My legs burn as I hold up my weight under his.
The medics have the gurney as close as humanly possible.
Hammond moves to the front of the seat and carries the man’s legs out and over as he takes each step out of the truck, a confined space that relies on angles. He finally steps onto the road, and I lower the guy’s shoulders and we move him to the gurney. The second my grip releases the weight, my arms shake.
I haul in a full breath after short pants.
“Good work, Tennison.”
“Sir.” I turn back to walk it off. To shake out the jelly feeling in my body.
Dammit.
The medics work quickly, assessing the man’s status, snapping out orders, and working him over, trying to stabilize him for transport.
We train for this. We’re fit, and still, it’s the slow, functional movements underload that take a toll.
And we keep going. We have to keep working, no matter whether we’re exhausted or not.
Whether people appreciate the risks we take to keep them safe.
A crack rings through the street, and every person turns their gaze toward the sound.
The woman from the curb stands in front of 53, an axe—my axe—in her hands, 53’s windshield shattered to smithereens.
“That’s what you get, fuckers. Good luck moving my piece of shit car. Have a nice fucking day!” she screams, throwing the axe to the asphalt and laughing manically before wandering down the street with her hands waving in the air.
Sandy’s gaze turns feral as his mouth gapes.
“The hell?” Owens says, resting the jaws on one popped hip.
“Well, now I don’t feel bad for her,” Davey says, brows falling as his face twists like he tasted something sour.
I’d say we all just did.
Chapter 23
MILES
It’s raining on my Saturday.
The one day I have time to spend outside in the sunshine without thirty pounds of equipment strapped to my person. And it’s damn well raining.
My feet pound the dirt track, regardless.
Rawlins is right in front of me. Griff and Dex in front of him.
Puddles splash up my legs as I thunder through them, hot on Rawlins’s tail.
Each breath that puffs from my chest mists a little before it disappears. The days are getting cooler. The leaves are turning that amber hue the shorter days bring.
We round the last bend in the track, and I push forward, chasing the guys to the finish. Griff and Dex walk circles, hands on their hips, as Laws bends over with a groan.
The rain lets up a little, but the drizzle sets in.
We’re all pretty fit, but the elements bring out the nuances in your body that perfect conditions leave untouched.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
