Page 68 of Lash

"Ah. I see." I nod. "Well. I know how to shoot a pistol. I will do my best."

Scarlett pats my back. “All any of us can do."

Lorenzo puts his fingers to his lips and lets out a piercing whistle "We must go. My Sophia has been in Rafael's hands for too fucking long as it is. I will drive the lead. We stop for no one and nothing but to refuel as necessary."

Kane pats the tailgate of the nearest SUV. "Got that covered. We got jerry cans full'a fuel in each Rover as well food, water, and med kits." He juts his chin at Nicolae. "I assume those bags have the bang-bang goodies in them."

Lorenzo nods, sighing in relief. "Good. Very good. Yes, we have plenty of guns and ammunition. We are as prepared as we can be. Now, we get to the compound and figure out a plan that will hopefully get us all out alive."

It's a bouncing,jouncing, teeth-rattling ride through the jungle. I've long since lost track of what time it is; time distorts. We've always been here, in the jungle, on these hard bench seats, hot and sweaty and jarred by ruts and hillocks and thrown to either side as we swerve to avoid potholes that could swallow the compact cars so prevalent in my native Europe.

We stop after a few hours to stretch our legs and refuel. Scarlett pulls me after her off the trail and into the rainforest just out of eyesight of the small caravan. She shows me how to use her trench knife to dig a pit at the base of a tree, lean back against it with my pants and underwear around my ankles, andpee without splattering myself. She even has a small package of biodegradable wet wipes that get buried once we're done.

As we walk back, she hands me a pistol. "Pull the mag and put it back."

Understanding her intention of assessing my familiarity with the weapon, I eject the magazine and tap it back into place.

"Good. Put it away and draw it," she instructs.

I tuck it in my waistband at the small of my back. Pause, hands at my sides. Draw, assuming the basic triangle pose taught to me by Anton, the instructor at the gun range.

She nods again. “Good. How accurate are you?"

I shrug. "Okay. I can hit the target, but I am not an expert."

She smiles at me. "That's okay. No need to be an expert. What you need to know is that if you're gonna draw that gun and point it at someone, you gotta be ready to pull the trigger. And you can't hesitate. If you know you gotta shoot, then draw, aim, and fire. Don’t think, just do it."

I nod, a memory of being attacked in the alley in Zagreb flashing through my mind. "Lash—Nicolae, I mean—said the same thing. I…" I shake my head. "I didn't listen. I was in that alley by myself. And that man walked by. He saw me. He started walking toward me, and I was afraid. I could feel that he meant nothing good for me, but I…I didn't see if he had a weapon, not until it was too late. I didn't even draw my gun. I…it is embarrassing, but I lost it in the struggle. He got close, and then he had a knife, and I fought him. I remembered some things I was taught about defending myself from big men with knives." I shut my eyes, stopping to lean against the smooth bark of a tree. "I still don't know how, but I got the knife from him and I stabbed him and I stabbed him and I stabbed him, so many times I stabbed that man, and he kept—he wouldn't—he justwould notdie."

She rubs my shoulder blade. "A horrible way to get your first kill. Knife work is messy and intimate. And yes, it's very,veryhard to kill someone quickly with a knife. There are only a few places on the human body where you can cut or stab someone for an instant or nearly-instant kill. Human bodies are complicated. We can be very fragile and we can also take a shocking amount of damage and survive."

I let out a breath and shake my head. "I just want this to be over, Scarlett. I sell clothing. All the guns and the shooting and the killing, I…I never wanted any of it. That is my father's world, not mine. I did everything I could to live my own life, to be separate from my father and his stupid, awful business."

Scarlett pats me again. "I know. I wish we could get to the good stuff, too. But in shit like this, the only way out is through."

I push away from the tree, hearing the SUVs cough and bark and rattle to life. "Does it get easier? Killing people, I mean."

Scarlett shrugs. “Unfortunately, yes. You're never not afraid before a battle, though. But the first few kills? Youalwaysremember them. The rest, not as much. When you've spent as much time downrange as I have, you kinda block it out when you're not doing the job. Otherwise, it'll just…fuck you up. Probably a lot like cops, medics, and ER docs and nurses. You can't think about it when you're not doing it. You can't think about the shit you did, the shit you had to see." She moves behind me and puts her hands on my shoulders, affectionately and gently guiding me back to the road. "Hopefully you'll never have to know whether or not it gets easier. Hopefully, we'll get Inez back, and we'll all go live happily ever after in good ol' Las fuckin' Vegas."

I laugh. "I sense perhaps you are being sarcastic about Las Vegas."

She barks a laugh. "Yeah, just a little. I fuckin'hateVegas. It's hotter than Satan’s ball sack, there's no nature, and everyoneis fuckin' crazy, desperate, and stupid. And also, fuck casinos. Noisy, smoky, lightless, soulless hellholes of addiction and desperation. Fuck Las Vegas."

I laugh. "I see. But yet, despite feeling this way, you are going to move there with Solomon?"

She sighs. "Yes. Yes, I am. I love him, and that's where he has to be for now. I'm gonna take the brand and the oath and become a Broken Arrow. And hopefully, I won't have to leave the Club."

We reach the road and the caravan, piling into one of the Land Rovers—Solomon drives and Nico is in the front seat beside him, so we slide in behind them.

Into the jungle we go, sweating, bouncing, and avoiding thoughts of the future.

I am roused from a fitful,restless half-sleep when the caravan halts and the engines turn off. I blink awake, peering around—it's pitch-black outside beyond the windows, and for a moment or two, all is dead still and silent. After those moments of silence, the night creatures of the jungle come to life once more, croaking, whirring, chirping, hissing, and rustling.

The whole team circles up in the road in the yellow bath of the lead SUV’s headlights; flying insects flutter and swarm.

Solomon seems comfortable taking the lead, and the others seem content to let him. "We're two miles from the compound, according to Lorenzo."

Lorenzo shrugs. "As close as I can estimate, at least. Probably a little more, as it is better to be farther away than closer."