Page 11 of Beacon

It’s been a long time—years—since I’ve lived with the fear that every man I encounter might try to rape me. For the first few years after Impact, in the chaos of so many catastrophes, one right after another, that was reality. There was genuinely as much of a chance of an unknown man assaulting you as not. But our region has been stabilized for four years now, and with the stability came more personal security.

I know there are dangerous people around—even in my home in the heart of Kentucky—but it’s not like it used to be.

It’s not like this.

Here in the dark of The Wild, we might as well be back in the first year after Impact. These men clearly have no boundaries or social pressure to behave.

I’m a woman in their reach, so they’re going to take me.

Fighting the overpowering roar of terror in my head, I desperately grapple for Maria’s training and for all the repeated lessons Mack gave me. I block out the wave of fear enough to focus on the position of my body.

The first guy has got both my arms in his grip now. He’s wrenched them behind my back, and he’s using his hold on me to shove me forward face-first into a large tree.

I jerk my head back just in time to keep my nose from being crushed, but the rough bark scratches my chin.

My arms are completely useless. The man is holding them in a ruthless grip. But my feet are still free.

I swing one of them back against the man’s knee.

He grunts and falters just slightly. Enough for me to yank one of my arms out of his grip. I whirl around and bring up my knee as hard as I can, slamming it against his groin.

He makes a choking sound and doubles over, his grip relaxing on my other arm.

If it was only him, I might have been able to do it. Getaway even though my attacker is bigger than me. I’m diving for my gun, blocking out the pain from my wrenched shoulder and bruised forearm.

But there are two other men here, and I’m not any sort of Amazon.

There’s no way I can get away from all three of them.

The other two grab me, one on each side, and push me to the ground. I get a face full of leaves, pine straw, and soft dirt, but that’s not the worst of it.

There’s no way in the world I’m going to survive this. They’re going to take turns and then probably kill me. And if they don’t, they’ll drag me with them to whatever cave they crawled out of and will keep using me until there’s nothing left.

I know it for sure.

No question.

I tried so hard to learn how to be strong, but I’ll never be strong enough.

That’s my last thought before I hear the gunshots.

Gunshots. Out of nowhere.

And not from my pistol. These shots are louder. Bigger. And they’re moving closer. I still can’t see anything but the ground I’ve been pushed into, but I can hear the gunshots.

One. Two. Three. Four. A pause. Then one more.

Something heavy falls on top of me then. Right across my back.

Then it’s lifted off and dropped to the right of me. I hear the thump when it falls.

And I’m paralyzed. Prostrate on the ground.

Until I hear a gruff voice saying, “Anna.”

I know that voice. I’ll always know it. No matter how far he tries to run.

“Mack,” I choke out, suddenly capable of moving again.

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