Page 84 of Fury
I spot the first man fifteen yards to my left, his dark suit ridiculous against the forest backdrop. He moves clumsily, unfamiliar with wilderness terrain. I circle behind him, Volkov's knife still clutched in my hand.
One swift movement—arm around his neck, blade across his throat—and he drops without a sound. I lower him gently to the ground, retrieving his gun before continuing my hunt.
The second man proves to be more challenging. He moves with military precision, gun raised, scanning methodically. I wait until he passes me, then launch myself from the shadows. He manages to fire once, the shot going wild, before my weight brings him down. We grapple in the dirt, his strength surprising as he fights for his life.
His fingers close around my throat, cutting off my air. Black spots dance at the edge of my vision as I fumble for the knife I dropped in the initial attack. My hand closes around a rock instead. I bring it down with all my remaining strength, connecting with his temple. His grip loosens instantly.
Two down. One to go.
The third man, the one who touched Livie, is nowhere to be seen. I retrieve both weapons and move cautiously back toward the cabin. Volkov will be regaining consciousness soon, if he hasn't already.
As I approach the clearing, I spot movement at the cabin door. Volkov staggers outside, blood streaming down his neck, barking orders into a satellite phone. The third man emerges behind him, gun drawn, scanning the tree line.
I could end them both now. The gun in my hand has enough rounds. Two quick shots and this nightmare would be over.
But death would be too merciful for what they've done—to Livie, to Diane, to countless others. No, I have other plans for them. Plans that will make them wish I'd killed them here and now.
Instead, I melt back into the forest, circling wide to approach Livie's hiding place from a different direction. I don't want to lead them straight to her if they're tracking me.
"Livie," I whisper as I near the thicket. "It's me."
She emerges cautiously, leaves clinging to her hair, the gun still in her hands. The sight of her—alive, unharmed, fierce despite everything—nearly brings me to my knees.
"Are they dead?" she asks, lowering the weapon.
"Two of them," I confirm, helping her to her feet. "Volkov and the other one are still at the cabin, but they've called for backup. We need to move."
"What about Diane?" Her eyes search mine. "We can't just leave her."
The loyalty in her heart, even now, even for someone who betrayed her, steals my breath. "If she's still alive, she's not here. They would have used her against us if they could."
Pain flashes across her face, but she nods. "Which way?"
Olivia
As I take a step forward, sharp pain shoots up from my right ankle, making me gasp. I stumble, grabbing Greyson's arm to keep from falling.
"What's wrong?" His eyes scan my body, immediately alert to my distress.
"My ankle," I admit, testing it with another step, only to wince as the pain intensifies. "I must have twisted it when we jumped from the bike. I didn't notice until now—adrenaline, I guess."
Greyson crouches to examine it, his touch gentle despite the blood still drying on his face. "It's swelling already." His expression darkens. "Can you walk?"
"I'll manage," I insist, gritting my teeth. "I can go as far as I need to."
He shakes his head, decision already made. "No. You're not putting any more weight on it."
Before I can protest, he scoops me into his arms, cradling me against his chest like I weigh nothing.
"Greyson, you're hurt too," I argue, noting the grimace he tries to hide. "Put me down. I can walk."
"Not happening." His voice leaves no room for argument. "I'm not letting you hurt yourself more."
"But—"
"Livie." He looks down at me, his eyes fierce with determination. "I can't stand the thought of you in pain. Not for one more second. Let me do this."
The raw emotion in his voice silences my protests. I wrap my arms around his neck, surrendering to his protection.
