“A trip sounds far out. Can I take a few bottles of tequila?” He’d tried to think of an exotic drink, suitable for a journey. Oddly enough, he didn’t want the liquor to get drunk. He’d mentioned it more out of habit. The expert drinking aspect of his memory was solidly intact.
A man’s voice came out of the darkness. It could have been the white-haired guy, or one of the neighbors behind the walls that Poppy kept telling him about. “It’s not a far-out trip, dude. It’s a trip out of your life!”
Poppy flew back to him. He felt the cool breeze of her wings as she arrived, but it left him wishing she wasn’t there. The waves of air beat against his face like barbed-wire whips, causing him to tear up.
“Right now, a trip out of my life sounds pretty good.”
CHAPTER 11
Glendo, WY
Meechum had taught Kyla the proper way to walk as a Marine. She was loaded down with two extra rifles on her back, but her primary weapon was out and primed for battle. Since they were walking into unknown territory, the woman warrior had given her a refresher as they left the cabin. A round was already in the chamber and the safety was off.
“Your finger is the safety, Dudette. Pay attention where you point the barrel and always keep your finger outside the trigger guard, like this.” Kyla was almost sick of being told and shown the safety tips, but Meechum said a civilian like her needed ten times the reminders a typical crayon-eating Marine might get.
After Meechum shouted warning about the two men in the trees, Kyla did as she’d been told. She aimed and fired.
The men shot a half-second later.
The AR kicked against her shoulder, and the crack-bang split her eardrums, but she’d had enough experience over the past week to hold the aim steady. An instant later, she lined up a second shot at her target. Without thinking about it, she squeezed the trigger.
“Duck!” one of the men yelled.
Meechum cried out in pain.
Kyla was already behind the truck, relative to the enemy, but she crouched down to give her friend a once-over. “You okay?”
Meechum was still on her feet, which was a good thing, but she hunched over as if the wind had been knocked out of her chest. “I’m fine. I leaned on the butt stock and I think it tore off my bandages it went in so hard.” She looked up, sweating bullets. “Don’t stop firing!”
Kyla dumped the two extra rifles, then scooted along next to the bed of the pickup until she was near the cab. She figured it would be safer to pop up there than toward the back.
The men shot at her multiple times, penetrating the metal of the bed with zings and clangs. Were they going to hit the gas tank? Self-preservation made her duck for a few seconds until the fury died down.
Her heart thumped against her ribs. Blood filled her temples and sloshed from one ear to the other, giving Kyla an intense focus. She didn’t fret about the ten extra pounds that had always bothered her in the old days. She didn’t concern herself with how out of shape she’d been the last few years. None of those things mattered in battle. All she could do in the face of fear was stand back up and fire her weapon, as she’d been instructed. She came up behind the cab, searching for targets.
She knew generally where the men were hunkered down. It was an area of saplings and small bushes—enough to obscure their position, but not hide them. Kyla had to stand on tiptoes to see over the far side of the truck bed, but the ground was flat, and she had the angle. She aimed at the black outfit of the one on the left. After an abbreviated exhale to steady her shaking body, she fired as fast as her finger could pull the trigger.
Thinking she was alone on the attack, Kyla squatted back down. Meechum wasn’t where she expected. Instead of sitting on the ground recovering, she was leaning around the rear bumper, firing like a mad woman.
“Don’t stop shooting!” Meechum yelled without breaking her stride. “You got one!”
“I did?” she said to herself.
Her body was reacting poorly to the encounter. Each breath was ragged, as if six heartbeats demanded air each time she inhaled. It left her lightheaded and shaky.
Again, she forced herself to stand and return fire. What would Carthager and the other Marines back on the aircraft carrier think about how far she’d come? It instilled a bit of pride in her, but she tried to temper herself. Those Marines wouldn’t be impressed if she got herself shot, so she tried to think like one of them.
Don’t stay in the same spot.
Kyla kept herself crouched low and moved toward the front of the truck. She wasn’t tall enough to fire over the hood, so she had to go all the way to the front bumper. When she arrived, it gave her a better view of the second man.
“Got ya!” she whispered.
The man saw her, too. He’d gotten his own rifle into the action, and it seemed like a huge black hole staring right at her.
She looked down the iron sights as Meechum had illustrated several times. Without overthinking it, she pulled the trigger again.
The guy’s simultaneous shot popped the front headlight.
Kyla’s knocked the man over.
“Great shooting!” Meechum yelled.
Kyla retreated behind the bumper to recover her wits. Even learning she’d hit the guy didn’t do much for her mushy insides. “I can’t believe I—” she started to say, until she looked over and found Meechum was gone.
“What the hell?” There was only one place she could be, so she risked a look over the truck.
Kyla walked through the light brush as she repeatedly fired her rifle toward the men’s position. Over the course of thirty feet, she
