Page 25 of The Last True Hero

The shot almost blew her back off her feet. She wasn't prepared, and staggered into the side of the building.

Stupid. Stupid...She knew better than that. She'd spent years filling old cans with holes. Funny how different it seemed in the heart of the action. Cans didn't shoot back, for one. Mia jacked the shotgun rounds out. Her hands fumbled as she hastily reloaded.

Don't look down.She still caught a glimpse of the female reiver she’d just shot. Mia stepped forward, ignoring the body, the fight taking shape in front of her again as her vision slowly returned.

Too late. A baseball bat swung toward her. Mia flinched backward. Pain exploded through her shoulder, and she lost the shotgun as she went down.

"Mia!" McClain's voice.

She scrambled to her feet. Move or die. Those were the options. The reiver came out of nowhere, swinging the baseball bat again. His head exploded right in front of her. The body jerked, knees caving out from under it.

Okay. Okay. Mia panted as she stared at him. Her shoulder ached, but she wasn't dead. Yet. A shadow moved in front of her. Another reiver. Mia didn't think this time. She slammed a palm up under the bastard's chin, snapping his head back. Her good hand. The second he went down, she turned and snatched at the shotgun, swinging around and jamming the butt of it into another reivers face. Something in her shoulder felt like a knife going in, and she knew she hadn't hit hard enough.

Swinging the butt back into her hands, she pumped the shotgun, her left hand moving weakly, and fit the butt of the shotgun to her shoulder this time, welding her cheek to the stock. Her lower arm felt numb, but she managed it. Then she pulled the trigger.

More blood. More... stuff.

Mia nearly threw up, her throat constricting on her.Move!She screamed at herself.

But the fight was dying down. Jenny put another round into the second reiver near Mia's feet, her face blank as though this were just another day. Thwaites stood behind the fire, directing men. And McClain stared at Mia across the camp, blood spattered up his arms and firelight reflecting back off his eyes. He met her gaze, then nodded.

Good work.

It was done. She and Jenny had taken the brunt of it as the reivers tried to flee from the onslaught. Cowards, one and all.

"Get the girls out," Jenny told her, limping around the camp. She pumped another round into a groaning reiver and he fell still.

"Are you hurt?" Mia demanded.

"Just a scratch," Jenny shot back. "Get moving."

She didn't quite believe her aunt, but there were other concerns right now. Sage.

Scrambling to her hands and knees, Mia peered over the edge of the hole. Dirty faces looked up and flinched away from her. Some of them were crying. One girl rocked, blood on her skirts and wrists. Genevieve Adams, she thought.

Then one of them gasped. "Mia!"

And a wave of hope spread from soft lips. Hands reached toward her. Desperate faces. Maura Adams... Jin Cho... Ellie Thwaites... Tara Macklemore... on and on, until a small cold fist formed in her chest. No Sage. There was no sign of her sister and it was hard to look at the women they'd rescued—those hopeful, relieved faces—and not feel some small scrap of despair, when she knew she should be relieved too.

"Is Sage here?" she demanded.

Ellie Thwaites shook her head. "No. Mia, I'm so sorry. They took her."

"Who?"

"Rykker. The one in charge." Ellie visibly swallowed. "There was a fight, and he and his men took a handful of the girls. They were planning on taking us all, but then Yanno and his crew rallied and they fled."

Every one of her worst fears came true. Disappointment lodged like a fist in her throat, and rage screamed inside her chest.

"Mia?" Ellie asked softly.

Sage wasn't the only one she'd vowed to rescue. Mia stuffed all her emotions into a little box deep inside. It was the same way she'd gotten through her parents’ funeral, and the long aftermath.

"We're here," Mia said, tossing the rope ladder the reivers had used into the pit. She couldn't think about Sage right now or she'd break. There were things to be done in the meantime. "Let's get you all out of here."