Page 65 of Carter
The ridge was turning into a furnace—gunfire rattling nonstop, smoke choking the air, the roar of engines echoing in the valley below. Redwood wasn’t just probing us anymore. They were pushing hard, wave after wave, trying to crush us through sheer numbers.
Cyclone ducked behind cover, blood streaking his sleeve. “Ammo’s running low!”
“Make every round count,” River snapped, his voice steel even under fire.
I leaned out, squeezing off three shots. Two dropped. The third dove into the undergrowth, spraying dirt with blind fire. My magazine clicked empty. I ejected it, slammed in another, movements sharp and practiced—but my hands were starting to ache from the rhythm.
Gideon shouted over the chaos, “Extraction bird is fifteen minutes out!”
Fifteen. That was a lifetime out here.
I glanced at Sable. He sat slumped against the boulder, wrists bound, eyes bright with something between fear andfascination. “Redwood will bleed you dry,” he rasped. “And when they do, she’ll be next.”
Rage boiled up my throat. I almost pulled the trigger then and there, consequences be damned. But Harper’s face cut through the fury like light through smoke. Her vow—together—anchored me.
I shoved the muzzle against Sable’s chest, my voice a growl. “You’re not getting the satisfaction. You live until I say otherwise.”
The ridge erupted again—grenades thudding into the dirt, the shockwave rattling my teeth. My ears rang, vision flashing white. I rolled, shoulder slamming into stone, rifle still tight in my grip.
River’s voice cut through the haze. “Hold the line! We just need fifteen more minutes!”
Fifteen minutes. Fifteen lifetimes.
I gritted my teeth, chambered another round, and rose back into the fire.
Because if Redwood wanted to break me, they’d have to climb over my body first.
And I wasn’t going down. Not while Harper was waiting for me to come home.
100
Carter
The ridge was a war zone. Smoke curled through shattered trees, gunfire rolling like thunder, the air thick with blood and iron. My pulse hammered with every squeeze of the trigger, every enemy that dropped in the dirt below.
But they just kept coming.
Redwood’s men swarmed up the slope, relentless, their shouts echoing through the valley. One charged the boulder where Sable was bound—too close, too fast. I swung, fired point-blank. The man crumpled at Sable’s feet, blood soaking into the ground.
Sable’s laugh rasped, dark and low. “You can’t protect her forever, soldier. When they break you, she’s mine.”
The fury that ripped through me was volcanic. I slammed the rifle muzzle under his chin, my voice a deadly whisper. “You’ll never touch her. Never.”
“Carter!” River barked. “Focus!”
I forced myself back to the fight, rage folding into precision. Cyclone’s rifle thundered again, Gideon’s pistol crackedsharp, and River’s bursts cut clean across the left flank. But ammo was burning fast. Too fast.
“Ten minutes!” Gideon shouted, eyes glued to his laptop, comms buzzing. “Bird is inbound!”
Ten minutes. That was the difference between Harper seeing me again—or not.
A grenade sailed overhead, landing just short. The blast rocked the ridge, dirt and stone slamming into my back. My ears rang, but I didn’t falter. I pressed tighter against the rocks, reloaded, and leaned out again.
One target. Two. Three. Each one a vow. Each one a promise.
Because I wasn’t fighting for orders. I wasn’t fighting for a mission.
I was fighting to get back to her.
