She grabs Capa’s hand and pulls him away. The first guy lunges, and it takes all my reflexes to knock the knife out of his hand. He lands a punch to my gut, knocking the air out of me. I counter it with one to his face. The scuffle lasts longer than I’d like. But he’s so much bigger than me so knocking him out isn’t easy.
The other men seem content just to watch. I count four of them all up standing around us with knives in their hands. They don’t seem ready to attack, probably because they don’t view us as a threat—only one man with a woman and a gangly kid.
As soon as I knock out the man I’m fighting, Audra screams.
“Ethan!”
She’s being dragged toward the bunker, and Capa is being repeatedly punched on the ground. I don’t even hesitate. I take two shots, one at the forehead of the man dragging Audra, the other in the leg of the man punching Capa. Both men fall down dead.
There’s a cry of outrage from the other men. They advance, but two quick shots and they’re on the ground. Before I canwonder why they’re not shooting at us, Audra grabs Capa, and we begin running for the exit together.
We’re almost at the door when a shot rings out. My heart skips at least five beats, and I watch in horror as Capa goes down. Audra goes down with him. She lets out a heartbroken cry.
“Capa,” she says, crying. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll help you.”
He probably can’t understand a word she’s saying. Blood is pooling onto the floor from his back, and he’s taking gasping breaths. I look away to see who shot at us and see three other men advancing toward us. The one in the middle has a gun in his hand.
He takes a shot at Audra or me; I’m not sure. But I’m faster and a better marksman. The bullet hits him right in the chest. The other men are calling for backup. They don’t seem to have guns, but they begin running straight at us.
“Audra, we need to go now,” I tell her.
It’s like she doesn’t even hear me. She’s sobbing softly.
“Audra,” Capa breathes before his eyes close, and he becomes still.
My heart breaks at the sight, but I can’t think about that now. We have to get out of here alive.
“Capa, Capa, wake up, please,” Audra cries.
I shake her shoulders.
“Listen to me! He’s gone. He gave his life to save us. You owe it to him to stand the fuck up and get out of here alive, you hear me?!” I ask her.
That seems to rouse her. She gets to her feet but almost immediately is sliced by a knife one of the men throws. It hits her in the arm. My eyes widen as I grab her with the other arm, open the door, and lead us out of there.
Thankfully we’d aimed for the right door, and it was the exit. I can’t imagine opening the door and entering a room filled withmore guards. With Audra’s hand still in mine, I run towards one of the cars parked outside. I break a window and unlock the car. Then I get a shell-shocked Audra in. I manage to hotwire the car. As soon as it starts, I drive like hell.
They chase us for a few miles, but I lose them in the end. Their hideout is far away from civilization, and Audra and I drive in silence for at least thirty minutes before seeing another human being. When I’m sure we’re close enough to the city, I stop the car and then turn to Audra.
She’d tied a piece of cloth around her wound a few miles back to stop the bleeding. Thankfully it’s not a big cut, but we still need to take care of it. She’s still so out of it.
“Audra,” I call.
She turns to me, her eyes shining with tears.
“Hey, hey, it’s going to be fine,” I tell her pulling her into my arms.
“I didn’t know that was going to happen. He was only trying to help us,” she says quietly, her voice low and sad.
“I know, baby. I know,” I say, rubbing her back soothingly.
“I didn’t know that was going to happen,” she says again.
She’s probably feeling guilty as hell right now. She and the kid had bonded. I feel horrible, so I can’t imagine how she feels. But right now, my priority is getting us both to safety.
“Audra, we have to ditch the car. There could be trackers in it. We’ve got to find somewhere to lay low for a while,” I tell her.
She nods, moving her hand a bit before wincing in pain.