Page 84 of Senseless
Shadow must have been thinking similarly because out of nowhere, he braked so hard and suddenly that I crashed against his back. “Fuck!”
I looked ahead of us on the road and cursed out my own agreement. “Fuck.”
The wind had blown away some debris lying across the road about twenty feet ahead of us, revealing a spike strip underneath. And roughly fifty feet beyond that, a metal barricade cut across our path. Braced on top of the barricade were long black rifle barrels pointed at us, the shooters crouching on the other side of the wall. Armored trucks took up the road behind the shooters at the barricades, more soldiers in camo uniforms covered behind their vehicles with weapons drawn on us.
Fuck it all, we weren’t fast enough. The prison staff must have contacted the nearest army base and told them to be ready for us.
“Shadow…”
“Stay behind me,” he instructed under his voice. “Just follow my lead. We’ll be okay.”
But I heard the apprehension in his voice and it only worried me more.
“Drop all your weapons and get off the motorcycle,” one of the soldiers commanded through a megaphone. “We’ll let you live as long as you follow orders.”
Shadow didn’t move right away, and I only tightened my grip on his rifle. A sound behind us had me turning to look—three more armored Jeeps drove up behind us, spreading out across the road to block us in. Soldiers opened the car doors and swarmed out systematically, bracing weapons over doors and across the hoods of their vehicles.
“Shadow?”
“Do as they say, Mari.” Shadow slowly removed his two handguns from the holsters at his sides, dropped them on the ground, and raised his hands in the air.
“Shadow, we can’t.”
“We can’t die here either,” he replied. “We’ll figure something out, but we’re not in a good position here.”
“They’ll throw us in that prison!”
“Then we’ll throw riots and rebel until we get out.” My big, stoic man even tossed a smile at me over his shoulder. “I know my way around a prison, we’ll be okay. We already have supporters on the inside.”
“Last warning,” the megaphone wielder called. “Drop the weapons and step away from the motorcycle, or wewillopen fire.”
I knew that if I dropped that gun, it would be the end. Something twisting and turning in my gut told me there would be no getting out for us. No seeing Four Corners or any of my other men again. I just had to decide if it would be better to die within concrete walls and iron bars, or out here on the road, filled with bullet holes.
At least this way, I had Shadow with me.
“I love you,” I whispered. “And I’m so fucking proud of everything you’ve done.”
“Mari,” he hissed. “Drop the guns,now.”
“Duck behind the bike and make a grab for yours,” I said in reply.
My decision made, I did step away and into the road as ordered, but I didnotdrop my fucking guns.
“Mari!” Shadow yelled, reaching to pull me back behind him, but stopped when I stretched my arms out to either side of me. One hand wielded his rifle, the other my small handgun, pointing at the soldiers blocking our path both in front and behind us. The rifle was heavy and definitely not meant to be shot one-handed. Good thing I didn’t plan on holding it for long.
Time seemed to go still for a single beat, neither Shadow nor our enemies believing what I was doing. Then I squeezed the triggers on both guns, opening fire and letting chaos erupt.
Shadow must have finally ducked for cover behind his bike—I wasn’t sure, I couldn’t see him. I had tunnel vision, hyper-focused on taking down a few soldiers with me, maybe even clearing a path for Shadow to keep going. They must have returned fire, I didn’t know. I stood in the middle of the road shooting forward and backwards, all sound in my ears muted and my mind feeling oddly calm.
I did my part,I thought, watching soldiers duck behind their barriers in slow motion.I saved lives. I healed wounds of the heart and body. I loved more deeply than I ever thought possible. I’m ready.
I saw men aim their guns and shoot back at me, but none seemed to hit. I was still standing in the road, firing so rapidly that my guns burned hot and my hands ached. I felt nothing but my final desire to do my last bit of good in the world—take out some fuckers who would torture and kill me.
Then the ground swung out from under my feet and slapped me in the face. Heat burned my cheek, and the smell of asphalt and gunpowder filled my nose. I could hear everything now, a cacophony of gunshots and shouting voices. A heavy weight pressed down on top of me, smashing my face and chest down into the road.
“Even for an avenging angel, you’re pretty damn ballsy,” said a voice near my ear.
I twisted my neck to look up, recognizing the silver hair of the man who helped me cut through the fence.
