A glance behind me reveals flashes of the gray uniforms of Central Cities guards. The reality barely processes before the shooting begins.
Roderick dives for the shelter of the trees, taking me with him.
Vella has whirled around to return fire, running backward to give us cover as we half scramble and half crawl into the wooded area that surrounds the clearing, the trees right now our only hope of surviving this encounter. I’ve got people scattered around the area, hidden at carefully chosen points in the woods, but right now that’s not going to save us from a unit of guards all shooting directly at us.
Jasper must have gotten back to his feet because he’s fleeing the gunfire, leaving the rest of us behind.
And Troy…
“I’m so sorry,” he tells me, his face twisting with fear and grief as he starts shooting back at the guards. “I didn’t know?—”
He doesn’t finish. Because he’s standing still, he’s an easy target. He’s shot. Once and then again. He collapses to the ground.
We’ve crawled into the shelter of the trees now. Roderick hauls me back to my feet, shooting steadily with his free hand to help Vella with cover. “Run,” he says. “Run now!”
I do. Not because any part of me wants to leave my friends behind to get killed in an ambush but because I know far too well that my presence will put them in even more danger.
They’d sacrifice their own safety to save me.
I sprint clumsily through the trees until I reach Heidi and Jon, who have been waiting in case of a situation exactly like this. Together, we run for an old root cellar next to a collapsed, ancient cabin we’d already identified as a good hiding spot for emergencies.
We’re in the emergency now.
I huddle there in the dim, underground space, stunned and winded but uninjured. A few of the others who were positioned nearby join us one by one.
Until finally there’s another knock. Heidi opens up to reveal Vella’s damp, dirty face.
I exhale hoarsely in relief as she climbs down silentlyto join us. Then she turns and helps a bleeding Roderick climb down too.
“Troy?” I mouth in the dim light of a battery-operated lantern. It’s a small space, and there are a lot of us huddled here now.
Vella shakes her head.
“Fuck every one of those bastards,” Roderick breathes out. “Fuck them and all their kin.”
Jasper was Troy’s kin, and he still manipulated him, used him to betray us, no doubt tempted by promises of a government reward.
“Yeah,” Vella agrees in a murmur. We can’t make much noise because our safety relies on no one discovering our hiding spot. “Fuck them all.”
I agree with the sentiment, but it’s not at the top of my mind.
My strongest feeling is that I wish Ben was here right now.
8
We hidein the ancient root cellar for hours.
There were only two units of guards waiting to ambush us—a total of no more than sixteen. Any more than that would get attention, so they were no doubt hoping to use the surprise ambush rather than sheer numbers to get us.
Getme.
Roderick and Vella are pretty sure they hit four of them before they ran, but that still leaves up to a dozen men out there searching.
The entrance to this cellar is blocked by a lot of dead brush, so it’s almost impossible to find unless you know what you’re looking for.
But still…
There’s a chance one of the guards could stumble onit, and we can’t risk retreating back to the outpost until we have some confidence that they’ve given up.
