Page 85 of Senseless
“What…what?” It was all I could stammer out in my disbelief.
“Let’s get off this road, darlin’. Your work ain’t done.”
He lifted up, allowing me to scoot out from underneath him, but kept an arm around my back as we hurried in a low crouch together to the side of the road. The man practically dragged me behind Shadow’s bike, where my man gave me a very disapproving look as he reloaded a gun.
“What happened? How…?” I stared at the silver-haired man, who’d escaped the prison complex with a bunch of older men barely an hour ago. “How did you get out here?”
“Stole some wheels and boomsticks of our own.” The man grinned, tilting his head upward.
I followed his gaze to the top of the hills running alongside the road. Nothing was there at first, then a few faces—and guns—popped into view. They fired at the soldiers, most of whom were either dead or retreating. More and more freed prisoners looked over the ledge at us, pumping fists and cheering. All I could do was stare with my mouth open—these people lined the hills as far as the eye could see.
I spotted the young woman from the first yard I freed and she waved at us with a smile.
“My daughter up there,” the man nodded at her, “told me y’all were heading for Four Corners, so we figured you’d come this way.” He looked at me, a bit amused and patronizing. “Didn’t know our angel was on a suicide mission, though.”
“I wasn’t, I…” My gaze fell to my lap, where my sore, bruised hands shook. Shadow grabbed one of them, squeezing gently and rubbing my palm. “I just knew we wouldn’t survive if we let them take us.”
“Well, maybe y’all got angels watching over you too.” The man held a hand out to Shadow, who clasped and shook it gratefully. “I’m Samson.”
“Shadow,” my man answered, then tilted his head toward me. “This is Mariposa.”
“Mari,” I told Samson, holding my own hand out to him. “You saved us. All of you.”
“Just returning the gesture in kind.” Samson helped us both to our feet with a smile, earning more cheers from the people lining the hills.
Relief swept through me as Shadow and I exchanged a glance, then raised our fists in victory with the crowd.
“There’s gonna be more army coming,” Samson warned, his expression turning serious. “We’ll be happy to escort you out of Jerriton. They won’t touch you in neutral territory without orders.”
“Come to Four Corners with us,” I urged him. “You’ll be safe there, everyone will.”
“Thank you, but no.” The older man shook his head. “Now that we’re out, there’s more friends and family that need us here.”
“Four Corners is yours then,” Shadow said. “We’re on the brink of war, but will support the people of Jerriton however we can.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of the governors playing war games with our lives.” Samson crossed his arms. “And let me assure you right now, the people of Jerriton stand with Four Corners.”
Twenty-Six
GUNNER
“This shit is so ugly,” Jandro sighed mournfully at the camouflage painted bikes. “And it’s gonna double my workload painting them back to normal after this is all done.”
“Oh, we’re still planning on being here afterall thisis done?” It was like we didn’t want to say what was actually happening—war. Fighting for the simple right to live and exist on our own terms.
I sat on the hood of some rusted out car in Dave’s garage, where Jandro had been working out of.
“Yeah, I know.” Jandro grinned sheepishly as he wiped his hands on a rag. “Can you imagine it? Getting some time off after saving everyone’s lives?”
“Yeah…” I let the word trail off, paying attention to the unease in my gut. Saving Four Corners and everyone within it was a big deal, to be sure. But I couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more.
What could bemorethan saving thousands of lives? I didn’t know. But plenty of other wars had been fought without gods involved. Without uncanny abilities like fast healing and seeing through eyes other than your own. I’d venture a guess that no gods had appeared during any of the major wars throughout history, so why were they getting involved with a bunch of unimportant bikers?
“I know that look,” Jandro called from across the shop. “What are your two brain cells telling you, blondie?”
I ignored his ribbing. “What do you think it means?”
“What what means?”
