By the time I ride through the gate and onto the streets of the Village, my pulse is hammering like a war drum. Doubt claws at my throat, nearly choking me. If I’m wrong, I’ve caused mass panic for nothing.
But if I’m right—I’ll save everyone.
Sideburns rushes to my side. His team looms behind him, restless with energy to act. “I’ve finished securing the underground locker,” he fills me in. “Where do you want me next?”
“Get to Seventh Street. Clear everyone out. Now.”
“On it,” he barks, already turning to rally his team. He doesn’t question me. He hears the urgency. Instantly, he’s shouting orders, directing people.
Bachmans flood the cobbled streets. Doors slam. Engines roar. Children cling desperately to their parents, eyes wide and bewildered, clutching hastily grabbed toys and heirlooms. Front doors are left wide open, bright lights flooding their neatly swept front stoops.
Voices collide, panic rising in a chorus of fear.
Someone grabs my arm, tearing my gaze away from the horrible scene. “Is it another drill?” a blue-eyed woman asks me, hope trembling in her voice.
We’ve run many drills since the Morettis became ambitious.
“No,” I answer, voice clipped. “This is real. Go. Quickly.”
I catch sight of little Eloise, wide-eyed, pale as snow, coming down the sidewalk clutching her mother’s hand. “Mr. Renan,” she says—she’s the only one who insists on using my proper name. “Where are we going?”
I drop to a knee. Resting my hands on her shoulders, I hold her gaze. “We’re going somewhere safe. A little adventure. I need you to be brave and listen to your mum. Can you do that for me?”
She nods, lip trembling.
“Good girl. Let’s get you to the car.”
I guide them both through a gate, pointing them toward a waiting sedan. “Be brave, Eloise,” I say. “Listen to mum.”
“Okay.” She nods again, silent tears glimmering in her eyes, and slips into the back seat beside her mother.
As soon as she settles in, she screams. “Mommy. My bear!”
From where I stand, I can’t hear what her mother says as she consoles her daughter. It pains me, yet there’s too much at stake to go searching for one toy bear.
A young boy in cloud print sky-blue pajamas sleepily follows his father, a tall man with a worried face, who wears a shoe from a different pair on each foot. Dad struggles with the heavy stack of black security boxes he carries. "Almost there, Tyler,” he groans, a vein bulging in his neck. “Can you see the cars?”
The little boy stands where he stops, immobile. His mouth stretches as he lets out an exhausted yawn. “I’m tired, Da-da.”
“Keep going. Mama and Macy will be waiting for us.” Dad shoots his son a desperate look.
I run over, taking the cases from the father. “I’ve got these. You two get a move on.”
“Come here, baby.” He scoops the little boy up into his arms, shooting me a grateful smile, “Thanks, Reign. You’re a good guy,” before taking off into a run to a sedan with a waiting, open door. His wife peeks her head out, beckoning them with tears in her eyes and outstretched arms. “There you are! Come quickly, you two!”
Fuck. These are heavy. Or I’m old.
“Give those to me boss. I’ll take them to the truck.” A younger man grabs the stack, easily taking off in a jog.
I’m old.
Hunter comes swaggering through the gate, brown western boots stomping. A group of people trails behind him, their arms loaded with whatever they could grab. He grips the handle of a long black gun case in one hand. In his other hand, he holds a well-loved yellow bear.
He holds the plush up to the crowd. “Someone missing this?”
“Over there,” I say, pointing to the sedan with Eloise.
He throws me a wink. “Thanks.” He sidles over to the car.
