Page 48 of Breaking Danger (Ghost Ops #3)

The Lynx smashed its way downhill, rolling over and over.

The harness kept her in place but her head beat hard against the window as the vehicle landed again and again on the passenger side, then continued its roll.

It was like being in the spin cycle of a washing machine, almost without gravity, completely out of control.

A particularly vicious landing against something hard almost cracked her door open.

She felt a sharp pain in her wrist and cried out.

It seemed to last forever but suddenly they stopped, crashing up against a huge tree. Sophie banged her head against the window again and everything went black…

Noise. Shaking. Something was shaking her, but from a distance, as if on a different far-away planet. And screaming.

They were upside down and she was dangling heavily from the harness. Her head was spinning and her wrist hurt.

“Sophie!” Jon shook her again and she realized he’d been shaking her and shouting for the past few minutes. “Talk to me, dammit! Are you okay?”

Yes. I think. But the words wouldn’t leave her mouth.

She turned her head to see Jon draw a big black knife and before she had time to wonder what he was doing, he cut himself out of the harness, landing on the roof of the vehicle.

An instant later, he was at the passenger door, trying to wrench it open, but it had buckled.

He ran around the other side, cut her harness from the driver’s side and pulled her out.

“Sophie! Can you hear me?”

She licked dry, parched lips. She hurt all over, particularly her head and her wrist. “Yes.” The word came out a dry croak. She coughed and immediately a canteen was at her mouth.

“Drink,” Jon ordered.

She did. The water went down like a dream. “Thanks.”

“Listen, honey. I have to know if you have any injuries. Are you bleeding anywhere?”

She shook her head.

“Anything hurt?”

She nodded, pointed to her head, held up her wrist. As if from far away she noticed it was oddly shaped, like someone had pitched a tent under her skin, which was rapidly turning a dark blue.

“Fuck. Wrist broken.” He shined a light in her eyes, holding her chin so she couldn’t look away and avoid the painful light. “And mild concussion.” There followed a string of words in several languages which couldn’t have been nice words.

So she was concussed. That was why she was seeing double and couldn’t seem to coordinate her movements. And a broken wrist. It didn’t hurt, adrenaline was masking the pain.

“You fuckheads!” he screamed. Was he talking to her?

But there was only one of her. Pain and awareness crept in, in equal measure.

As her wrist began throbbing she took stock of the situation.

Jon was shouting into his wrist comms unit.

“You forgot to switch off the mini-EDs you fucks! What the fuck were you thinking? You fucking nearly killed Sophie!”

His distress was visible, certainly perceptible to her. Without thinking, she placed her hand over his. He was trembling, sweating, eyes so wide the whites were clear all around the pupils. He was hurting, he radiated pain and anxiety.

She clasped his hand more strongly, feeling heat rise, feeling his emotions rise to the surface then calm down. Feeling his distress dissipate like the fog curling up and disappearing under the force of the morning sun.

“Yeah,” he said suddenly, voice calmer. He never took his ice blue gaze from hers as he talked.

“You’ll have the location via the transponder.

We probably slid 100 meters. You’ll need the hovercar.

Bring medical supplies. Sophie has a concussion and a broken wrist. Bring pain meds too.

No, I’m fine. Yes, the case is intact, I checked. Roger, we’ll see you in fifteen.”

He closed the connection then held her tightly, eyes closed. “I nearly lost it,” he said, sounding surprised. “Fuckheads didn’t switch off all our protection devices. Whoever is responsible is going to be very very sorry when I get back.”

Tendrils of distress colored his emotions.

Sophie stood on tiptoe and lay her cheek against his. Heat, and solace. It was pure instinct. Jon was hurting, she had to help, because she loved him. It was as simple as that.

“I’m not hurt,” she murmured. “The wrist will heal. Considering what’s happening in the world, a broken wrist is nothing.

Please don’t be angry at the person who forgot to switch the system off.

He or she is probably overwhelmed and would never have endangered us on purpose.

” She held him tightly as the trembling died down, until finally his head dropped so he could rest his forehead against hers.

Her wrist was throbbing with pain but it was nothing.

Not when she could feel that Jon was okay again.

“If anything had happened to you…” he murmured.

“It didn’t. I’m fine, we’re both fine. We’ll be—” Home .

She wanted to say home, but that was crazy.

How could home be a place she’d never seen?

“We’ll be there soon. We’ll rest, relax, grab a bite.

Start working. Produce the vaccine, save as many people as we can.

Look.” She stepped slightly back from Jon, turned him around, watched him take in the view.

It was magnificent. They were halfway up the mountain; the green valley floor was spread out before them, with checkerboard orchards and ranches and small towns in the distance.

A section was covered with almonds in full bloom like clouds with trunks.

After the dark night the colors seemed almost supernaturally bright, life blossoming before their eyes.

The sun finally topped the mountain, brilliant buttery light spilling out over the valley. It was so intense Sophie had to shade her eyes.

“Wow,” she whispered, glancing up at him then back at the landscape.

Jon gave a half smile. “Wait until you see it in the fall. Just beautiful.”

“It’s beautiful now. Stunning.” And it was. The shafts of light grew denser, picking out details which must have been miles and miles away. The land glowed in the sunlight, pierced by the vegetation. If you’d had to pick an illustration of the Garden of Eden for Sunday school you’d look no further.

Her new home. Here. Her new mate. By her side.

Her head hurt and her wrist ached and every muscle was sore but at the same time she felt suffused by something dangerous—hope.

For a second, she could see the future. The virus, stopped.

As much of humanity as possible, saved. All the survivors pulling together to create a new future for the children to come, including Catherine and Mac’s child.

No room for greed and selfishness, everyone would have to pull together to recreate everything that had been lost. She’d see this beauty every day, see it grow even more lush as she worked side by side with Jon to create a new world.

From up here, the damage seemed much less, somehow.

Not trivial, but redeemable. Most of the fires had burned out.

Three small towns were visible, the closest ones looking as if Godzilla had walked over them.

But California was resilient. Earthquakes and fires and floods, they never stopped the rebuilding, over and over again.

They’d do it.

“I feel hopeful,” she said, almost to herself.

Jon scratched his chin, rasping against golden stubble. “You know, that’s exactly the kind of thing that would have made me really mad before. Hope is for chumps, that’s what I thought. Only strength keeps you alive. But I was wrong. You made me see that. Hope keeps us alive. So?—”

A wild snarl, inhuman and violent, and something heavy and unstoppable crashed into her.

Suddenly the air was full of wild cries, animal howls and for a second she thought they’d been attacked by bears.

She’d been thrown onto her back and she was stunned breathless when a terrifying face filled her vision.

Wild eyes, a blood-stained howling mouth with broken teeth, a bib of blood down the front.

Not a bear. An infected.

She was so terrified she couldn’t scream.

The bloody face, with deep gouges in its cheeks, snapped its jaws a couple of times, so close she could hear the horrible clattering.

In a panic of self defense, Sophie shoved hard at the shoulder with her good hand, taking the infected by surprise.

It rolled away, then rolled right back, a second from landing back on top of her before she had a chance to get up with only one hand.

Then the face disappeared, as if a strong wind had blown it away.

It all happened in an instant. She tried to scramble up but her legs wouldn’t hold her and she fell. Before she could hit the ground a strong hand caught her, swung her around him. Jon killed an infected that had been crouching, ready to leap.

That face disappeared, too, the head simply dissipating in a cloud of pink mist.

“Sophie!” Jon held her with one arm, the other holding his gun up as he looked around them. There were four bodies on the ground. She hadn’t even realized they’d been attacked by several infected until she saw them lying bonelessly, red spattering the ground. “God! Are you okay?”

Was she okay?

Sophie patted herself down fast, checking herself.

She’d been so overwhelmed she hadn’t even heard the shot that killed her attacker.

She could easily have been bitten without realizing it.

But she was intact. There wasn’t even any blood on her.

Somehow Jon had shot in such a way that there’d been no spatter on her.