Page 28 of Redemption (Devil Dogs of the Apocalypse #4)

Jax

Earlier...

Ooooh, fuck.

Holy shit.

What in the hell?

Stop... fucking... rocking...

It feels like I’m back on a deployment, stuck on a ship during a storm, the rise and fall of the waves against the hull pitching my body back and forth against my will.

Nausea is a bitch to deal with at sea. Once it has you in its grip, you’re done until you set both your feet back on dry land, and even then it’s sketchy.

Bile creeps up the back of my throat as my body is rocked forcefully to one side and then the other.

If it doesn’t stop soon, I’m gonna fucking throw up.

My head lolls to the side, causing my cheek to rub against the rough, carpeted surface. Well, that certainly confirms this isn’t the berthing of a ship; there aren’t any carpeted floors there. Fuck... maybe I’m drunk? The sharp pounding in my head certainly seems to agree with the possibility.

But wasn’t I? ... Wasn’t I in bed? No. I was with Aly... Waiting for Aly. She was in the bathroom.

I try to open my eyes, but it’s like they’re glued shut. My arms and legs seem to be in working order, though.

Well... somewhat .

My fingers and toes move when prompted, but they feel numb... constricted. What the fuck is going on?

Slowly, my strength begins to return, but along with the subtle twitches and muscle spasms come vague, unfamiliar voices.

“Hey, guys, he’s starting to wake up.” I feel pressure on my leg as someone close by moves, the sound of a body above me shuffling. “Think we should set him up with another dose before we get there?”

Another dose? Of what?!

“Tough fucking bastard, isn’t he?” one of them says, but it’s the low, familiar chuckle that has me steeling my senses.

My thoughts slam back into my head like a battering ram.

The steps outside the Governor’s Palace.

The drone. The man standing over me with a gun.

I thought I was shot. Dead, even. But...

there was no blood. Not even really any pain now, apart from the splitting headache currently attacking my skull.

“The pack is down by your feet. Tranquilizer kit’s inside. Go ahead and set him up with another. Last thing we need is to have him wake up and stir up some shit during transport.”

Forcing my eyes to remain closed, I keep my breathing steady and listen, focusing on getting as much intel as I can. If I need to fight back, I need to know what I’m up against, and I can’t do that and plan accordingly if I give away that I’m almost fully awake.

According to their conversation, there are at least two of them in the vehicle.

One back here with me and another in the front.

While the guy closest to me is focused elsewhere, I start to wiggle my fingers and toes back to the land of the living.

Feeling starts to creep up my arms and legs as pins and needles attack my nerves.

I grind my jaw at the sensation, holding in the pain until I need to let it out.

My recuperation is agonizingly slow, but, thankfully, the inability of my captors to decide on a rational decision as to whether or not the stirring asshole at their feet should get another dose of drugs gives me just enough time to override the sedative in my veins.

“You sure we should do that? We already shot him with three, and you know the boss ain’t gonna like it if we kill a potential candidate,” a new voice chimes in from the front.

“Honestly, I’m surprised he’s not beyond twitching and drooling in his own puddle of piss at this point. Fucking impressive, if you ask me.”

Shit... Ok.... Three assholes.

“Hits each person differently. Might be why he woke up so soon. Big-ass motherfucker like him could probably take two more doses, to be honest. He’ll be fine. Go ahead and stick him.”

I take a chance and open the eye that’s closest to the floor, squinting just enough to see that both of my hands are tied together by zip ties and tucked in front of me under a bench seat commonly found in SUVs or vans.

Well, it’s better than being out to sea.

And at least we’re still on the way to wherever we’re going.

I’m not sure if Hawk, Cole, or Aly are in here with me, but there’s only one way to find out.

Luckily, my hands are still concealed underneath the seat and hidden by the rest of my body, which gives me the perfect opportunity to test out my dexterity.

I pull taut, making a fist a few times to get my blood pumping better.

The zip ties don’t budge, but, second after second, I feel stronger, more like myself.

I try to look around as much as I can through the gaps, but I don’t see or hear any sign of the others.

Which means they must either already be at the destination, these guys left them behind—unlikely, unless they killed them.

.. Better fucking not have—or they’re in other vehicles still on the road with us.

The guy in the backseat with me slumps forward, his elbows dropping to his knees as he searches for the sedative pack, leaving his guard wide fucking open and in the perfect position for me.

Regardless of my steady state of grogginess, I know I can’t just sit here like a wart on a toad’s ass—especially when he just made it so fucking easy—so I might as well take care of one of the three possibilities right now.

If the others are in some sort of caravan with this vehicle, I’m not about to let these assholes take us any further than riiiiight. .. here .

I lift my boot-clad foot and kick Mr. Backseat square in his jaw, knocking the side of his head into the window with a heavy thud. His eyes roll back on impact, and I smile victoriously as he slumps in his seat.

“What the fuck?!”

The sudden movement jars the two idiots up front, causing the guy in the passenger seat to spin around to try to subdue me through the gap in the seats, but he’s going to have to do better than that.

They might have bound my hands together, but these halfwits neglected to tie them behind my back.

The man in the passenger seat gets a rude reminder of that little tidbit of information as my hands go right to his face, my thumbs diving directly into his eye sockets and bursting the fleshy orbs almost instantly.

His wails fill the SUV as he convulses in pain.

The sound is music to my ears as I turn to the last guy.

By some stroke of luck, I don’t need to do anything as the newly blinded guy flails his legs in the tight space, inadvertently connecting his boots with the driver’s face over and over again, and knocking him out for me.

The driver slumps unconsciously over the wheel, causing the vehicle to turn suddenly.

Completely oblivious to the change in trajectory, the passenger continues to scream at the top of his lungs, cradling his now empty eye sockets as he turns his thrashing legs to his other side.

I take the opening and reach for the wheel, attempting to course correct.

But before I’m able to even touch the steering column, the road vanishes, replaced with the rocky, uneven terrain of the shoulder, and then the hard reality of a giant tree as we crash right into it, causing the world around me to go dark once again.

∞∞∞

Oh... fucking hell...

With a heaving turn, I roll my body onto my chest, thoroughly fucked up and face down on the ground... again . The wet grass dampens my clothes, but I hardly register the cooling sensation. The intense pain spanning the entirety of my back and head, however? Unmistakable and unyielding.

I tilt my head to the side, groaning and wincing through the agony of the slight movement.

Billowing smoke rises from the wreckage of my abduction vehicle, crumpled in a heap at least a couple dozen feet away from where I’m sprawled out like a starfish, the windshield completely shattered by my abrupt airborne exit.

Fuck me... That... is definitely... gonna hurt in the morning.

It also doesn’t help when I try to make my left arm move and it doesn’t cooperate. At all. In fact, considering the radiating pain and coinciding numbness in my fingers, I’m almost positive my shoulder’s dislocated. Fucking perfect.

With a grunt, I place my good arm below my chest and push, forcing myself to get up. I need to get out of here, and I need to find the others. I’m unsteady as I get my feet under me, swaying like I was drunk and not out here auditioning for the latest Jackass movie, but at least I’m standing.

For now.

Nausea creeps back in as dizziness takes hold. The forest around me sways as my vision goes in and out of focus, my poor eyesight not helping my evolving migraine in the least.

Fucking hell.... Probably concussed... Just add it to the list of ailments at this point.

I search through the trees, up to the road and beyond, but all I see are broken-down vehicles lining the pavement and, unfortunately, no signs of Aly, Cole, or Hawk.

If there were other vehicles driving alongside mine, surely, they would have stopped and checked on those in the accident, right?

They would have seen us go off the road.

I can’t imagine they’d just leave them there.

A sickening thought creeps down my spine.

If they were desperate enough, they might have simply stuck to their directive and continued on to their destination, not wanting to interrupt transport and provide a vulnerability for someone like me to expose.

If that’s the case, they’d probably leave these guys for dead or for others to find and assist later on.

Shit.

I gently lift my left hand and squint ... hard ... forcing my eyesight to clear as I orient myself with the help of my watch’s compass. My vision is barely there, but I’m just able to make out the arrow indicating North to the left, which means to the right—the way we were headed—is South.

The same direction as that Phoenix Rising encampment.

Is that where these guys were from?

That one guy who tried to get us to stop was definitely sketchy, but could he be the type to pull something like this?

Villains can come in every shape and size imaginable, so I guess anything’s possible.

Even while wearing penny loafers. Actually, that makes sense.

Only someone purely evil would be caught wearing business casual during an apocalyptic event.

If it were up to Aly, I’m almost positive he’d be public enemy number one in her book.

Needing to find more answers, I trudge back to the vehicle, swaying and stomping the entire way. My knees almost buckle a few times as pain and exhaustion try to overtake me but I make it there.

The van is absolutely fucked and, upon inspection, I don’t believe I need to worry about the three I left in there. Even though they were wearing seatbelts and managed to stay in their seats during the crash, they’re all unconscious.

I walk around the side, searching for any clue that might be useful, and find one the moment my gaze meets the sliding door—the sight of the fiery emblem painted on the side confirming my suspicions.

Since I don’t see Aly and the guys or any other transport vehicle, they must have taken them there, to Phoenix Rising.

That guy... What was his name? David? He seemed really intent on getting us to stay, not killing us.

Especially when, not even a week ago, he said they needed people like us to join their community.

Which means they’ve probably been taken into custody and now makes Phoenix Rising my top priority destination.

I turn with unsteady steps and a desperate need for painkillers to head south, but—

“Hold it right there!” A man calls out, aiming a gun—a real one from the looks of it—right at me. His friends do the same.

Now, I must really be fucked up if I missed these assholes sneaking up on me. Where the fuck did they come from?

I hold my one hand up in a surrendering gesture, needing some time to count the number of assholes that are about to get involuntary facial reconstruction.

One. Two. Three... Eleven. Eleven assholes.

Shit. With stealth, diversions, and an arsenal of weapons, I could probably handle them, but I’ve got nothing.

Despite the fact that my wrists are no longer confined—the zip ties having been ripped apart at some point during the crash—my shoulder’s still fucked.

“On your fucking knees!” the first guy yells out, stomping closer to me, the gun still aimed at my head.

Fuck... Think. Think. Think.

Do I engage with them and risk potentially dying?

Or do I comply and let them take me back to Phoenix Rising?

If they have Aly and the guys, that’s where they’ll be.

And, if I’m being completely honest with myself, I’m not feeling the greatest and am in no shape to take on fucking eleven guys—unless that’s my double vision acting up.

.. Fuck my head hurts —to then get there on my own.

Especially not when that’s where I’ll be headed anyways.

Two birds, one stone.

Decision made, I slowly drop to my knees and raise my one hand to rest behind my head, the other remaining cradled against my chest. The leader of the group cautiously closes the distance between us, analyzing every little micromovement and twitch my body provides.

The others stalk closer as well, forming a tight circle around me.

I go to rise up to my feet—so they don’t drag me to their vehicles or whatnot and end up further hurting my back, my shoulder, or anything else the car crash already jacked up—but before I’m even able to lift my boot back onto the ground, my face meets the business end of one of their guns.

White-hot pain radiates from my cheek before I’m hit the same way on the other side, the blow whipping my head in the opposite direction.

My arm drops to join the other in front of me as warmth trickles down my face, but I’m not able to comprehend the red droplets falling onto my fingertips.

Not when a final hit to the back of my skull forces my eyes to close for the third time.