Winter's Legacy: Future Days (Winter's Saga Book 6)

by Karen Luellen

  The screech of metal bullets puncturing the trunk of the sedan rang in his ears, but he didn’t waver.

  The coppery taste of his blood enveloped his tongue, but he didn’t hesitate.

  All he saw was the mindless drone of a metahuman sneering from behind the wheel of the SUV. With cold calculation, Evan exhaled and pulled the trigger.

  Instantly, the driver’s head flew back, his meaty hands tossed up like rag doll’s into the night air. On its own, the SUV pulled hard right, careened through a railing and sprung airborne. It spun like a football in the black night sky before it landed and slid metal against palm-laden dune. It came to rest in a heap, like a can crushed against a brick wall, but Evan wasn’t watching the crash. He was watching the second SUV as it lunged to speed up beside their shot up sedan.

  At that angle, Evan knew he couldn’t shoot, flame or bullet, without risking their safety.

  Creed was thinking the same thing. “Grab the steering wheel!” he hollered to Evan.

  Immediately, Evan fisted his left hand to extinguish the flame, spun in his seat and grabbed the wheel Creed had just relinquished.

  The Beretta was off Creed’s lap and firing faster than a human eye could have followed.

  Pop, pop, pop!

  Three shots, three kills.

  “Damn, you’re good with a gun,” Evan exhaled as he watched the driver-less truck plow into a tall palm and burst into flames.

  Creed took the wheel back from Evan and both boys allowed themselves a moment to just breathe.

  “Did that really just happen?” Cole’s groggy voice broke the dead pause.

  “We’re getting the hell out of Cairo,” Creed said in response and pulled the vehicle off the two-lane highway in search of the fastest route to the billboard.

  Evan crawled carefully into the back seat. He first checked his brother, Alik.

  “How’s Al?” Creed asked, worry clearly framing his voice.

  “The longer that oily poison stays on his skin, the more damage it’s doing. He’s in bad shape, but at least he’s still breathing.”

  “We’re getting you help, Al,” Creed called over his shoulder at his half-brother. “Just focus on breathing and we’ll get you to the family asap.”

  Evan wanted to put a reassuring hand on his brother, but he didn’t know where he could touch him without causing more pain.

  Evan moved on to check Cole. “Cole, buddy. You okay?” Evan asked, gently shaking his shoulder.

  “Ow, Maze! Get off me!” Cole waved at Evan weakly before his head lolled to the side.

  Evan smirked despite himself. “Cole’s drifting in and out of consciousness, muttering in his delirium. I think he’ll be okay.”

  “Good. That smartass has really started to grow on me.” Creed shook his head remembering their rivalry over Meg. “How’s the girl?”

  Evan hesitated. He was almost afraid to know. Images of her smiling face flashed in his mind and he forced himself to reach out and search for a pulse in her throat. Though his right hand was steady, inside he was a raging mess of emotions. Her ghostly, pastel coloring seemed to make her glow behind the curtain of her golden hair.

  Time ticked by as his skilled fingers searched. Worry lines etched deeper into his brow with each passing moment.

  “Kylie!” he heard his voice crack with emotion. Exhaustion and fear welled up in the form of tears in his stinging, hazel eyes. He had to slip his left knee between her and Cole to brace himself when he moved to try again. He shook her shoulder gently and called to her, “Hey Kylie! Come on! Wake up!”

  Nothing.

  He moved his hand to her face and carefully smoothed her hair aside. “Kylie, I’m sorry, but I have to.” He flicked her on her cheekbone. Hard.

  “What are you doing to her?” Creed asked, taken aback at the sharp smack he heard.

  “I can’t find a pulse so either she’s died or it’s too weak to feel in a moving vehicle. I’m doing what I can to check for consciousness by performing a ‘face flick’ in hopes of eliciting a corneal reflex.”

  “English!”

  “I flicked her in the face to try to wake her up!”

  “Why don’t you just do CPR or something on her?”

  “I can’t effectively perform CPR on a person in a seated position and there’s no room to stretch her out.”

  “I could stop the car—”

  “No. We can’t risk stopping. Let me try once more.” Evan growled through his emotions as he tried again, watching closely for a twitch response around her eye.

  Flick

  This time he saw one. “Oh, thank God,” he took a shaky breath. “She’s alive, but only barely.”

  “Is she still losing blood?”

  “No. It was quick and crude, but I managed to cauterize her wounds. She’ll need surgery to remove the bullets and fix tissue and possibly organ damage, but it was the best I could do to buy her time.”

  “Are we going to discuss the fact that she worked for Williams and probably was the cause of everything bad that happened tonight?”

  “No.”

  Creed raised his brows at the sullen and exhausted kid climbing back into the passenger seat, but said nothing.

  Evan leaned back against the headrest and flung his arm over his aching head. Miles slipped like black laces through the metal holes of a military boot.

  Creed was lost in his thoughts when he heard Evan clear his throat. “Just so we’re clear, I’ll take her down myself if I even suspect she’s still working for the enemy.”

  “Copy that,” Creed nodded at the kid who’d earned the soldier’s respect that night.

  20 The Billboard

  The billboard stood stark and naked against the dark night sky. Margo asked for the umpteenth time, how long they’d been waiting.

  “It’s only been twenty-five minutes, Margo. The boys are coming as fast as they can.”

  “That’s what worries me,” she sighed, rubbing her eyes. They ached from straining to see further in the darkness than her mere human eyes would allow, and her useless legs bothered her more now than they had in months. All she wanted to do was stand and fight to protect her family.

  “I don’t see anyone yet,” Farrow whispered into the anxious van. With their naturally exceptional night vision, Farrow and Sloan had the responsibility of searching the horizon for headlights. “At least we weren’t followed,” she offered.

  “It shouldn’t have taken them this long, Theo. We had this timed. We know they should be able to—”

  “Wait!” Sloan and Farrow whispered at the same time. They looked at each other, eyes wide.

  “What?” Margo craned around in her chair so she could see the girls in the back seat.

  “You heard it, too?” Sloan wet her lips worriedly.

  “Yeah,” Farrow nodded slowly.

  “Heard what?” Theo asked.

  “The C4. It just went off.”

  “How could you possibly hear that? We’re so far away.” Margo tried to keep the frantic tone from her voice.

  The girls had identical apologetic expressions before they looked away from the distraught woman.

  “Margo, the C4 was supposed to have gone off twenty minutes ago.” Theo said the words they were all thinking.

  “What are you saying?” Margo snapped, tears welling in her eyes.

  “I’m saying we’ll give them time, of course. Our pilots, Jacobi and Trainer will wait for us,” he said, though his voice faltered. “But you may have to prepare yourself for the worst.” He looked away from her tortured face. “We both need to prepare.” His voice hitched at the thought of losing his only child.

  “Prepare myself for what, exactly?” Margo leveled her gaze though her body began to quiver. “You want me to prepare myself for the thought that the boys may have sacrificed themselves just now? Prepare for the rage and guilt at the idea of our children detonating the C4 to take out as many of the enemy as possible, just so we would have a better chance of escape? Are
you kidding me? Never! Never! I will not prepare myself for that! I will wait here until I grow roots if I have to, but I promised our children I would meet them at this God forsaken billboard in the middle of the desert, and I will not leave until they are with me!”

  The car waited in silence, Margo’s words bouncing like a pinball around those who sat in rigid stillness, reeling in their wake.

  Time slipped by.

  “How long do we wait before we go back?” Farrow was the first to whisper past the still palpable anguish.

  Little Danny, still buckled in his booster seat was looking around wide-eyed, scared but waiting, somehow knowing better than to speak just then.

  “We’ll stay here until Margo’s ready to do something different,” Theo breathed, then reached for his phone to send a text message to the trusted pilots waiting for them in a trans-Atlantic-ready plane, some forty minutes away.

  Delayed. Please wait.

  To Margo, Theo’s words were a tonic on the distraught mother’s soul. She looked over at his exhausted face and knew she loved him more in that moment than she had ever loved him.

  Theo’s phone vibrated in his hand. The pilot, Captain Jacobi’s response read: Sand storm en route. We leave soon or must wait until it passes.

  Theo hesitated to relay the news, but in the end felt obligated to let everybody know the situation.

  Everybody took the news with wide-eyes and dry throats. They knew it would be dangerous for them to have to wait the hours it could take for the storm to pass. Williams would be just as trapped as they were, but he wouldn’t hesitate to send his metahumans out in the storm to keep hunting them down.

  The digits on Farrow’s wristwatch stabbed forward one minute after the next and still there was no sign of the boys. She willed headlights to beam down the road so badly that phantom lights and shadows played cruel tricks on her mind.

  That’s exactly what she thought was happening when she saw the beginning of a white glow slipping over the dip in the road.

  “I see something,” Farrow finally said, once the twin headlights became obvious as real and not wistful aberrations.

  “I see it, too,” Sloan’s voice hitched from thoughts of Cole.

  “Headlights?” Margo breathed.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Do they look like those of the sedan?” Theo asked.

  “They could be, sir. They’re fast approaching.”

  Time seemed to hold its breath waiting for the lights to get closer.

  “Is it them?” Margo couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “Stand by.” Farrow breathed, straining her eyes to look inside the vehicle—willing herself to confirm the visual they were desperate for.

  She thought of Alik—of his blue, blue eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiled down at her. His love and devotion to his family as crisp as the blue in his eyes. Farrow never doubted for one minute, he was just as desperate to find them as they were to have him back. A mental picture of him with humor twinkling in his eyes forced her to bite back a whimper. He would do anything to make her smile, and she loved him for it. She’d lived more in the past year than she had her entire existence before Alik.

  “Well?” Margo asked, anxiously.

  “It’s a sedan,” Farrow offered lamely.

  “Color?” Theo asked.

  “It’s too dark to tell,” Sloan responded, “Give us a few more seconds.”

  Everyone obeyed, praying silent prayers.

  “Negative. It’s red. The sedan is red. It’s not them,” Farrow nearly sobbed when she realized it. The others in the van gasped softly, but held their tongues.

  “I’m sorry,” she breathed, her eyes downcast and stinging with tears not just from the strain and exhaustion. Heartbreak and numbness were starting to envelop Farrow.

  “We’ll just give them more—”

  “Wait!” Sloan exclaimed. “We’ve been so busy following this first vehicle, we didn’t notice the one a mile behind it. It’s silver or gray—a sedan.”

  Hope leaped into Farrow’s chest as she repositioned herself next to an opened window so she could have an even clearer view.

  “Could it be?” Margo whisked away the annoying tears coursing down her cheeks.

  “I think—” Farrow began, but hesitated before diving in. “I think this could be them!”

  “Keep watching,” Sloan encouraged.

  “It looks like one of the larger boys driving: either Alik or Creed.”

  “Who else do you see?”

  “That’s either Cole or Evan in the front passenger seat.”

  “Are there four of them in the car?” Theo asked, worried.

  “Sir, I can only confirm two at this distance,” Farrow responded robotically, though inside she was leaping around the van like a little kid Christmas morning.

  Alik’s alive! He has to be alive! Farrow’s heart pounded loud enough for her to hear ringing in her ears.

  Maze whined plaintively before moving to look out the window into the night sky. His night vision was excellent. Maze scratched at the window with the nails on his huge paws.

  “Hold on Maze,” Margo cooed. “It’s them—it’s got to be.”

  “I think you’re right, Dr. Winter.” Farrow didn’t even try to contain the wide grin spilling across her pixie face. “Five. I count five people in the car, but those in the back seat are slumped over.”

  21 The Heart Knows

  “I hope the others are okay.”

  “They have to be.”

  “Right,” Evan breathed. His sharp hazel eyes searched the horizon for the silhouette of the billboard they’d chosen months ago as their meeting place.

  Evan kept craning his neck around to check those in the back seat.

  “How are they doing?”

  “Cole keeps drifting in and out of it. He’s out now.”

  “What about Alik?”

  “He’s in a world of hurt. His face is all swollen and I don’t like the raspy sound he has started making when he breathes.”

  “And the girl?”

  “I don’t know, man. I think she’s barely hanging on.”

  “The family can fix them up, though, right?” Creed tried to keep his voice upbeat, but he’d seen the damage those chemicals had done to Alik’s face and he’d seen soldiers die from fewer bullet wounds than Kylie suffered.

  “Of course we’ll get them fixed up.” Evan’s voice was an octave too high to be believable.

  The boys exchanged worried glances.

  “We should be nearing the billboard soon,” Creed offered to change the subject—in case anyone in the back seat was listening.

  “Soon,” Evan agreed.

  “Where are we?” a groggy voice asked from the back seat.

  “Hey Cole, good to see you awake,” Creed said glancing at the beaten kid through his rearview mirror. “We’re nearly at the billboard. Just a few more minutes and we should see—”

  “There it is!” Evan interrupted excitedly.

  Creed followed Evan’s line of sight and found the silhouette of the billboard against the starry night sky.

  “He’s right, Cole. It’s there.”

  “Yay,” he offered weakly before letting his head fall back against the headrest with a thud.

  “They’ve got to see us by now,” Evan said mostly to himself.

  “They’re watching,” Creed nodded. “Farrow and Sloan will be able to see us if we can see them.”

  The car full of battle-weary metahumans plus one wildcard picked up speed, closing the distance between them and the family they could now see was anxiously waiting for them.

  When they pulled off the highway and stopped near the family van, it was sheer relief that gave them the strength to pour out of the sedan and embrace the family they had just risked their lives to save.

  “Thank you God, for my children,” Margo kept murmuring as she reached up from her wheelchair with open arms, embracing each boy in turn and kissing them on the che
ek as only a mom can.

  “Where’s Alik?” Margo shifted in her seat to try to see into the sedan.

  RRROOAAARR

  “What the hell?” Evan looked up into the night sky. His light-brown hair was tousled around.

  “I thought we’d have more time before the sandstorm,” Theo yelled over the growing roar of a pounding wind.

  22 Farrow’s Turn to Fight

  “This is no sandstorm!” Farrow screamed over the noise. “It’s a chopper! Get everybody out of here!” The soldier in her recognized the wind pattern tangling her pixie locks.

  They followed us with aerial night vision. Shit!

  Theo scooped Margo straight from her chair and raced with her in his arms back to the van. Evan and Creed bolted to the sedan. Maze was barking ear-piercing warnings to the family as he herded Danny back to the van. Sloan reached down, picked up the little boy and hurriedly tossed him into the van before grabbing several bottles of water from the package at Danny’s feet and rushing back to the sedan.

  Farrow had darted to the van but only to load Margo’s wheelchair and grab her rifle. She slammed the door closed on the wide-eyed expressions on the faces of the people who had become her family. She shouldered her weapon and pointed it to the sky, ready for battle. When the van didn’t move, she slapped the door with her hand. “GO!” She shrieked and waved frantically to Theo to drive away.

  “What about you?”

  “I’ve got this! Get them to the airport.”

  For a half second, the middle-aged doctor locked eyes with the trained assassin before nodding once. With equal amounts of terror and respect for the girl he was leaving behind, Theo punched the van back onto the highway and floored it. The tires spun uselessly on the road rapidly being covered with the blowing sand before the four-wheel drive kicked in, gripping the road in desperation. The sedan with the other half of the family was right on their tail. Creed drove skillfully, controlling the car with a deft touch.

  Knowing the family trusted her to take out the enemy steeled her resolve.

  Leave my family alone! She mentally screamed as she tasted grit between her clenched teeth. She closed her eyes against the blowing sand and used her other senses to tell her where to aim. The roar and gushing wind was starting to move away from her as the chopper adjusted trajectory to follow the cars. Farrow adjusted her blind aim.