60

Will

E verything in my chest seized at once.

The beam had stopped.

One second we were just shapes in the water. The next—we were seen.

The flashlight didn’t waver this time. It locked on and held. The silence stretched, sick and suffocating. The patrol hadn’t shouted yet, hadn’t fired, but they knew.

I felt it in every inch of my skin.

My feet froze mid-step. The current pushed past my thighs, cold and slow and suddenly bottomless. My arms flew toward Sparrow and Eszter, to shield, to grab, to do something.

Then the shouting started.

Russian. Sharp. Barked. Commanding.

“ СТОЙ !”

My body broke into motion as the sound triggered something primal in my brain.

Fight, flight, whatever came first.

I turned toward Farkas. His eyes were wide, jaw clenched, but he didn’t move.

Crack .

The first shot hit the water right next to me.

A geyser erupted, slapping my cheek with icy spray.

My heart punched against my ribs. My knees nearly buckled. I couldn’t hear anything but my pulse.

Crack .

Another round screamed past Thomas’s head. He ducked just in time, almost losing his footing as the current tugged at him. I saw him stumble, eyes blinking hard, like the world had gone sideways.

“Move!” I shouted.

They didn’t hear me.

A third flashlight appeared on the Hungarian side.

Another shout.

Crack-crack .

Now it was a barrage.

Sparrow screamed and pulled Eszter close. The girl didn’t cry. She didn’t even flinch. Her eyes were wide, her face pale, but she held on to Sparrow with white-knuckled fists.

Egret surged forward, pushing Thomas hard from behind.

The water was higher now. My coat pulled at me like it wanted to drown me itself.

“Get down!” I yelled, but there was no down, no cover, only cold and fear and gunfire.

Shadows shifted on the bank.

More lights.

More muzzle flashes.

I couldn’t tell how far we were from the other side, but we had to be close, maybe twenty feet.

Maybe less.

It felt like a thousand.

I reached out for Eszter, helping Sparrow drag her forward through the water. The girl was breathing hard, her feet kicking for purchase beneath her.

Another shot.

Closer this time.

I didn’t see where it splashed.

And then—Farkas turned.

He yanked away from my grip.

Away from the shore.

Toward the danger.

And I knew what was about to happen.

But I couldn’t stop it.

Another thunder crack.

Then everything slowed.