“Stop them! Stop the shooter!”
But Kodiak is already angling toward the service stair, the narrow iron flight meant for crew. He barrels down, dragging me with him, boots pounding, shouts echoing above.
A shot rings out, then another.
Wood splinters near my shoulder. My scream catches in my throat.
“Keep low!” Kodiak snarls, shoving me ahead.
We burst into the lower deck, the stink of coal thick in the air. Dockside ropes are already being thrown ashore. Dockhands shout; whistles blow; chaos reigns above us.
Freedom gleams just ahead.
“Almost there, just?—”
A bullet rips past, biting into my side. I stumble, blood warm at my hip.
Kodiak catches me before I fall, hauling me tight against him as he runs headlong for the gangway. My knees buckle. The satchel slips in my grasp. I clutch harder, knuckles white, but my strength is leaving me. The bag drags me down with its weight, like an anchor pulling me under.
“Bear,” I gasp again. “I can’t?—”
Eyes wild and blood streaking his face, he notices the crimson staining my gown and he makes a quick decision. “Drop it,” he orders.
I shake my head, tears spilling. “No. We came this far, we?—”
“Drop it, goddamn it!” His voice is a whip, fierce and final.
I let go, and the satchel strikes the dock with a hollow thud, bursts open, and gold scatters like embers from a fire. Coins roll wild, jewels skitter across the planks. Hands dive for them—porters, passengers, and strangers scrambling like rats.
I sway, breath shuddering in my throat. Kodiak hauls me up into his arms, cradling me against his chest. Behind us, the fortune vanishes into grasping hands, gone as if it never was. Ahead, only the open dock, the sun blazing cruel and bright.
“Hold on, lamb,” he growls, barreling forward, voice raw with something I’ve never heard in him before—fear. “Ain’t no gold in this world worth losin’ you.”
We hit the gangway at full tilt. Dockhands scatter, dropping coils of rope and crates as Kodiak barrels through. Blood drips from my side, hot down my skirts, but he doesn’t slow, doesn’t falter.
Someone yells, “Catch the outlaw!”
Pistols crack, shots raining down from the rails.
Kodiak clears the gangway in three strides, boots hitting Galveston soil with a thunder that rattles through me. He scans once, sharp as a hawk, and spies a carriage horse tied to a post. The horse rears at the noise, the whites of its eyes flashing.
Kodiak’s already moving, barreling toward the animal, brushing men aside like they’re no more than stalks of tall grass. With one savage wrench, he rips the reins loose, vaults onto the beast’s back, and yanks me up in front of him.
Pain sears through my flank as I’m hauled across his thighs. His arm locks around me, an iron band.
“Hold on,” he cries.
Gunfire cracks from the wharf, bullets sparking off crates, tearing through canvas. Dockhands duck, women shriek, men scatter in every direction. The horse bolts at the sound and rips down the wharf, knocking over barrels and baggage. Briny wind whips my hair across my face, stinging my eyes.
At our backs, whistles sing, and we leave the port a kicked hornets’ nest of fury. Ahead, the wide street gapes open, lined with carriages, wagons, and startled townsfolk diving for cover.
Kodiak’s voice rumbles against my ear, fierce and raw. “Don’t you quit on me now, lamb. You hear me? You keep breathin’.”
I clutch at his arm, slick with sweat and blood, and try to answer, but the words won’t come. The horse’s muscles band and strain under us, every tromp lashing my wound, but I cling to Kodiak, the only thing keeping me from descending into the abyss. The world blurs, bright sun flashing, shadows strobing past as the horse flies beneath us. My fingers slip on Kodiak’s arm, too slick, too weak.
“Stay with me!” His chest hammers against my back, every breath of his ragged and fierce.
Mine come shallow, broken. My skirts cling heavy, wet with blood. The air tastes of iron. I try to lift my head to answer him, but my vision spins, dark pressing in from the edges.
