“Chris…” I gasp, painfully turning toward him. He’s slumped against the shattered window, blood trickling down his temple, his body frighteningly still.
“Chris!” My voice breaks. I stretch across the Humvee. Grabbing hold of his arm, I shake him hard. “Chris, wake up! Please!”
Nothing. Not a sound or movement. My heart splinters. “No, no, no…”
The taste of blood fills my mouth, and my head is pounding so hard I can barely think. I fumble for the seatbelt, finally releasing it. I fall awkwardly against the roof of the Humvee, and fragments of glass bite into my skin as my vision swims.
“Chris…” I whisper, brushing his cheek with shaking fingers. Still, he doesn’t move.
Outside, something thuds. Heavy boots shuffle against dirt, quickly making their way toward me. I twist, blinking through the blur, trying to focus on the figures. The footsteps grow louder. Dangerously closer.
Through the broken pane of my window, I see boots stopping just inches away. My pulse thrums in my ears. My head feels heavy. Too heavy.
A boot kicks the shattered window, and it explodes over me. The last thing I see before the darkness swallows me is a gloved hand reaching for me.
Pain. That’s the first thing I register. The kind that blurs the edges of reality, pounding through my skull like a bass drum and aching throughout my body. My eyelids feel heavy, and for a long, disoriented moment, I can’t tell which way is up. Everything smells like metal and smoke. The sharp, acrid tang of gasoline burns my throat when I try to breathe.
I groan and force my eyes open. The world around me swims into focus, sideways and wrong. The Humvee is upside down, the roof crushed in, glass scattered across the dirt, and blood smeared on the inside of the windshield.
My blood.
Or hers.
“Reese…” Her name tears out of my chest. The sound of it echoes back at me, hollow and empty.
A bolt of terror slams into my gut. I twist, ignoring the slice of pain that shoots through my ribs. She’s not here. Theseat beside me is empty. The seatbelt dangles loosely, and the door hangs open like it’s been ripped off its hinges.
“Reese!” I shout again, louder this time, the sound of my own voice causing my head to throb. But there’s no answer. Only the howl of the wind.
Panic grips me, fast and suffocating. My seatbelt digs into my shoulder, locking me in place. I press the release and yank at it, but it doesn’t budge. “Come on, damn it,” I grouse, fighting through my fuzzy thoughts and flooded vision.I can’t stop.
The buckle won’t shift. I reach for the knife strapped to my thigh. My blood-slick fingers fumble over the sheath, but I finally manage to free it. The blade glints faintly in the dim light as I work it between the belt and my body.
One sharp slice, and the strap gives. I drop hard against the roof—no, the floor—and a jolt of white-hot sharpness lances across my side. I grit my teeth and push through the agony, crawling through the shattered window of the door.
“Reese!” I scream, looking desperately around the wreckage for her. There is no sign of her. Not far from the mangled Humvee, deep tire marks burrow into the dirt where another vehicle must have stopped. My gut twists when I see the boot prints beside them, two sets of large boots and one set of tiny feet.
They took her.
My knees give out, and I crumple to the ground. I try to suck in a breath, but my chest feels like it’s caving in.Reese…I stagger to regain my footing, swaying. My head isspinning, and my vision is narrowing at the edges, but I can’t stop now. I have to move. I have to find her.
I look back at the wreckage. The Humvee, twisted and mangled, is lying like a carcass in the road. There is blood on the glass scattered across the ground. Her blood.
My hands curl into fists. I failed her.Again.
I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my fingers into the bridge of my nose, trying to steady myself. My skull is pounding so much it feels like it might split in half, but none of that matters. Not when she’s out there. Not when they have her.
I start the long walk back to the base. Every step feels wrong. My boots drag through the dirt, my balance off. I clutch my side, struggling to draw in breaths as I move. The horizon sways, distant and hazy, but the glow of the lights ahead keeps me moving.
One foot. Then the other.
The mile between here and the compound feels endless. I stagger and fall, catching myself on scraped palms. The pain of the impact is grueling, and I crumple into the dirt, my breath coming in short, ragged bursts. My ribs burn, and my shoulder throbs, but I push myself from the dirt and press on.
When I finally see the chain-link fence and the guards posted at the gate, relief floods me so fast it almost buckles my knees.
“Sir?” one of them calls, eyes wide as I flash my identification to grant me access. “Jesus Christ, man. What the hell happened to you?”
I can’t answer. My mouth opens, but no words come.
