As if his height and weight mean nothing, Malachi clambers up the twelve-foot fence like an acrobat, before flipping over the top and scaling down the other side. When he hits the ground, I quickly but carefully swing my first leg over the top. Mwuaji soldiers are closing in on me, and my lead shrinks with eachpassing second. Gritting my teeth, I lift my other leg and climb down…
Or I try.
And try.
Fuck.
Fuckfuckfuck.
My hoodie is caught on the wire, so tangled that I can’t even slip out of it.
I look down, my lips parted to call out to Malachi for help.
But there’s only empty shadows at the bottom of the fence.
He left me.
CHAPTER TWELVEMalachi
I stare at Eshe from the dense shadows surrounding the perimeter of the obodo’s fence. She should give up. The Mwuaji soldiers are damn near on top of her, her hands must be cut up from grabbing onto the razor wire, and from my vantage point, her top is good and tangled. The only way it’s coming off is with a good layer of skin and tissue.
And yet she continues to struggle and fight.
That’s the shit that got her in the situation she’s in now.
The shit that damn near got both of us killed.
Didn’t nobody tell your big pussy-whipped ass to go after her.
Facts.
Can’t argue with myself when I’m right. I should’ve kept my ass in my bed and let her go on this suicide mission by herself. Ill planned. Running off emotion. Those two elements right there are guaranteed failure. And after warning her of that, even then I should’ve said fuck it. I’m in the business of killing, not getting killed. And still, I followed.
She’s dangerous. For me. For herself.
If I’m fucking smart, I’ll see this shit as a sign—a goddamn omen like them fucking wise men and their star—to get the fuck on. Abena now knows I’m alive when, before tonight, I had some kind of anonymity since Eshe spread the rumor that she killed me. That’s done.
I don’t owe Eshe shit, and she’s brought me nothing but trouble.
I turn, wade deeper into the shadows.
Shit.
Racing back across the couple of hundred yards, I pull my Glocks and jam fresh ammunition in them. Double fisting them, I fire on the Mwuaji soldiers climbing too close to Eshe, picking them off like fish in a barrel. Their cries pierce the night, and they fall to the ground, colliding with others or hanging from the fence, limbs twisted and snagged in the razor.
Sliding one of the guns into the holster at my back, I continue shooting even as I haul ass and vault onto the fence directly beneath Eshe. Making quick work of scaling it, I hurriedly holster my second gun and pull out my knife, then slice away the back of the hoodie. She falls out of the shirt, and I catch her in my one arm, stabilizing her body until she hooks her fingers and feet into the wire.
I glance down, andfuck—more soldiers charge toward us. So many. And I don’t have either of my weapons in my hands. I’m fu—
The crack of gunfire ricochets in the night air seconds before a bullet plows into a soldier reaching for Eshe. An instant later, another bullet sends another one wheeling back and off the fence. Then another. And another.
Someone is picking off the Mwuaji soldiers one by one. I don’t question it. Not right now. There’ll be time for that later. At this moment, we just need to get the fuck outta here.
“Here.” I hold my Glock out to her, and when her gaze meets mine, a ripple ofsomethingcourses through me. It’s something I don’t have the time or inclination to dissect. “Take it.”
She curls her fingers around the grip and takes aim, firing as she clambers down. Our boots hit the ground at the same time, and we waste no time in booking it in the direction of the river road. Even when the bullets cease slamming into the grass at our heels, we still run. And don’t stop until the lights of the compound are far in the distance.
Before we fully disappear into the night, I look over my shoulder and up toward the compound roof, the direction fromwhere the bullets came. A shadow, darker than the rest, shifts from the others. The form is tall, thick. Feminine.
