He wouldn’t die alone. Lulah would make sure of that.
She looked up at Amber and grimaced. Her heart hurting, she slowly sighed out. “I can’t leave him here like this. God help me, I just … I just can’t. There might be some way to help him.”
Amber grabbed her hand, then replied, His chances aren’t good … even if you got him to a hospital.
But Lulah was adamant. “Sometimes, you just have to do what you think’s best. I’m staying with him.”Tears began to roll down her cheeks. She looked up into the vixen’s big golden eyes. “Take my kids. Go! Get them away from here! Please!”
Amber thought this was foolish behavior and signed so. The odds were high that if Lulah stayed, she could end up hurt or killed, maybe not even intentionally, but dead was dead.
Lula was undeterred. There was a finality in her voice and a glassy, distant look of resignation in her eyes. “Just take care of my kids! Keep them safe! Find Tiger! He’ll know what to do with them!”
Amber wanted to argue some more, try to talk some sense into the woman, but a heavy round of firing erupted again outside, and stray shots started hitting the house.
“Go!” Lulah pointed at the garage door. “Take Brittain and Blake!” There was a desperation in her voice now, the firing all around the house intensifying. “Please! Before it’s too late!”
Amber looked to the floor. She had the same sick feeling in her gut she had just a few days ago when she’d left Jocko behind. She wondered if she was cursed to forever leave behind those she grew to love and care for, always having to stay a step ahead of the hunters, forever leaving a trail of heartache and hurt behind her.
She looked back up into Lulah’s eyes and nodded sadly. She’d do what had to be done. It would rip her insides apart, but she’d do it. She leaned forward to place a soft kiss on the other woman’s forehead. Then, Westchester at the ready, she disappeared into the smoke like a phantom into the mist.
***
“Get down!” Eight cried out, raising his rifle to fire at the yard behind them. He squeezed off a burst of fire before he was hit in the chest by a pulse round. The Poly-R-Mor deflected the worst of the blast, but the heat was still searing enough to flash the merc’s face. The mask he wore was flame-retardant, but the eye areas were vulnerable. The man cried out in agony like a wounded bull as he dropped his rifle and began clawing out his eyes.
Seven was down on his belly and firing even before he saw the gunmen behind them. They were behind a faux wood fence that separated Lulah’s backyard from her neighbor on the next street over. Three, maybe four shooters! As one stuck his head over the fence to fire, he noted that the perp was wearing some kind of headdress. Probably a gangbanger. A hired gun, no doubt.
He lit up the fence where the man’s body would be, splintering it. He heard the man scream briefly in pain, heard his comrade curse vehemently.
What the fuck did they think? That cheap-ass composite material was bullet-proof?
One down.
To his right, Eight was down on his knees, still clawing at his face. It was amazing how a catastrophic change in your situation could turn a grizzled soldier into a blubbering fool. Take something precious from a man, and he forgets his training, all the years of experience, the danger surrounding him. With pulse rounds and rail fire whizzing and whining all around him, all Eight wanted right now was his eyes back.
“Get down, damnit!” Seven belly-crawled over to him and jerked him down by the front of his BDU blouse, firing wildly toward the fence as he did. He got the wounded man down just in time, for an incendiary rocket exploded against the wall above them. Heat and flame expanded through the air, sucking the oxygen out of it. The side of the house, covered with a sticky flammable fluid, ignited and began to burn.
Goddamn! The motherfuckers have a rocketgun! Whoever they were, they were well-financed and well-equipped. These weren’t your average gangbangers.
“Shit! We gotta go!” he told Eight. “We can’t stay here!” Inside, he heard the children cry out again. Fuck! Nothing was ever easy!
“Keep your head dow—” His words hung in his throat. Eight had caught one in the neck, almost separating his head from his body. He’d died without uttering a word.
Things had just gotten easier. Funny how that worked sometimes.
Ok, he couldn’t stay here. He was outgunned and outnumbered. It would only be a few more seconds until he joined Eight. Looking around, he saw the back door to Lulah’s garage. It would be his best chance not only for cover but to get to the crying kid.
Rising to his knees, he opened fire, running for the door. Throwing his whole body into it, he crashed through the door and rolled onto the magnicrete floor of the garage just as a second rocket exploded against the wall outside. He did a combat roll and came up with his rifle ready … and came face-to-face with the Vixen!
***
Ollie was crouched behind the neighbor’s fence with Papa Doo and another Demon Posse hired gun when Seven unleashed on them. He saw the gangbanger literally explode as Seven’s barrage ripped through the fence and into him. He’d never seen a man die violently like that. One moment he was there,
