Page 77 of Survive the Night
It took a few moments for Sarah’s night vision to kick in after the glare of those headlights. As she blinked frantically in the full darkness, she closed her fist on Otto’s coat. Shapes slowly came back into focus, and the night wasn’t completely black anymore.
“What? Wa’s going on?” The lieutenant’s voice was slurred and much, much too loud. Otto quickly clapped a hand over Blessard’s mouth and met Sarah’s worried gaze. The lieutenant definitely had a head injury. Sarah fought down panic. Everything was going wrong.
Otto looked away, peering through the tree branches, and Sarah followed his gaze. A pair of mercenaries, rifles slung across their backs, headed their way. Sarah stiffened, pulling out her knife and unfolding it, keeping it carefully pointed away from Otto and Blessard. She was terrified of doing something stupid like losing her balance and accidentally stabbing one of them.
To her surprise, Otto put his gun away. Sarah was tempted to poke him and ask him what the freak he thought he was doing, but she didn’t want to distract him. The pair of mercenaries plowed through the snow, heading right toward their pine tree. Sarah was terrified that they had been spotted, but she tried to reassure her panicky brain that Aaron’s goons would’ve already been shooting if that had been the case.
“Gunnersen?” Blessard groaned, the word muffled by Otto’s hand. Sarah felt her heart rate kick up even more, and she squeezed the rigid knife handle until it bit through her gloves and into her fingers.
The first guy was about six feet ahead of the other, and he was closing in rapidly. Sarah shivered as he drew nearer, putting a reassuring hand on Xena’s head when the dog started panting nervously. She kept glancing at Otto, waiting for him to draw his gun again, but he didn’t reach for the weapon.
Instead, Otto moved his hand off Blessard’s mouth and did something with his hands in the snow. It wasn’t until he launched the snowball that Sarah figured out what he was doing. It hit the trunk of an aspen tree twenty feet away with a dull thud.
Both mercenaries twisted around toward the sound. Otto lunged, grabbing the closer man and pulling him back behind the tree, an arm locked around his neck. Otto did something so fast that Sarah couldn’t see, and then the man was lying in the snow next to her, his eyes fixed in a startled expression.
It was Jeb. Sarah couldn’t look away from his distant stare. She’d spent years in his unwanted company, and now he was dead.
“Jeb?” A male voice yanked her out of her horrified daze. It was the second guy who’d called, she realized. He must’ve discovered that his buddy was gone. Jeb. He must’ve realized that Jeb was gone. The mercenary ran toward their hiding space, his rifle off his back and in his hands, but Otto still didn’t pull his gun.
As the man got close, Otto charged, knocking the barrel of his rifle up and driving him back. The guy tripped, landing on his back in the snow, Otto on top of him. In just seconds, that man lay as still as Jeb.
“Nice work,” Blessard said, his words sounding clearer but still too loud.
Otto gave him a sharp glance, his finger to his lips in the universal sign for quiet.
“Leave me and Sarah here,” Blessard said, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. He seemed much more coherent than earlier, and Sarah hoped he’d stay that way. His concussed ranting had almost gotten them killed. “We need backup. If you can’t reach Theo and Hugh in time, get to the people in the bunker. The others might not be trained fighters, but at least they can help—the adults, at least. I’m sure Gordon has an arsenal in there. Get people, get weapons, and then get your ass back here. Take the dog. You’ve been training her, right? Guess this’ll be a trial by fire.”
Otto stared at him. “I’m not leaving either of you.”
“Otto.”
“No.”
“This is an order.” Blessard’s voice had a hard snap to it that made Sarah flinch, but Otto’s even gaze didn’t waver.
“I’m not leaving either of you.”
A shout in the distance made all of them snap their heads around so they could peer through the branches. The lieutenant was suddenly on his feet, his gun drawn and pointed right at her. Sarah stared, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. Blessard was a cop, one of the good guys. She knew how to recognize evil in people—at least, she thought she could, but the lieutenant’s betrayal shocked her to the core. What was happening?
“Don’t move.” Blessard backed up several steps, his movements smooth, while still keeping the pistol aimed at Sarah. The twisted ankle, the concussion—he’d faked everything. A small sound escaped before she could swallow it back, and Otto shifted toward her. “Don’t move, or I will shoot her.”
“Why are you doing this?” Otto sounded as if he’d been punched in the stomach.
“We’re not equipped to fight these people,” the lieutenant said. He seemed weary, but there was a thread of steel in his words. Somehow, Sarah knew they weren’t going to be able to talk him out of this. “It’s Monroe in the winter. We’re barely equipped to handle a license-plate theft. The Blanchetts’ and the Jovanovics’ battle isn’t with us. If we give them the two women, they’ll leave. If we don’t, they’ll destroy the whole town.”
“We can beat them.” Otto’s voice was rough, urgent, and his gaze flicked back and forth between Sarah and his lieutenant. “You don’t need to do this.”
“Yes, I do.” The lines on Blessard’s face deepened, and his mouth pulled down in a tense frown. “This isn’t one person with a few hired guns. This is the Blanchetts and the Jovanovics. It’s an army. If they fail tonight, they’ll keep coming. Monroe will be besieged until these women are back in their custody or nothing is left of Monroe. This is my town. I’ll do what I need to in order to save it. Sarah, come here.”
“Don’t do this, Lieutenant,” Otto growled.
Blessard’s jaw muscles tightened, but he didn’t look away from Sarah. “I don’t think your brother would care if I put a hole in you first, as long as it wasn’t anywhere too life-threatening. Be smart and listen. Come here.”
Her vision narrowed until all she could see was the gun he was holding. Her body wasn’t trembling anymore—at least, she couldn’t feel it. Sarah wondered if she’d gotten so scared that something had snapped in her head, because she was simply numb. She rose from her crouch, almost falling when Xena pressed against her legs.
“Not the dog,” Blessard ordered. “Either the dog stays with Otto, or I shoot it.”
Sarah’s frantic gaze found Otto, and he reached out to catch Xena’s collar. His expression was terrifying. She’d never seen him look so coldly furious. Whining softly, Xena strained against his hold, trying to get closer to Sarah.
