by Katie Ruggle
Otto removed the lock and unwound the chain. Once they’d slipped through the gate, he rearranged it to look as if the gate was secured again.
Otto, leading Bean, put a hand on Sarah’s back, urging her forward. Xena followed, but Mort lagged behind, limping badly. After handing Bean’s lead rope to Sarah, Otto returned to Mort, lifting the large dog like he weighed nothing. Sarah and Grace waited until Otto had caught up, and then they continued their trek through the snow. The security lights were muted by the still-falling snow, and Sarah peered through the dimness, looking for the building housing the workshop.
When they reached an outhouse, Otto carried Mort inside.
Confused, Sarah and Grace stared at each other, and then inside the tiny shed. In the dim light, Sarah watched as Otto swung the seat to the side and opened the trap door beneath it, all while holding Mort with one strong arm. He looked at Sarah. “This ladder leads into the bunker. It’ll be safer in there.”
“I want to help put Bean and Hortense away.” She couldn’t admit that, now that she was with Otto again, she didn’t want to be separated, even for a short time. “We’ve been through a lot together.”
He hesitated, but finally nodded and gestured toward Grace.
“Wait,” Sarah said, unbuckling the waist strap of the backpack and slipping it off her shoulders. She fished out a folding knife and flashlight before holding the pack out toward Grace, careful not to jostle the cat. “Can you take Bob down?”
“Bob?”
“Otto’s cat.”
“Oh.” Grace gave a small choke of a laugh as she pulled off her crossbow before easing her arms through the straps. “I thought you’d named your favorite pack or something.” She swung the crossbow over her shoulder and visibly braced herself. Looking like she was scared out of her mind and trying to hide it, Grace started to descend the ladder, quickly disappearing into the darkness below.
“You brought Bob, too?” Otto asked quietly.
“Yes. I didn’t think he’d follow like the others, so I put the poor guy in the pack pocket. He’s pretty unhappy about it.”
Otto was quiet as he studied her for a long moment. “Thank you.” His voice sounded rusty. “I’ll be right back.” He used one hand on the ladder and the other to steady Mort over his shoulder as he followed Grace through the opening. In just a few seconds, Sarah was all by herself, hanging on to Bean’s lead rope with a white-knuckled grip.
“Dummy,” she whispered to herself, not able to take her eyes off the spot where Otto had disappeared. “You were on your own for much longer, and you did just fine. Don’t lose it now.”
The wind hummed around them, and Xena pressed against the backs of her legs. Sarah didn’t want to admit to herself that she was just as comforted by the contact as the dog was.
Otto’s head popped through the hole, and Sarah jumped.
“Come here, Xena,” he said quietly, but she hunched lower and looked away from him, as if she could disappear that way.
“I think she’s coming with us,” Sarah said, her voice shaking slightly.
Even in the low light, she could see Otto’s gaze sharpen as he looked at her. “That’s fine. We’ll bring her down with us once we get the other two settled. Are you cold?”
“I’ll live. Don’t you want to bring Hortense down there?”
“No.” He boosted himself out of the hole, closed the trapdoor, and swung the seat over it, hiding the entrance. “Bean needs the company.”
“Right.” She handed him the lead rope after Otto closed the outhouse—fake outhouse—door. “I forgot that they’re usually roomies.”
They walked in silence for a few moments before Otto asked, “What happened?”
“They blew up your house,” she said, her stomach twisting as she remembered the black skeleton enveloped by orange and red flames. “I’m sorry.”
Otto didn’t respond for several moments, and Sarah felt tears sting her eyes. It had been such a beautiful house. Finally, he spoke, his voice rough. “You saved them all.”
“I couldn’t get to the chickens.” Sarah bit her lip. “I probably should’ve gone outside and at least let them out, but I was scared Aaron’s men hadn’t left or were waiting right outside the barn to grab me.”
“No, they’re safest in their coop,” Otto assured her. “There’s plenty of food and the waterer’s heated, so they’ll be fine for a few days while we get all this”—he waved a hand, encompassing the entire horrible situation in one gesture—“under control.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t come here—”
Otto put a hand on the back of her neck, and she went silent. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “And I’m very glad you came here.”
“You are?” She just couldn’t believe that, even with the reassuring weight of his hand on her. “Everything’s on fire, and your house is gone.”
“Sarah.” He stopped by the big workshop door and turned toward her. “Buildings and mountain passes can be rebuilt. As long as you’re safe, I’m grateful.”
She blinked, overwhelmed. “Oh.”
Otto gave her that slow smile again and opened the door. It rattled as it went up, making Sarah jump. Otto turned on a small flashlight and led Bean into the shop. After hesitating in the entrance for a brief moment, Bean plodded after him. Poor guy, Sarah thought as she walked in behind them, Xena right next to her. Bean must be even more exhausted than she was. Hortense followed them in. Grabbing the hanging rope, Sarah lowered the door.
It was too loud, seeming to ring through the night, and it made her cringe. She breathed out in relief once it was down. The shop was rough, with a dirt floor and unfinished walls. Just a workbench on one wall changed it from a “shed” to a “workshop,” but it would work for Bean and Hortense. As Theo had predicted, there was a small stack of alfalfa hay bales stacked against one wall. Hortense immediately walked over and helped herself to a bite.
Grabbing an empty bucket, Sarah brought it to the spigot next to the workbench and filled it with water. Xena followed, getting a drink as it flowed in. Otto unclipped the lead rope from Bean’s halter and opened one of the hay bales, cutting the twine holding it together before pocketing his knife.
Sarah moved the full bucket over by the hay and then stepped away as both Bean and Hortense crowded in to drink. Xena waited until the other two had finished before taking her second turn at the bucket. Leaning her shoulder against the wall, Sarah watched them, feeling both exhausted and triumphant. She’d gotten all the animals to Otto safely. Now they just needed to save the town from her brother.
“I wish they could join us in the bunker where it’s warmer,” she said as Otto walked over to her.
“They’d hate it down there.” He gave her a small, tired smile. “Horses and goats like it colder than we do. As long as they have protection from the elements and hay in front of them, they’ll be happy.”
With that worry soothed, Sarah’s thoughts jumped back to their messed-up situation. “What’s the plan?”
Otto pulled off his gloves and rubbed a hand over his face. “Still need to come up with one.”
Sarah couldn’t resist. She took his bare hand in hers. “We’ll figure it out. You’re safe. The rest is easy.”
His smile was tired but still gorgeous. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.” He hesitated, watching her intently. “I really do love you.”
The words sent a warm thrill through her. It was one thing for him to say it in the heat of the moment, right after he’d realized that she was alive and unhurt. For him to tell her now, in the relative safety of the workshop, meant that he hadn’t said it merely because emotions were running high. The way he looked at her, his gaze steady and unwavering, erased all doubts. He meant what he said.
Squeezing his hand, she looked
back at him, trying to project that same confidence. So much of her life had been about hiding what she felt, about presenting a calm front, pretending that the ever-present danger and fear didn’t bother her. Now, she wanted to do the opposite. She wanted Otto to see how she felt, to believe her as she believed him.
“I love you, too.”
Otto smiled, and she knew that it had worked. He’d seen that she meant the words with everything inside her.
Leaning down, he kissed her lightly. She caught the back of his head and held him there, needing more than just a peck. She hadn’t been sure if she would ever see him again, hadn’t known if he was even alive. A simple, gentle kiss was not nearly enough.
Otto seemed to agree. He intensified the kiss, pressing more firmly against her as his lips parted. She met his tongue with hers, and he groaned deep in his chest. Otto kissed her harder, deeper, almost wildly, as if he needed to dive into her or he would die. Sarah knew she felt that way. Kissing him wasn’t just something she wanted. She needed it, needed him, with a bone-deep instinct that made her clutch his hand and the back of his head, desperate for him not to pull away.
His arm wrapped around her, tugging her close, their joined hands locked between their bodies. Their kisses grew frantic. Even though she now knew Otto was alive, all of her earlier fears, all the shocks and horrors she’d encountered welled up inside her, pressing to get out. He was the only one who could make her feel like everything would turn out okay, despite the terrible things that had happened.
She couldn’t get close enough to him, but she didn’t want to let go of his hand in order to clutch him more tightly to her. From the way he was holding her, she knew he felt the same way. The workshop, the animals, the snowstorm, the whole nightmare of a night faded, and there was only Otto—his huge, hard body and his amazingly gentle hands. Too soon, he pulled away, breathing hard.
“We should get into the bunker,” he said, his voice rough and reluctant.
Although she hated to stop kissing him, Sarah knew he was right. With a sigh, she pulled his head down. His mouth was tempting, but she knew it’d be even harder to stop a second time. Instead, she gave him a peck on the nose that made him smile. Seeing that was almost as belly-melting as his kisses.
Giving her a final hug, Otto released her. Sarah felt a surge of anger for Aaron. He never could let her be. He was determined to ruin every ounce of happiness she managed to find. This time, though, he wouldn’t win. She was hanging on to Otto with everything she had.
Xena pressed against Sarah’s side, as if making sure she wouldn’t be left behind. Reaching down, she stroked the dog’s head reassuringly.
Otto moved to the human-sized door, rather than raise the overhead one again. Silently opening the door, he looked around and then motioned for Sarah to come out. She braced herself for the wind, but the night was still. Although a little snow still fell, it was in soft, large flakes, rather than the hard ice pellets that had stung her face the entire ride to town. Sarah looked around at the way the security lights softly lit the property, showing the snowy blanket that covered everything. It was beautiful, like a Christmas card.
Their footsteps were silent in the soft layer of snow, so the only sound was the occasional swish of rubbing fabric as they walked. Shouldn’t there be other sounds? Sarah found herself walking faster. The snow-covered surroundings and too-silent night seemed suddenly eerie, rather than peaceful.
They were crossing an open section, and she picked up the pace so that she was right behind Otto. It felt too exposed, like anyone could see them. The shadows around them suddenly had a thousand eyes, all focused on Sarah. There was a strange buzz in the distance, so faint that Sarah wondered if she was imagining it. After all, her imagination seemed to be operating at full force at the moment.
One of the shadows detached from a clump of trees and headed toward them. Sarah sucked in a breath, ready to warn Otto, but he’d already drawn his gun. He knew. The figure got closer, not seeming at all intimidated by the weapon pointed at him. Sarah’s muscles tensed and her heart started pounding.
“Sarah, get back to the workshop,” Otto barked, the quietness of his words not diminishing the command.
Sarah moved to obey, but she only took a step back before the approaching man’s voice reached her. Her body went wobbly with relief.
“Otto.” It was Lieutenant Blessard.
“Why are you out of the bunker? Has it been breached?”
A shock of fear hit Sarah at the thought, but the lieutenant shook his head. “When you didn’t return to the bunker, I thought you might need help. Blanchett’s people are headed this way.”
The relief of a moment ago was gone again. How had Aaron found them? He had to be tracking them, but how?
“We need all our trained guys back here. Sarah, come with me back to the bunker. Otto, take the dog and find Theo and Hugh. The people in town can wait. They’ll be safe. Blanchett knows the women are here.” He looked grim. “This is where he’s going to focus all his firepower.”
The continuous buzzing sound was getting louder, and it finally struck Sarah what the sound was—snowmobiles. Her heart beat quickly in her chest, and she tried to slow her breathing. Hyperventilating wouldn’t help anyone.
“Otto.” Blessard closed his fingers around Sarah’s arm and tugged. “Go!” Xena gave a low growl, and Sarah looked at Otto. Blessard was his lieutenant, not hers. She trusted Otto, and she’d only take commands from him.
“They’re too close.” Otto grabbed her hand, pulling her arm out of Blessard’s grip, and sprinted through the snow toward the workshop. Sarah, with Xena right behind her, ran with him, but the snow was deep enough to make each step a huge effort. It was a familiar nightmare—trying to sprint away from danger but only managing a slog.
“Do you think they’ll find the bunker?” Sarah asked, her voice as soft as she could make it. Her words still sounded too loud.
“It’s hidden well,” Otto said, although Sarah noticed that wasn’t exactly a no.
“What if I lead them away?” Her voice shook, but she still forced out the words. Aaron was her monster. She’d brought him to this wonderful little town that had been nothing but kind to her. It was her responsibility to deal with the army he’d brought to Monroe.
“No.” It was a growl more than a word.
The workshop was getting closer, but they were taking too long. Biting back a sound of fear, Sarah continued fighting through the snow. Even if they couldn’t reach the building, they could hide in the trees scattered around. Anything would be better than this full exposure, their dark forms standing out starkly against the white ground, with no camouflage in sight.
There was a low grunt behind them, and Sarah turned her head just in time to see Blessard trip and fall, his body hitting the snow full-length from his face to his toes.
“Keep heading to those trees,” Otto commanded as he released her, rushing back to help the lieutenant to his feet. As he stood, Blessard gave a pained yelp, his body sagging sideways.
“I did something to my ankle.” His words ended in a groan as his right side collapsed again, almost dragging Otto to the ground. Sarah moved to Blessard’s right and pulled his arm around her shoulders.
“Sarah.” Otto’s glance was filled with worry—but also admiration. “Run. I’ll help him.”
“We’ll both help him.” It was harder than she expected. Every step was difficult. Every move from Blessard threatened to bring him down—and her with him. She wondered if he had a concussion as well, because his balance seemed to be affected. If the earlier run had seemed nightmarish, this was even worse. Their progress changed from feet to inches, and the buzzing was getting ever louder. The snowmobiles would be on them at any second, and they were still a good distance from the cover of the trees. Otto turned so he was facing them.
“Let go,” Otto said, and Sarah obeyed automat
ically, releasing Blessard’s arm. Before the lieutenant could crumple to the ground, Otto hoisted him up over his shoulder. “Run.”
She ran. Without Blessard’s weight pulling her off-balance, she felt like she was flying, even despite the deep drifts. Several single headlights appeared over the ridge, reflecting off the snow until an entire army appeared about to run them down. With a final blast of effort, Sarah dove for cover behind a short, bushy pine tree growing crookedly next to the barn. Xena quickly huddled next to her, and Otto carefully moved Blessard off his shoulder, settling him on the snowy ground.
They crouched behind the tree, peering through the prickly branches at the cluster of five snowmobiles in the yard. Sarah counted eight people dressed in winter camouflage before the engines were turned off and the lights extinguished.
It took a few moments for Sarah’s night vision to kick in after the glare of those headlights. As she blinked frantically in the full darkness, she closed her fist on Otto’s coat. Shapes slowly came back into focus, and the night wasn’t completely black anymore.
“What? Wa’s going on?” The lieutenant’s voice was slurred and much, much too loud. Otto quickly clapped a hand over Blessard’s mouth and met Sarah’s worried gaze. The lieutenant definitely had a head injury. Sarah fought down panic. Everything was going wrong.
Otto looked away, peering through the tree branches, and Sarah followed his gaze. A pair of mercenaries, rifles slung across their backs, headed their way. Sarah stiffened, pulling out her knife and unfolding it, keeping it carefully pointed away from Otto and Blessard. She was terrified of doing something stupid like losing her balance and accidentally stabbing one of them.
To her surprise, Otto put his gun away. Sarah was tempted to poke him and ask him what the freak he thought he was doing, but she didn’t want to distract him. The pair of mercenaries plowed through the snow, heading right toward their pine tree. Sarah was terrified that they had been spotted, but she tried to reassure her panicky brain that Aaron’s goons would’ve already been shooting if that had been the case.