Lyncoln and I stand on the east side of our territory, ready to go around the back way to our ally’s area. He hasn’t said much to me, or I to him. He seems in “the zone” and I don’t want to mess with his master plan by complicating it with small talk. What he hasn’t communicated to me that I do understand is that we have to be stealthy. Our allies need to not see us coming. Taking the long way around to the back of their territory will only give us an advantage if they don’t see or hear us coming.
As soon as the bell rings, we’re going to use what little light there is and hide somewhere in our ally’s territory, wherever Lyncoln thinks will be best to lay ambush. My only hope is that Henry is with the team going to take out the other team’s flags so he isn’t around when we turn on his team.
We wait and wait in awkward silence. I try my hardest not to fidget, practicing stealth mode.
Finally, we hear the bell ring. It’s game time and we don’t hesitate to take off. The quicker we are, the less likely they are to notice that we are in their territory. I’m trying to walk as quietly as I can but every time I hear a leaf under my boot or a twig snap, I see Lyncoln tense up. He’s obviously better at this covert stuff than I am. He steps with ease and confidence, his broad shoulders ready to pummel anything that stands in his way. If there was one word to describe him right now, it would be predator. He is definitely in his comfort zone right now.
And here I am just trying my dandiest to not make my mask fog up. Because of my nervousness, or Lyncoln in the vicinity, or the craziness of this exercise, or all of the above, I’m breathing heavy and it feels a hundred degrees in my mask. Outside of the mask, I’m glad my gloves are covering my hands or I would feel quite chilled. Even with the woodsy outdoor smell and the stupid foggy mask, I can still smell that distinctive Lyncoln smell every now and then on the breeze, and it makes it hard to concentrate.
We quickly make our way. About halfway there, I’m following his lead when a branch somehow manages to get lodged in the side of my mask. I stop right away to take it off and try to fix it on my own. Hearing me behind him, Lyncoln spins around and looks at me. He lifts up his mask to the top of his head and glares at me. I sheepishly point to the branch and shrug, which causes him to shake his head and grin. He should grin more often.
Two things happen simultaneously from there. I hear the crunch of leaves off to my right and I feel Lyncoln pick me up and pin me against something cold and rough. Probably a tree. I don’t say a word and neither does he. He just listens and watches and listens and watches, all the while keeping his paintball gun aimed and ready. We are almost on top of one another and he doesn’t even seem to notice. He just keeps his eyes on the prize, so to speak. I find it odd that in the short amount of time I have known Lyncoln, this is the second time he has thrown me up against something. Both times he was trying to protect me, and he tried to do it softly, but still.
Minutes pass and we don’t hear or see anything. It could have just as easily been a mouse or some sort of wild animal out here. Or it could be one of our allies finding us before we find their flag.
I’m inches from him while we wait it out. I’m about to think that Lyncoln’s feelings for me were all a figment of my imagination because I seem to have no effect on him whatsoever, when he turns his eyes to my gaze and his breathing falters just a touch while he gives me that intense “I know you” look. The air seems to sizzle around us.
There it is. Maybe I do have an effect on him after all? He is so confusing; it is absolutely frustrating.
I push off from the tree and try to move away from him and get two steps before I hear him whisper, “Screw it.”
I’m about to turn around and rudely shush him, but before my brain and mouth can communicate, I am gently shoved back up against the tree, dropping my gun and mask in surprise. Before I even have time to prepare, I feel his lips crash into mine as his arms pull me in closer.
I don’t have time to think. It just happens.
My pulse increases, and I feel warm--very warm. He kisses me hard. I feel what little facial hair he has brush against my skin; it feels…tingly. Actually, all of me feels tingly.
My now empty hands find themselves holding on to him for dear life. The kiss goes from absolutely aggressive to begin with, to soft and tender. By the time he pulls away, I am breathless and disappointed it stopped.
Holy crap.
He rests his forehead on mine for a moment and just smiles his killer smile. Then he kisses me on the forehead and retrieves my mask and gun. He takes my mask and gives me one more quick kiss on the corner of my mouth, almost my cheek but not quite, before putting it back in place. Then he gives me my gun, pulls his own mask back down, and continues walking and searching like nothing happened.
What did happen?
What. Just. Happened.
I think of Henry and feel all sorts of guilt. That was my first kiss. And it was from Lyncoln. And it was a heck of a kiss, if I do say so myself.
Ho-ly crap. Holy cow. Holy crapping cow.
All of a sudden getting shot with a paintball is the least of my worries.
After walking only about 50 more yards, Lyncoln points and I see in the distance the glow of our ally’s flag. The sun is long gone, but I can barely make out four people and the glow sticks on their persons as they guard it. From what I can tell, they’ve simply stuck it in the crook of the tree and spread out to surround the tree so that their flag is protected from all sides.
Because of that, unfortunately, the only completely hidden spot for us to hide is behind a wide tree. There isn’t enough room for us to stand side by side, so we kind of have to recreate the position we just kissed in, except sitting this time. I sit with my back to the tree. Lyncoln is crouched in front of me, facing me with his gun ready and watching. Even low to the ground he still tries to protect me as he positions himself so that I’m sitting with his legs on either side of mine. I’m just glad our masks are back on at this point, providing more of a barrier. I don’t know what happened back there at that other tree, but I don’t think I’d be opposed to experiencing it again.
I rest my head against the tree and try my hardest not to move, which isn’t easy for me. Lyncoln’s body is very close to mine, but not touching. He has one arm on one of his legs propping himself up and holding his gun steady. I have my gun resting across my arm pointed away from him. My fingers are starting to feel cold through the thin gloves as the clock ticks on. The longer we wait, the longer the sun has been gone and the temperature drops. I’m sure if I wasn’t wearing this stupid mask I could see my breath. I feel chilled already so I hope we don’t have to wait long.
I think of Henry and what he is doing. I bet he didn’t randomly kiss someone against a tree. I look at Lyncoln. How can he act like nothing happened? Just back to the game, focused, and on task. He is the most infuriating creature I have ever met. I thought he was moving on to Attie now anyway?
Why on earth did he kiss me? And he didn’t even ask or let me know it was coming. He just went for it.
As I rub my fingers together, Lyncoln grabs them and scoots even closer. He keeps holding them and I don’t mind. He is warm and I’m starting to feel so cold I’m afraid my teeth will start to chatter and give us away. I take a deep breath and smell the Lyncoln and outdoor mixture. If I could somehow create a candle that smelled like those two things combined, I think my life would be more complete. I smile but then scold myself. We are playing a game. I might get shot by a paintball. It’s time to focus!
We stay like that for about five excruciatingly long minutes and then hear the pop, pop-pop, pop that Trent and Christopher know to use to signal to us that the first flag has been taken. Then we wait some more. It’s almost our turn in this crazy game. I tense up. I’m worried about what it feels like to get shot, but not terribly so because Lyncoln is right here. I have a feeling he could take out all four of the people guarding the flag before I even have time to aim properly or turn the safety off.
He turns to me and very closely whispers, “Two minutes and then we go.”
My pulse accelerates. Holy crap. It’s go time. And holy crap. He’s impressive. And intense. And is wayyy too good at this. And my mask is fogging up again. Freak!
After the two minutes are up, he tells me to stay put and makes his way to the person closest to us. I’m not sure who it is, but he moves freakishly fast and shoots them at about five feet away, three shots to the back of the calves. Then he uses that person as a shield as he makes his way to hide behind another smaller tree closer to the others.
I see Vanessa turn to try to find the intruder, but he shoots her three times across the stomach before she can find where it’s coming from. When she does figure it out, she’s pissed.
“Dang it, Lyncoln. You jerk!” She says a swear word and storms off, hands in the air in signal that she’s done.
In mere seconds, the other two are down also. I have yet to fire my gun or move from the tree. I just stand there stunned and irrevocably impressed. Seeing his small window of opportunity, Lyncoln sprints the ten yards for the glowing flag. He has it and has just turned around when I hear twigs snapping and footsteps pounding. Someone is coming and coming fast. Not knowing who it is, he tries to outrun them. They are gaining fast but he is fast too. As the intruder comes through an opening and although it is dark, I recognize the body shape of our enemy. I would recognize that body anywhere.
“I knew something was wrong when you weren’t on the offensive helping us get flags,” Henry pants after him, slowing down only so he can shoot along the way. He hits Lyncoln once in the back. Then misses. He keeps firing and this seems hopeless. Henry is about to ruin our chances at this.
I then remember the gun in my hand. I’m not useless. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.
I turn off my gun’s safety and jump out from behind the trees and start shooting at Henry. I thought that it would be impossible to aim in the dark, but the glow stick from my wrists provides just enough light that I can see the viewfinder and aim. I pull the trigger and shoot.
Then I hesitate for a second. I’m shooting Henry!? He hesitates too and slows down only for a second in confusion as he searches for where the shots are coming from. I start shooting again and keep shooting. I manage to shoot him once square in the chest. Ha! Guess my aim is getting better since my last run in with a turkey.
“Reagan!?” he asks confused as he gets back to full speed, this time is coming for the both of us, shooting all the way.
I keep shooting as Lyncoln is almost back to the tree where I am standing. He is coming in hot, zig-zagging a bit as he runs to make Henry’s job harder. I just keep shooting, knowing there is nothing else I can do. Henry hits Lyncoln again. I hit Henry again. This time in the knee. Just one more and we are home free.
As Lyncoln gets near, the bullets are exploding everywhere. One ricochet hits me in the shin and really stings since it doesn’t explode. Another one hits my shoulder and splatters at the bottom of my mask. As Lyncoln gets closer, I try to focus on the target I can barely see, so I aim for the glowing paint splatter on Henry’s chest. I do the double tap we were taught, and hear Henry stop and yell out in frustration. Lyncoln chuckles as he grabs my free hand and leads the way back to our team’s base.
“Nice shooting, babe,” he whispers under his mask proudly. Instead of saying the term of endearment sarcastically, he says it like he means it this time.
He slows down to my speed and we make our way back to our base, which I assumed would be difficult in the dark. Surprisingly though, as we keep moving, the light from the clear moon illuminates enough to allow us to move quickly without tripping or running face first into a tree. With no more worrying about the crinkle of leaves under our boots, I am quite impressed with the speed in which I am able to go without falling on my face.
We hear people on our tail as we go down and back up a ditch. I almost fall, but Lyncoln catches me by the upper part of my hamstring and gives me a shove back up. Even with one arm, he can throw my entire body.
We don’t have very far left, but I hear the pursuers closing in on us. And more shots are being fired coming from in front of us. The other group must be returning with the flag we stole, probably fighting off the rest of our allies. We can barely make out the spot where our flag hides off in the distance as we speed ahead and get closer to the gunfire. With the flag we have in tow, we are almost home free. We can’t get shot now. We are so close to winning! So close.
“Go, Regs. Run like hell,” Lyncoln says, stopping me to take my gun and giving me the flag.
I feel shocked he just handed me the flag over and left this in my hands. But before I can say anything or react, Trent and Oliver see us and run out to cover me. I run as fast as I possibly can for our flag knowing I can only get shot two more times. As I reach out to put the flag with the two others, someone shoots me in the arm. But it’s too late. I drop the flag next to the other two. We now officially have three flags in our possession.
We won!
I’m shot one more time in the calf, but it doesn’t matter because it’s over. I’m sure that person knew it too. Cheap shot, but whatever. We won. That’s all that matters.
The large lights on the outskirts of the field are turned on and off repeatedly in a signal for the end of the game and our team cheers. Trent lifts me up in a bear hug while the group from Henry’s team chasing us grunts and curses in frustration. There are high fives and hugs all around for my team.
Henry soon comes up to congratulate me, giving me a hug. “Good job, beautiful.”
“You shot me,” I accuse.
“Well it’s just not in my nature to go down without a fight.” He shrugs.
“Nor mine,” I laugh.
“Girl, you were flying. I can’t run that fast.” Isabella smiles, interrupting our moment.
“Thanks. I just didn’t want to get hit,” I laugh again. “Those little buggers can sting.”
Christopher reaches out to shake my hand, “Good job getting flag three, Reagan.”
“Good job making sure you had flag two,” I nod at him smiling. He’s smiling ear to ear and seems beyond happy we won. He, Trent, and Oliver are acting like school girls they are so happy, jumping on one another and yelling like fools. Men.
Calmed down a bit, our team then swaps stories about how each part of our group did. Oliver informs me that a group of only three people made it to our flag and only one managed to turn around and see it before Elizabeth shot them. His saying her name reminds me that she was on my team. Where is she? We have been done for almost five minutes now and I still haven’t seen her.
“Hold on,” I say holding a finger up to pause Oliver and look around.
“What is it?” he asks concerned.
I don’t answer.
Fifteen or so of us are standing around where our flag was hiding and we are slowly starting to leave to go back to the main open field. I look around at my teammates. All of us are here except I can’t find Elizabeth or that sleaze ball Grady. Grabby Grady. I know in my gut something is wrong here.
Where are they?
“Reagan?” Oliver asks concerned as I start walking away.
“Elizabeth. Where is she?” I ask as I hurry over to where Oliver and the others were posted. I hope more than anything I’m wrong about this, but if Grady is missing too, this is not good.
I’m searching and looking around trees as I walk our team’s area, but it is so hard to see. I am about to turn around and quit looking when all of a sudden I see an ankle band frantically waving around. Elizabeth is about twenty yards away and from what I can tell is pinned against a tree. The closer I get, the more utterly terrified she looks. I am running before I can even think of yelling for help.
Grady has his back to me and is pinning her there against her will trying to kiss her. She is trying to fight and get free, but he has both arms pinning her to the tree so she can’t move. He isn’t kissing her yet, but I think it’s pretty
clear he is going to and that she doesn’t want him to. I’m definitely not interrupting a lover’s moment.
I move towards them as fast as I can. She sees me come up behind him and I see relief flood her beautiful eyes.
“Hey. Get off her!” I yell loudly and pull him by his shoulder. I hope I yelled loud enough to get the attention of some of the others too.
He spins, throwing me off, and glares at me. He keeps a grip on one of Elizabeth’s wrists so she can’t get away.
“Stay out of it, Reagan.” He spits the words at me and turns back to Elizabeth.
“Get off her,” I repeat while throwing myself at him and climbing onto his back. The force of my jumping on his back loosens his grip on Elizabeth and she is able to pull free.
“Run!” I yell to her, still on Grady’s back while he tries to dump me off.
She hesitates a moment, not wanting to leave me with Grady.
“Go, Elizabeth!” I yell again. She takes off fast, I hope for help.
Grady swings around and I lose the grip my legs have on his back. I try to keep my hands gripped around his neck though my feet are back on the ground. I have no idea what I’m going to do, but I’m hoping to just stall. I sink my fingernails into his neck and hold on for dear life. Hopefully all that wrestling with Ashton when we were kids is about to pay off; I know how to fight dirty, and I know how to fight like a girl…so in other words, claws and shots to sensitive areas.
“Fine. It can be you instead, I guess,” he says as he abruptly pulls away and spins around, elbowing me in the face as he does so.
I feel pain from where his elbow hit me, but I move to run.
He lunges for me, easily catching me, and we both fall as he tackles me forcefully to the ground. I feel the back of my head hit the ground really hard as he moves to pin down my arms. I lift up my knee trying to go for his groin but feel dizzy. I’m about to lose consciousness but before I do, I see Lyncoln come flying in out of nowhere. He grabs Grady by the shoulders and chucks him at least five yards and then pins him to the ground. He punches him hard.
The Culling: Book 1 (The Culling Series) Page 25