Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
“Got it.” Juniper stands at my side as the truck door slides open with a heavy thunk. The air from outside floats in and is much thicker and heavier, the weight of it clinging to my suit. Caz grunts as he hops out of the truck.
“My legs feel heavier,” Rowan says. “That normal?”
“Probably,” Caz mutters.
His heard turns, and those icy blue eyes land on me. “Wait here.”
The truck door slides closed, and I move closer to the window, peering out as Juniper does the same.
Several of the soldiers who tagged along rush between the buildings with guns aimed forward. In my mask, I hear the words, “Clear. Clear. Clear,” until they’re near the vehicles again.
We watch Caz, Killian, and Rowan make their way toward the tallest building. Caz pulls out something round from his pocket, reads it, then he looks toward the roof of the tall building. He’s reading the paper Danica stuffed in my hand.
The building they face has no windows, only gaping holes spread throughout the length of it. The door is thick and iron like. Several of the other men meet up to Caz, dressed head to toe in armor and gas masks, guns up, red lasers pointing directly at the building.
“Danica!” Caz shouts. His voice fills the inside of my mask. “Where are ya? We came to your location, now come out!”
A thick silence lingers in the air. My heart beats faster as I watch the building with bated breath. There’s a thump behind us, and Juniper gasps as the truck door slides open.
A man stands outside the door, pale beneath all the dirt and oil on his skin. He’s shirtless, his eyes red-rimmed, a wild grimace on his face.
“Oi! Fuck off!” Juniper shouts, raising a foot and kicking the man in the chest. He goes flying back, but just as quickly as he goes, two more men appear, gripping Juniper by the ankle and ripping her out of the truck. Her gun falls to the ground as she tries snatching it out, and I suck in a sharp breath, running to pick it up.
“Let go of me!” she screams. One of them tries taking off her gas mask, and she screams again, whipping her head left and right to fight them off.
“Let her go!” I shout.
I raise the gun at the men, and they eye me, but they don’t react. I suppose they’re used to being faced with death. The guns don’t scare them. Being shot to death would make a much better fate than suffering here.
I freeze, unable to pull the trigger. I’ve never shot someone with a gun before, but they’re hurting her. She’ll die if they get that mask off her head. Just as I wrap a finger around the trigger, both men are blasted in the head. For a split second, I believe I did that. I pulled the trigger and shot both of them…but then Killian and Rowan are on either side of the truck, smoke drifting from the barrels of their large guns. The men’s bodies crumple to the ground.
Rowan rushes to assist Juniper after she kicks one of the men’s limp arms off of her. “You all right, Jun?” he asks.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Those dirty assholes.” She straightens herself up, wiping dirt off her clothes.
“For Vakeeli’s sake, Willow. Next time, pull the bloody trigger,” Killian grumbles, moving past me to get to his sister.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Someone lets out a screeching roar, and when I look to my left, a man is charging my way. I start to raise Juniper’s gun at him, but he doesn’t make it far. A gunshot goes off, and he falls to the ground with a lifeless thud. I shudder a breath as blood dribbles from a hole in his head, and then Caz steps around the corner, pulling the trigger again and sending a bullet into the dead man’s back.
“You can’t freeze, Willow,” he says, turning to me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper again. I shift my focus to Juniper. “Jun, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she assures me. “I’m fine. Everything’s okay.”
But it’s not okay. She almost died because I was too scared to shoot people who were attacking her. What the hell is wrong with me?
Caz takes my hand and leads me around the truck where the rest of the soldiers are posted.
“Danica! I won’t call you again! Come out now!” Caz orders. I notice some people scatter away from a distance, disappearing into the other buildings to escape whatever chaos is going on. I pray no one else attacks us.
A door creaks loudly on the hinges, and I bring my attention to the door of the towering building again. When it has completely opened, a woman appears.
Danica.
She’s dressed in all black, no gas mask on her face; however, a large sword is on her back secured by a thick leather band that crosses her chest. Her scarred eye is milky, the scar seeming redder now than before.