Page 42 of The Outsider
My stomach twisted. “What about Claire?”
She gave me a hard look. “If we don’t take out the snipers, they won’t make it.”
She was right.Focus.I nodded and she took off running across the road to look for the other sniper.
I stayed low to the forest floor, same as on a hunt, listening carefully. A shot rang out, somewhere to the right, deeper in the brush—not quite in the same spot as the first shots. He was moving after each shot, then, not holed up in some tree. Smarter than I’d hoped.
Even as more shots sounded from the direction of Claire and Asha, I tuned out all but the sounds that meant life: scuffling, rustling, breathing. I listened hard, waiting for him to reveal his position.
The sound of another shot led me right to him. Keeping my distance, I ducked behind a shrub to stay hidden. A short, skinny guy with an eye patch was reloading an rusty-looking hunting rifle. No wonder his shots weren’t that accurate; that thing could’ve belonged to my great grandfather. They obviously saved their decent weapons for higher-ranking gangsters.
I raised my rifle and fired. The bullet burrowed into his brain, and he fell, dead before he ever knew I was there. I turned back to the road.
A sharp scream chilled my blood.Claire.I started running.
When I made it to the road, Claire and Asha were still on the broken bridge. They’d managed to pull the bike and my bag up onto the ledge—thank Christ. But the last gangster was dragging Asha, while Claire desperately tried to pull her back.
“You’re coming with me,” the gangster spat in Asha’s face. “You’ll face Cade.”
Asha clawed at his hands, trying to break free. Claire pulled back harder, digging her heels in. In desperation, the guy turned and punched her, knocking her down.
Seeing her fall twisted something inside me. I saw red, and my brain blocked out everything else. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on his chest, beating the ever-loving shit out of him with my bare hands. I didn’t even remember how I got there.
“John,” Claire said, and I suddenly felt her hand on my shoulder. “Stop. It’s alright. Stop, darling.”
I realized I was panting, and my hands were slick with blood. The gangster was no longer recognizable. His head was a purple, bloody mass of tissue and teeth. My knuckles burned; I’d split them on his face.
“Damn it,” I muttered, blinking fast. I let Claire help me off him, settling on the ground to catch my breath before pulling her into my arms.
“You okay?” I murmured urgently. “Let me see your face.”
“I think I’m fine,” she replied shakily. “Don’t worry.”
I gently tilted her head to the side, inspecting her jaw. A purple bruise was already forming, but it didn’t look any worse than that. I wanted to hold and comfort her, but we had to get out of here. Kimmy was a few feet away, checking Asha for injury. The road rash I’d gotten earlier burned like hell, but I’d take care of it once we were safe.
We gathered our stuff and took off as fast as we could, following the river until we found another bridge that was mostly intact. We rode for a couple more hours, mostly in silence, until I felt safe stopping for the night. My poor back was killing me by then.
Claire and Asha set up camp while Kimmy tsked over my road rash.
“You could’ve said something earlier,” she scolded. I winced as she cleaned the raw flesh, picking bits of gravel out. “No need to be such a hero.”
I spotted Claire watching us with concern. Her bruise had darkened, marking her beautiful face with violence, and I hated it. It’d been a rough day for everyone, and I wanted to make her smile.
So, I shrugged. “What can I say? I was trying to impress my girlfriend, and I thought that would do it.”
Claire’s responding laugh made me feel a little better. She swapped places with Kimmy, who went to help Asha set up the tent. I sighed and shut my eyes as she spread ointment across my back, soothing the burn. Her touch was what I needed at the end of this fucking awful day.
“You scared me,” I said quietly as she massaged in gentle circles. “They could’ve stolen you away in half a second back in Little River.”
She let out a long breath. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner.”
“Not your fault. There wasn’t a slave market there the last time we went.”
There was a stunned pause. “The platform with the women…that was a slave market?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “They’re not uncommon in some of the gang-owned settlements. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have taken you.”
“Is there a lot of slavery in the Wasteland?” Claire asked, and I could tell she was trying to keep her voice level.
