Page 60 of Carter
Carter
The crack of gunfire split the morning as the first rounds slammed into the SUV’s hood, sparks flying. I dropped to a knee, rifle up, sighting down the line of attackers pouring from the black vehicles ahead.
“Out! Move!” River barked, already firing controlled bursts as he took cover behind the front bumper.
Cyclone hauled the SUV into reverse, tires screaming, but another vehicle cut off our retreat, skidding sideways across the road. More men piled out, rifles raised.
We were boxed in.
“Down!” I roared, shoving Sable flat against the seat as bullets shattered the side window, glass spraying like ice. His smug laugh grated in my ears, but I ignored it, my focus locked on the fight.
Gideon was out next, dragging his pack with him, diving behind a fallen log as rounds tore up dirt around him. His laptop clattered beside him, but his hands were already pulling a pistol free, firing sharp and precise.
Cyclone yanked the emergency brake, killing the SUV’sspin, then joined us, his rifle booming, the sound ripping through the trees.
I pressed my shoulder to the doorframe, rifle steady, breath controlled. Sight. Squeeze. Reset. Three down in seconds, their bodies crumpling across the gravel.
But more kept coming. A flood. Redwood muscle, trained and relentless.
Sable lifted his head, grinning through the chaos. “Told you,” he drawled, as if the firefight was proof he owned us all.
I slammed the butt of my rifle into his chest, knocking the wind out of him, then turned back to the fight. “Keep him alive!” I shouted over the gunfire. “They want him back—they don’t get him!”
River’s voice cut sharp through the comms. “We hold until the flank opens. Push right!”
I nodded, firing another burst, rage and resolve pounding in my veins. Every shot wasn’t just survival—it was a vow.
For Harper. For the life I’d promised her.
No matter how many came at us, I wasn’t dying on this road.
And I sure as hell wasn’t letting them take me from her.
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Carter
The air was a storm of lead and smoke, bullets sparking off metal, tearing bark from trees. My lungs burned, ears ringing, but my focus cut razor-sharp.
“Push right!” River shouted again, signaling with two fingers before firing another burst.
Cyclone laid down heavy fire, his rifle roaring, each blast ripping through Redwood muscle as they tried to close the gap. Gideon darted low, quick and lethal, his sidearm cracking in controlled rhythm.
I grabbed Sable by the collar and yanked him out of the SUV, half-dragging, half-shoving him toward the tree line. He stumbled, cursing, but I kept the barrel of my rifle jammed into his back. If Redwood wanted him, they were going to have to go through me.
Rounds hissed past, one tearing a hot line across my shoulder. Pain flared, sharp and bright, but I gritted my teeth and kept moving. Harper’s face flashed in my mind—her smile, her voice, the way she whisperedalways.
That word was my armor.
We broke toward the right flank, River clearing the pathwith surgical precision. One down, two down, bodies dropping into the dirt. The air stank of cordite and blood.
“Clear enough!” River barked. “Move now!”
Cyclone surged ahead, Gideon at his side. I shoved Sable forward, forcing his injured leg to keep up, every stumble answered with the dig of my rifle to keep him moving.
The treeline opened, just enough of a break to slip through. But more engines roared in the distance—reinforcements.
No time.
