Page 22 of Revenge Saints (BloodHawks Duet #2)

W e move quietly through the streets, the only sound the occasional flap of wings as birds scavenge for their next meal. The sky is heavy, thick with clouds, casting everything in this eerie grey light that makes the town feel even more abandoned than it probably is.

Knox leads, focused and alert. He’s scanning for anything we can use: weapons, tools, parts for traps. But so far, the place looks picked clean. There’s no sign of life, though there used to be a community here.

He whistles softly and drops into a crouch, rifle angled down. We follow his lead.

Shit. Maybe I spoke too soon.

Dante veers right, taking the back, walking backward to cover us. Then we hear it: footsteps.

Dante takes off running. Knox and I are right behind him. The sound gets closer. Dante raises his gun. “Stop, or I’ll shoot.”

The noise halts. Knox steps forward slowly, eyes wide, then signals us to lower our weapons.

“We won’t hurt you,” he says. His voice is soft, softer than I’ve ever heard it. He pushes his rifle behind his back and raises his hands, and then a little girl steps into view, holding a slingshot.

My jaw drops. I glance at Dante. His face mirrors mine.

What the hell is a child doing here?

A man’s scream breaks the silence. He throws himself in front of her, kneeling, shielding her with his body.

“Please! Kill me, not her!” He yells, panic raw in his eyes.

We all freeze.

Then a rock lands near Knox’s foot.

“Fuck,” he mutters, stepping back.

A woman appears, wild-eyed and tense, dressed like something out of Mad Max , a slingshot trained on us.

Knox lifts his rifle just slightly. Her eyes narrow.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Knox says calmly, stepping forward.

Dante and I follow, lowering our guns but staying alert .

“Yes, you will,” the woman whispers, but I hear the fear behind it. It reminds me of Aspen.

“We’re not Hunters,” Dante says, taking a cautious step forward.

“Former soldiers,” Knox adds, pointing to the pack on his back. “Just looking for supplies.”

She peeks around him, just slightly.

The man slowly stands, keeping the child behind him. “We can’t trust anyone. Not anymore.”

They look exhausted. Filthy. But the kid, she’s clean. Cared for.

“I’m Max Whitloke. This is Dante Garrett. And Knox Archer.” I gesture to each of us.

No idea why I gave our full names. I don’t think I’ve said mine out loud in years.

The man nods. “Josh.”

He points to the woman. “Kaily.”

Then to the kid. “Pauly.”

My brows shoot up. She’s a he ?

“My wife and daughter,” he explains. “We named her Pauly in case we ever had to yell for her. Makes them think she’s a boy, and Hunters won’t give her the time of day.”

Fuck.

The kid’s maybe five or six. Hazel eyes, dark brown hair. Her mom’s darker. Dad’s got blond hair, same eyes as the girl.

“Have you been here long?” Dante asks.

Knox pulls his pack around, and the three of them move back, but Knox doesn’t get closer. Instead, he pulls out a few cans and a water bottle, places them on the ground, then kicks them forward gently.

They hesitate. Then Kaily gives us a small nod and picks them up.

“I’m sorry,” she says, with a shaken tone. “We’ve been on the run for so long.”

She kneels, opens the can, and the kid digs in fast, stuffing beans into her mouth like she hasn’t eaten in days.

Shit. I didn’t even think there were still kids alive.

“You all look tired,” Josh says, pointing to a small building nearby. “We have a place. Safer than this.”

It looks worse than anything around it. Which, yeah, smart. No one would think to search it.

We follow them in. Josh stops at the entrance and points down; a fishing line is stretched across the doorway, connected to a heavy log. One wrong step and you’re dead.

We step over and head up the broken stairs, copying their steps exactly.

At the door, Josh removes another trap, just a log leaning by the knob. Barely a deterrent. Placebo effect.

“Come in,” Kaily says.

The kid runs to a corner where I see a few stuffed animals, a broken doll, and some kids’ books.

Knox glances at me. This isn’t a place for a child.

We sit on the floor. Kaily brings fruit. We try to refuse, but she insists.

“How did,” Knox starts but stops, probably not wanting to sound rude, but we are all thinking it .

Josh chuckles.

“We didn’t plan it. Not after the world went to shit. We were in a community for a while after.”

He wraps an arm around Kaily. She leans into him.

“She couldn’t have kids,” he says softly.

He looks at Pauly, playing in the corner like the world hasn’t ended. And maybe, for her, it hasn’t. This is all she’s ever known.

“When she was born, some of the men in the community…” He trails off, fists clenching.

She leans into him, softly rubbing his arm.

So they ran.

Kaily’s arms are bruised. Her eyes are sunken, red, with deep purple shadows underneath.

Knox meets Dante’s eyes. Then mine.

“Maybe we can help each other,” Knox says, leaning back against the wall.

Josh and Kaily exchange a long look.

“We’re staying in a place right now. It would be safe for your family,” Knox says.

I nod. “It’s a farm. About a day’s walk from here. We can make it livable. Water. Power.”

Kaily covers her mouth and starts to sob. Josh wraps his arms around her, tight.

“What do you want in return?” he asks, and I see the protectiveness and fear in his eyes.

Knox holds his hands up. “Dude. We’re not here for your wife or kid. We’ve got our own girlfrien—”

He stops and rubs his face.

I laugh, and Dante grins.

Girlfriend.

The Reaper has a girlfriend .

Finally.

“It’s not safe right now,” Knox continues, trying to deviate the conversation, “not until we leave it. Our home was taken from us, and we plan to take it back. But we’re outnumbered and low on supplies.”

He keeps it vague. We can’t risk telling them too much. They seem genuine, but so did Bryn. So did Ethan.

Fucking Ethan.

“I can shoot and fight,” Josh starts, but Kaily stands quickly.

“No!” she snaps, eyes wide. Pauly runs to her, hugging her legs.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?” She is soft and curious. It’s been a decade since I heard a child’s voice. It feels like hope.

Hope that her generation can build something better. But to do that, we have to protect her.

“We don’t need you to fight,” Knox says. “We need to know if you’ve seen anything useful.”

Pauly looks at him. Her eyes curious, and points to his arms.

“He has drawings on his skin.”

She steps closer, but Kaily pulls her back.

Josh places a hand on her leg and gives her a gentle squeeze. She nods and lets Pauly approach.

Knox stiffens. He’s never been great with kids. She sits beside him, pulling at his sleeve .

“What do we say first?” Josh prompts.

She gasps and smacks her forehead like she forgot something important.

“May I see them?” she asks, eyes wide with wonder.

Knox smiles. “Of course.”

He extends his arm, and she gasps at the ink. Not the most kid-friendly artwork, but she’s mesmerized.

“They’re beautiful, Mom.”

Josh cuts through the moment. “There’s a small group of Hunters nearby. We passed them yesterday.”

“Oh, right!” Kaily says. “They had guns and,”

She stops, trying to recall the name.

“Grenades,” Josh finishes.

We all share a look. Exactly what we need.

“How many?” Dante stands, getting ready.

We should wait for nightfall, but we promised Ryker we’d be home tomorrow. And if we’re not, he might come looking. No way to warn him from here.

“Five or six,” Josh says. “I can help. Seriously.”

Knox rises and claps him on the shoulder. “We can handle it. You stay and protect your family.”

I pull my bag around, readying my gun.

“You don’t know where they are,” Josh says.

We pause.

“You can tell us,” Dante says, still heading for the door.

“I can’t explain it. It’s just… trees. I know how to get there, but I can’t describe it. ”

He turns to Kaily. “I have to help. So they help us.”

Knox stops, turns.

“This isn’t a trade. The farm is yours, no matter what. She deserves better. We can give her that.”

Kaily walks over suddenly and throws her arms around Knox.

He freezes.

She’s tall, maybe five-ten, but still small next to him. Her husband is taller, but Knox is built like a wall.

He exhales and slowly hugs her back.

“Thank you,” she whispers, tears shining.

“I’ll go,” Josh says. “You don’t leave this place.”

Kaily nods, grabs a bat, and stays close to her daughter.

We can’t leave them without protection.

Knox looks to Dante. “You’re still healing. Stay here. Max and I will handle it.”

Dante doesn’t argue.

Unless they’re military-trained, we’ve got this.

“And you take us close,” I tell Josh, “but stay back.”

He nods. “Yes, sir.”

That makes me chuckle. Knox grins.

We head out. Dante closes the door and keeps a weapon.

“No one’s getting past Dante,” I tell Josh as we step into the street.

He lets out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, with that guy’s size? I believe it.”

We’ve been walking for about an hour, maybe more. Hard to tell with the sun pinned up high and silence chewing at my nerves. I keep scanning the tree line, waiting for that gut-punch instinct to kick in. Josh seems legit, but hell, what does “legit” even look like anymore?

“So, that place you mentioned… for my family. Is it real?”

Josh doesn’t meet our eyes. He talks to the dirt, eyes flicking up only to watch the path ahead like it might betray him.

“It’s real,” I say, stepping closer. “Old farm. House is still standing. Needs work, windows, and cleanup, but it’s safe. Secluded.”

I touch his shoulder, trying to reassure him, and he flinches hard, like he thought I was about to swing. Fuck. I freeze for a beat before I speak again. “We’re not lying, man. We’ve got wind fans hooked to a battery. Enough to power lights, maybe a radio, that kind of thing.”

His eyes go wide. “Seriously?”

Knox huffs a low chuckle beside me. “Yeah. You’ll still have to hike to the well for water, though. We’re not miracle workers.”

Josh nods so fast it’s like his head might pop off. “I don’t care. Just the idea of my wife and kid sleeping under a roof again, with the lights on…”

He releases a deep breath, and something in my chest tightens.

“We never thought we’d have kids,” he murmurs. “Before the plague, doctors told us it wasn’t likely.”

“And then she got pregnant after,” Knox says quietly.

Josh nods. “We never would’ve chosen to bring a child into this mess. I was scared she wouldn’t survive the birth. But we were in a community back then. They had a nurse. Things just… worked.”

Fuck. I can’t even picture it. The fear. The helplessness. The hope .

Women, they’re made of something different. Stronger. Fiercer.

“Your wife’s a warrior,” Knox says, giving Josh a firm pat on the back. Josh swallows hard, his pride bleeding through the cracks.

A burst of laughter cuts through the air.

I don’t hesitate. I grab Josh and pull him behind a tree. “Stay down.”

He whispers, “It’s them.”

Peeking around the trunk, he points to a duffel on the ground. It’s zipped now, but if he’s right about what’s inside, we’re risking it.

Knox signals me, and we guide Josh to a spot deeper in the trees. Safe enough for now.

“If we don’t come back, you run.” I toss my bag down and draw my gun. Knife slides into my other hand.

Knox towers beside me, calm as ever. “Don’t be a fucking hero,” he tells Josh, eyes pinned to his.

Josh nods, swallowing his panic.

Time to move.

We crouch on a slope above the camp, half-covered by brush. I count five. Same as Josh said. All men. Loud, cocky. That kind of laughter that only comes when people think they’re safe.

They’re not.

One’s leaned back against a log, half asleep with a rifle beside him. Another’s stripping down a handgun, not even watching the tree line. The other three are grouped by a half-dead fire, passing a bottle, chewing on whatever the fuck is left in this world to chew on.

I flick my eyes at Knox. He gives one nod, and we split without a word. I circle left, keeping low, steps slow and exact. These boots have walked through shit, ash, and blood. They won’t make a sound now.

The sleeper’s mine.

I come up behind him and put my hand over his mouth before he can make a sound. My blade finds his throat. Warm blood seeps over my fingers, and I lower him slowly. He never twitches.

The one cleaning the gun hears something. Looks up.

Too late.

I charge him, knife low. He goes for the pistol, but I’m already on him, slamming the back of his head against the trunk behind him. Once. Twice. He drops. I finish it with the blade, fast and brutal.

One of the others stands at the fire.

Then I hear the softest thud. A body hitting the ground. Knox’s work.

The standing guy shifts to call out, but the words don’t come. He’s hit. Blade to the throat. He stumbles, gurgling.

The last one sees the blood and runs.

Of course he does.

I catch him before he hits the tree line, tackle him hard. He hits the ground with a grunt, fists flailing. My knife sinks into his ribs, and he gasps, panicked, wide-eyed. His mouth opens to scream, but I cover it .

“Don’t,” I whisper, breath hot against his ear. “Just fucking go quiet.”

He does.

I stay crouched over him for a second, watching the light drain from his eyes. My heart’s pounding, not from fear but from adrenaline. Rage. I wipe the blade on his shirt and push off him.

Knox appears through the trees, calm as hell, already digging through the bag in the middle. “Grenades, ammo, a couple of handguns. Good haul.”

I nod, breath still catching in my throat.

“We good?” I ask.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t look at me. “Let’s move.”

We don’t speak after that. Just grab what we need, check the perimeter, and disappear into the trees like ghosts.

We grab Josh and head back to town.

Time to go home.