A scuffling sound comes from the adjoining room.
An insurgent? One of ours?
I turn back to my gun. With my foot like this, it’ll take me aminute to get to it.
I look back to the doorway and see the end of a rifle slidethrough it. A man steps in, his face covered in a red scarf.
It’s on. Life or death. Kill or be killed.
I don’t have a choice if I’m going to make it out of this alive.
I slide my combat knife out of my belt and lunge at him. Heturns, bringing his gun around, but I’m on him before he has a chance. I slashwildly before me. I’m an animal trying to survive—nothing more. Just prey inthe wilderness, tearing a predator apart.
But even in this moment, as my blade pierces through his clothesand flesh, I have a hard time figuring out who the real predator is.
If I don’t kill him, I’m dead. Caleb’s dead. Drake’s dead. We’reall fucking dead.
I keep fucking stabbing, trying to keep my eyes open because ifI so much as blink, it’s over.
But I can’t help it. Some of the dust in the air stings my eyesand forces me to close them.
I open my eyes back up quickly.
Total darkness.
I’ve lost my eyesight. Must’ve been the dust. Whatever happened,I just need to finish this guy and take him out before he kills me and my guys.Just to give our squad time to rescue us.
“Reese! Reese!”
It’s a familiar voice. A voice that jars me from the nightmare.But my fist is already going, and as it makes contact with a cheek, I knowwhat I’ve done.
Ifreeze in place as a loud thud fills the room.
Myarms shake as I try to calm the powerful rush of energy that soars throughme—energy that I realize belongs to another time. Not to right now.
Thelight flashes on. Jay stands beside the door, one hand on the light switch, theother on his face. He turns to me, his expression filled with confusion andhurt.
Whathave I done? He told me about his abusive asshole father. About how he grew uptaking punches. And now I’ve just done that to him.
I’ma monster.
“I—I—”
“No,it’s fine,” he says. He picks up his clothes, but keeps his eyes on me like heneeds to stay on his guard. “I just need to go.” He puts his jeans on and headsout the bedroom door. I hop on my left foot. I’m desperate.
Ifollow after him, still hopping as I head into the living room. “Jay,” I say.
Hedoesn’t respond.
Thisis really bad. This is why he shouldn’t have come here tonight.
“Jay,please,” I say, setting my hand on his shoulder.
Hewhirls around, his face tense, his eyes wide with rage. “Just don’t, okay? Don’tfucking touch me.”
Isee the pink spot on his cheek where I hit him. I want to help him, but I knowin his mind he must be equating me with his dad. And that fucking tears meapart.
Heturns back to the door.
