“I know.” He signaled to another man. “We’ll take her too. But we have to move fast. Can you walk?”
She didn’t care if the whole road to where they were going was strewn with burning hot coals. If it meant getting out of here, then she’d walk all over them and cry about it later. She grabbed his sleeve and whispered, “Home?”
The man, Rowan, nodded. “Yeah. I swear, you’re going home.”
This time, she believed him. She flinched away from the sound of a zipper. Just past Rowan’s shoulder, she could see Maria being closed into a body bag.
“Do you need help putting these on?”
“What?” She blinked in confusion at the question. Her gaze dropped to his hands, and it took longer than it should have to figure out that he was talking about her boots. The soldier must have decided she wasn’t capable of doing it herself, as he reached for her leg and slid the first boot on and then the second.
Enya winced and bit the inside of her lip when he hauled her to her feet, and each foot settled into the boots.
“Roger that, TOC. We’re moving to Priority One, now.”
“Wha—?” She cut off when he held up one hand, silently asking her to wait. “Seahorse, move your asses.” She figured out he was speaking into some kind of headset attached to his helmet. “We’re RTB. Stat.”
When it looked like he’d finished talking, Enya whispered, “Does that mean we’re going home? I really hope that means we’re going home.”
The whites of Rowan’s teeth shone in the dimness of her prison. “It does.” As if he were some fancy prince at a ball, he gave her a sweeping bow and pointed to the door. “Your chariot awaits, milady. Shall we?”
She nodded, “Yes.”
I love this dream.
Because it had to be a dream. A solace her brain offered her from the horrors of the camp.
I don’t want to wake up from this dream.
***
“Seahorse,move your asses. We’re RTB, STAT.” They’d found her; she was battered, bruised, traumatized, and probably would never fully get over what had happened in this place. But she was alive, and Rowan was taking the win.
Now you just have to keep her that way.
“Seahorse One, I got a squirter,” Jericho said on comms.
“Take him,” Rowan confirmed immediately. The last thing they needed was for that runner to make it to the incoming convoy.They would need every ounce of speed they could manage to make it to the extraction point.
“Got him.”
“Copy. Fall in.” When he saw how she hobbled, Rowan wrapped an arm around Enya Moore and made a decision. “Ma’am, can we put you on a stretcher, because we’ll move faster?”
“No. I?—”
“You’ll endanger my men.” He tried to soften his tone, but knew he failed when she flinched away from him. “We’re going to need to hotfoot it for at least thirty minutes through the jungle. If not a stretcher, then I can carry you on my back, but I’m afraid of hurting you.”
“Piggyback?”
He didn’t blame her for sounding confused. “Yeah, a piggyback.”
“Okay.”
“My brother will help you climb on.” Rowan hoped she didn’t freak out when Gael lifted her. He sighed in relief when her arms wrapped around his neck. Having her on his back meant his access to his weapons would be limited. But right now, he was willing to take the risk. He shifted his stance so her legs were over his arms. “Two, you have command. Let’s roll.” His men fell in around them, and they moved faster toward the pinpointed location where the helicopter would meet them.
Over his headset, he could hear the conversation between Gael and Ghost’s pilot.
“Skillet, this is Seahorse Two, over.”
