Page 30 of Flint's Battle

Kian scoffed. “For Emery, Blake’ll muscle through.”

He nodded toward the sky when a distant whop whop whop echoed around them. “There she is. Let’s hope our buddies got the bastard, because Emery can’t wait for us to know the area’s clear.”

“Asshole will have to shoot through me to get to her again.” Flint glanced at the chopper quickly approaching from the west, when it dawned on him he hadn’t even asked about Moana and the others. “Shit, what about everyone else?”

Had there been more casualties? He didn’t even know if Bowie and Carter had made it back, yet. Though, it only took a quick scan of the beach to realize it was empty. He spotted his two buddies already tossing their boards in the back of Bowie’s truck.

“Raider’s got everyone secured in his vehicle. He won’t let anything happen to them. But I don’t think this was a mass shooting attempt. That asshole only fired once.”

“He came gunning for Emery.”

“I’m betting he’s a professional. Whatever you two got involved in last night is definitely coming back to bite you in the ass.”

Flint scoffed. “How the hell do you know about last night?”

“I’ve got connections. Ones we can discuss later. Time to move.”

Flint gathered Emery close then shuffled to his feet. The scenery swam for a moment, the earlier lack of oxygen going straight to his head. But he managed to force it down — get his feet moving. Emery barely made a sound, drifting in and out of consciousness. But she was still alive, each raspy breath feathering across his chest.

He kept her close, shielding her as Blake landed in the parking lot, spooling the engines down so they could duck in without getting sandblasted. He climbed onboard, laying Emeryacross one set of seats as Kian moved in behind him, telling Blake to go.

Two seconds, flat and Blake was up and racing across the ground, banking it over then heading toward Kona — the landscape rushing past at some insane speed. Kian went to work — had plasma and a saline solution hooked up in under a minute. Was constantly checking her vitals.

Flint cleared his throat. “Well?”

Kian huffed. “Pressure’s low, and she’s still bleeding. Looks like the bullet ricocheted — came back out.”

“That’s better than being inside, right?”

“Sure, except where it left a fucking crater across her back. I can’t get the damn thing to stop bleeding. Do you know what blood type she is?”

Flint stared at the man. “Sorry, brother. That hasn’t really come up in conversation.”

“Figured as much. What about you?”

“AB neg, which would be fine if I was the one bleeding out but shit for donating.”

“It’s not like I thought my good luck was going to start now.” He tapped his mic. “Blake.”

Blake glanced back at them. Nodded.

The chopper shook then it was going even faster as Blake talked to someone on the radio. She didn’t ask Kian to elaborate just focused on the horizon.

Flint’s stomach dropped. He knew that look. Had seen it more times than he could count when a mission had gone south. Kian was worried.

And not just a bit.

Flint gave the man a tap. “How bad are we talking?”

Kian pursed his lips, glancing at his watch. “Enough I’m not willing to wait.”

He took out more supplies, setting up a tube from his arm to hers in record time. “This won’t solve the issue, but it’ll keep her from going into hemorrhagic shock before we get to the hospital.”

“Of course, you’re O neg.”

He chuckled, though it sounded forced. “It’s a blessing. Or a curse. Pick your poison. You’re good to give me a hand if I get a bit woozy, right? You’re not all show and no go?”

“I’ll carry you both in if that’s what it takes, but…” He swallowed the fear trying to bubble free. “We don’t trade lives, Kian, unless it’s mine for hers.”

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