Page 81 of Carter
Steel fencing coiled around the compound like barbed wire on a wound. Floodlights swept in timed arcs, slicing across gravel lots and low, blocky buildings. Armed men moved in pairs along the perimeter, their rifles gleaming under the light. From up here, the place looked impenetrable, a fortress built on shadows and blood.
For a moment, the old fear surged—icy, suffocating, the kind that whispered I didn’t belong here, that I’d only slow them down.
But then Carter’s hand brushed mine again, grounding me. He didn’t speak, didn’t need to. The weight of his touch said it all:you’re not alone in this. But I knew they were all risking their life for me. I am the one these killers wanted.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to look, really look. This was the monster that had haunted me in whispers and threats, that had marked me, tried to break me. And now, standing on this ridge, I felt something stronger than fear.
Anger.
It curled hot in my chest, burning through the tremor inmy hands, through the quiver in my knees. Redwood wasn’t just Carter’s enemy. They were mine.
River’s voice cut low through the dark. “Patrols shift every fifteen minutes. That’s our window.”
Gideon tapped on his tablet, the glow faint against his face. “Once I overload their comms, security cameras go blind. Ten minutes, no more.”
Cyclone cracked his neck, grinning sharp. “Plenty of time to make some noise.”
Their words blurred at the edges as I stared down at the compound. For the first time, I wasn’t imagining what Redwood could do to me. I was imagining what we would do to them.
I pressed closer to Carter, my voice a whisper meant only for him. “Let’s end this.”
He looked at me then, his eyes fierce and unyielding, and I knew he heard not just the fear in my voice but the fire too.
Together.
And for the first time, the word didn’t just feel like a promise.
It felt like a battle cry.
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The compound sprawled below us, all steel and shadows, but I didn’t see walls. I saw weaknesses. Blind corners. Dead zones in the sweep of the lights. Gaps in patrol rotations that River had already clocked.
We didn’t have long. Ten minutes of silence once Gideon jammed their comms, fifteen before the next patrol shift. That wasn’t a window. That was a crack in the armor. And we were about to drive a hammer through it.
“North ridge is our entry,” River murmured, crouched low beside me. “Steep terrain, but less traffic. We can slip through before the next rotation.”
“Copy,” I said, my voice steady, my rifle snug against my shoulder.
Cyclone grinned, checking his rifle one more time. “Been waiting for this.”
Gideon adjusted the straps on his pack, his eyes never leaving the glow of his tablet. “Once I cut their comms, we’re on the clock. No mistakes.”
I nodded, then turned to Harper. She crouched close, her bag slung tight, her eyes locked on the compound. Shelooked terrified, yeah—but she also looked ready. Steady. Fierce.
My chest tightened, pride and fear tangling like barbed wire. She shouldn’t be here. God knew I wanted to drag her back to the cabin, lock the door, and guard it with my life. But she’d made her choice. And I had to honor it.
I leaned close, my voice low, meant only for her. “Stay with me. No matter what happens, you don’t break away. Understand?”
Her nod was quick, sure. “Together.”
The word hit deep, carving into me like a vow.
I pulled back, checked my rifle, and gave the order. “Move out.”
The team slipped down the ridge, shadows folding into shadows, every step measured, every breath controlled.
