Page 71 of Tactical Lies

Soaked to the skin.

Walking with her prosthetic across the muddy, slippery ground, with the rain beating down upon her was difficult, but she headed for the generator with the same determination that she had approached all the operations and therapy she’d faced after her assault.

When you put your mind to it you could do anything.

So she kept going, ducking her head, following the thin beam of light from her flashlight, steadfastly putting one foot in front of the other.

She was most of the way toward it when she saw something on the grass that made her stop.

Was that …

No.

It couldn’t be.

Yet it looked like …

Blood.

It was dark red and a large puddle of it was only two yards away from the generator. The torrents of rain were quickly washing it away, but she would have bet anything that she was right and it was blood.

Bending down beside it, she set her weapon down on the ground and reached out a trembling hand toward it. Touching her fingers to the puddle, she lifted them to her face and sniffed.

The metallic smell of blood assaulted her nostrils.

She was right.

Someone had bled out there and recently.

Connor. Where was he? Had they already taken his body? Was he dead or alive?

Jerking to her feet, she spun in a circle, screaming his name over and over again. The beam of light danced around her, but it wasn't enough to cut through the utter darkness of the combination of the night and the storm.

Then she saw them.

Shadows.

Multiple shadows.

Moving through the dark.

Toward her.

Circling her.

Closing in on her.

A scream fell from her lips as they grabbed at her.

Chapter

Seventeen

August 23rd

1:14 A.M.

Pain throbbed in his shoulder as he hoisted himself up into a tree, but since he could move his arm, Connor didn't think the injury was life-threatening in any way.

---