pack and move their things as soon as he gives the word.”
We wait a few more minutes, all of us watching the drama unfold across the way. We know the moment the husband wins and the wife gives up. When Walker waves us over, we slowly move forward, not wanting to spook the wife and piss off the daughter even more. Will introduces us to the family and hands are shaken all around, although Amanda is clearly still not happy about joining us. I do my best to make her feel welcome by giving her a small smile, which I think she attempts to mirror, but it looks more like a grimace to me.
The daughter is a tough one. She refuses to shake hands with anyone and instead crosses her arms over her chest and gives all of us that lovely glare. I give her a wide grin, a wink, then I turn away and begin lifting some of their bags' straps over my shoulders.
The only voices are that of Will and Walker, the rest of us stay silent. Once all of the family's belongings are gathered up, we lead them back through the building and over to our own. Once there, they are immediately overwhelmed by our welcoming committee. Will and I evict the current occupants of one of the apartments for them, and once they've overseen that all their items are accounted for and left for them, we ask them to follow us into our own room.
Will gets a quick update from the guys watching the Krew building – nothing new to report there – then shows the three new members to a seat in the dining room around the table. Will asks me to join them and I settle in a seat between my husband and Amanda. Walker sits to Will's left, and the couple's daughter sits next to her dad with her arms crossed, slouched down in the chair, which reminds me of my own two teens when they know they're about to be lectured or are incredibly bored with us “old people”.
“As I told you when I introduced everyone to you earlier, this is my wife, Canada. We have a pretty large settlement north of here, with plenty of room for more if you would like to join us. I don't expect you to accept now, but I do hope by the time we're done here, that you might all feel a little more comfortable with us. Whether you choose to join us or not, it's always good to know there are others out there you can turn to if you should need them. I'll make sure you have our broadcast channel and a CB radio before you leave. And I'll have directions to our place written up for you, as well.”
“Sure you want to do that? What if we're actually with a larger group and decide we want what you've got?” Walker says in a quiet, confident tone.
I can't help but smirk at him and wait for Will's answer.
Will's face becomes hard as stone and his gorgeous brown eyes immediately become pitch-black. He practically growls as he says, “I'd love to see you try.”
Walker grins and his blue eyes sparkle. His wife and daughter are not amused in the least, but hopefully they lighten up soon. Otherwise, this could turn out being a lot rougher on them than it has to be.
“I just have one question.”
We all turn to Amanda and I'm a little surprised to hear the strength in her tone. Her voice is smooth and confident. The reason I'm so surprised is because if you were to judge her voice by her body language so far shown with everyone but her husband and daughter, she appears to be shy, timid, and scared.
“Why in the hell do you have Krew members here in your group?” Her eyes lock on Will, and I instantly see who her daughter inherited her glare from.
I continue studying the threesome as Will explains what has led to the addition of the teens to our group who had been forced into the Krew. I decide that Amanda is a hell of a lot stronger than she thinks she is, and I hope I get the chance to see her come out of her shell. Walker is a large man, intimidating in his height. Though not a skinny guy, he damn sure isn't fat either. He appears to be a serious, no nonsense man; but when he smiles and his blue eyes shine, you can see a teddy bear hiding closely underneath the exterior.
Their daughter...
“Excuse me,” I interrupt the conversation and they all stop and turn to me. I wasn't paying any attention to what was being said, so I hope I didn't interrupt at a critical moment, but curiosity is killing me! “I'm sorry, but I have to know. What's your daughter's name?”
Complete silence for much too long. I'm just about to tell them to forget it, when the girl herself speaks up.
“Holly. What's it to ya?”
I give her a grin and raise my eyes at her awesome teenage attitude.
“Well, it's nice to meet you, Holly.” She glares even more at me, and I almost lose it and allow the laughter to escape. “I just have to say, I bet you are one bad ass young lady.”
Her glare falters and her mouth drops slightly in shock. Her dad turns his head away and covers his grin with one huge hand. I hear her mother gasp next to me, but I keep my eyes on Holly.
Finally, the girl gives me a half smile. Her entire body responds to the compliment by straightening and she holds her head up little higher. The conversation begins back up around the two of us, but we continue ignoring the others as I watch her watch me. I know she's trying to decide if she likes me, if we could possibly get along, and if I'm being sincere or not. And I am. I totally am. This girl reminds me of me so much it's scary.
Oh. yeah. I think I've found my mini-me!
Chapter Seven
Fi
nally, the time has come. After several hours of discussing whether to take the chance or not, we've all decided we will be sending the teens back to infiltrate the Krew building. None of us are happy about it, none of us are comfortable with it, but it has to be done. If we don't have someone on the inside, more of the innocents could be hurt than if we do.
We can only hope and pray that none of our group is killed because of this decision.
I know Will changed his mind based on my intuition about the teens, and that scares the hell out of me. On one hand. On the other, everything in me is screaming these kids can be trusted.
Now, if I can only trust myself again.
Everything is going to depend on how well the teens can act, how well the news of the death of their leader is taken, and how well the other Krew members respond to the new leader, Sandro.
Too many 'if's' and I don't like it a damn bit; but we just don't have a choice if we want a chance of saving most, if not all, of the innocent people trapped there.
Now, at three o'clock on the dot, with the afternoon sun beating down and warming things up, the teens are escorted to one of the Krew's trucks we'd brought back with us. We make sure to coat the teens in dirt and dust, tear their clothes, and make them look as rough as possible. Just as they begin moving out of the garage, the feeling of something not quite right that I've carried inside since the plan was made, finally reveals just what's been bothering me.
“Stop! Stop!” I scream and beat at the truck as I run toward the driver's door.
My brother Ricky is in front of the truck and signals Sandro to stop. I rush up to my brother and the others who have gathered and are waiting on me, all with looks of concern and confusion, but I can't speak and am bent over at the waist; my sides, stomach and chest screaming in pain. The terror from almost screwing this entire plan up and getting these kids killed, plus the running and screaming have taken its toll on both my lungs and my ankle. I gasp for air as I hear the impatient demands for information from some of the others, who have no idea why I've shut the plan down so suddenly just when things had finally gotten started.
Will orders everyone to keep their mouths shut and comes over to me. I feel him rubbing my back as he softly tells me to breathe slower and calm down. Eventually, I'm able to feel my diaphragm fill with air and I straighten to a full stand. I know my face is red, and I most likely still look like a complete maniac, but we were so close, so damn close, to sending these kids to be murdered.
“We can't do this,” I gasp out, my throat on fire now. “We can not send Sandro and his friends in there! Not like this.”
The others begin to get loud and some are downright angry with me. Even Will is glaring at me. I attempt to rub the pain from my chest and suck in a deep breath to try and calm my mind down enough so that I can explain exactly why we can't do this. At least, not this way.
“Look, how the hell do you think it's going to look if only Sandro and his friends return? Those men are evil, but unfortunately, they aren't as stupid as we wish they were. It's not going to be so easy to fool them. Do you really think the Krew will believe that the only survivors left are the four teens who had arrived together?”
Silence fills the air as every mind works over what I had just said. Expressions turn to horror as they realize how very bad things could have turned out. The teens own expressions are mirror images of paleness and terror. Sandro gulps deeply, then hangs his head.
“Sandro, this isn't your fault. None of us thought of it. None of us!” I tell him as I grab hold of his shoulders.
Sandro raises his head, his eyes filled with tears, and I want to fold him into my arms and keep him safe forever. But he has a job to do, and he's the only one who can do this.
“Sandro,” I begin, then raise my voice and look around as I continue, “Everyone! This is still a good plan, we just need to make a few changes.”
“What changes?” someone calls out in a very annoyed tone.
“We keep one of them here,” I tell them as I look at the teens and wait for their reactions.
“No! You aren't separating us. We are a team and we stick together,” Jade practically snarls at me.
I turn my attention to Sandro when he steps toward Jade.
“Jade, she's right. The only way our group can stay together is if we separate. Otherwise, they will kill us. Or even worse, they'll keep us around to torture until we beg for death. It won't be for long, but it has to be this way. Canada is right.”
I feel a moment of pride toward Sandro for stepping up into the role of leader of their group, whether he wants it or not; and they need him, whether they know it or not.
Jade takes a step back and air rushes from her lungs. Her eyes flash with betrayal at Sandro, but he says nothing as he lets her think about the situation. Anyone watching her can see the moment resignation settles in her big brown eyes.
“Fine, I understand. Who will be staying?” she asks, dread that it will be her makes her voice thick with emotion.
But Sandro turns to Libby and she nods in agreement. Libby's expression makes it clear she has no desire to return to the Krew's building.
“You should send someone with them to act as a prisoner,” Walker offers.
I immediately open my mouth to shoot that plan down, but the majority happen to agree with him. Walker offers to be their prisoner, and his wife lights up the garage with the power of her anger.
“The hell you will! They will kill you, then where does that leave me and our daughter? Do you even give a damn about us?” Venom drips from every word.
Nope. She is not a happy wife.
I open my mouth again to back her up, but Will grabs my arm and pulls me back against him. His breath is hot in my ear when he softly tells me that this isn't my fight.
I agree; it isn't my fight; but I'm against anyone being taken as a prisoner. She's right. Once they find out he supposedly had something to do with killing their beloved leader, they aren't going to welcome him with open arms. The man will be lucky if he even has time to take one final breath once he walks through those doors.
We all watch the couple argue. Walker remains firm in his decision, but Amanda quickly flips through emotions as they hit her. In the end, all the screaming, the threats, her tears – none of it works. Walker is going and that's final. I want so badly to add my two cents, so I break away from Will, and of course I attempt to do just that.
“Walker –” I begin, but am quickly cut off as I feel Will's hands yank me back toward him.
“Again, this isn't your fight. Freaking leave it alone,” Will growls in my ear.
I turn my head and meet his flaming eyes. I narrow mine and jerk away from him. His sigh and curse of frustration are at my back, but Walker and his wife are in front of me. That's where my focus is right now.
“Look, I get that you want to be a hero, Walker, but you're wife is right. She and your daughter need you. The odds of you coming back alive are incredibly low. Don't do this,” I plead with him. I can tell he's going to listen to me as well as he's listened to his wife, because his eyes harden even more, his body tightens and he seems to become taller; but mostly, I can tell by the hard set of his jaw and the red beginning to stain his face.
He grabs his wife and moves her next to me. Facing us both, he grins and says, “There. Now you two can bitch about me to each other, and I can focus on what I need to do before I go.”
“Moron,” his wife snarls.
“Idiot!” I shout in his face, then turn and walk past Will, who lets me know that he's still pissed by turning away from me. I lean my back against a nearby wall and rely on the concrete hold me up.
Freaking men!
“So is the little love-fest over?” my brother, Ricky, asks.
Amanda and I glare at him, but the other “freaking men” gather around him and begin to make new plans. Amanda comes over next to me and collapses against the wall at our backs, her frustration and terror clear enough for anyone to see.
&nbs
p; “Canada, what the hell am I going to do? I'm so damned scared.”
I lean back against the wall next to her but instead of consoling her, I'm lost in my own thoughts. After a very long moment, I jerk to a stand and turn to her. Blocking the mend view with my back, I run my own plan across to her. When I'm finished, we both turn and face the men with innocent smiles. Will is speaking when he looks up and sees us, and whatever he had been about to say is forgotten.
“Canada, whatever the hell you've got spinning in that head of yours, you can just forget it. It's not going to happen.”
“Amanda,” Walker says her name is a warning that tells her he knows that she too is up to something he isn’t going to like.
But the two of us only grin wider and walk toward, then around, the men. We hear their clothes and coats swish and rustle as they turn to follow us, but we ignore them. Finding a nice pile of dried leaves and dirt in a corner close to the exit, Amanda and I get to work.
Gasps of shock burst from the men when I rip Amanda's shirt, leaving her stomach and most of her bra bare, but when Amanda tears my own shirt from the center at the top to almost the bottom, the men become loud as they ask what the hell we think we're doing. One man asks if we're about to give them a female wresting match to entertain them. I just wink at Amanda when she rolls her eyes to show me what she thinks of the idiotic suggestion.
We then each take a handful of dirt and smear it all over our own faces, clothes, and bare skin. Finally, we use our fingers to turn our hair into a tangled dirty mess. We take a few moments to inspect each other and make some final adjustments.
Finished, we turn to the guys and announce, “We're ready to go!”
At first we're met with a silence caused by astonishment and shock; but one by one, the men find their voices. Their very loud, pissed and annoying voices.