Page 31

Close Call

T he first couple of hours are uneventful.

We are on a stretch of road that used to be a motorway, with cars, buses, and trucks abandoned everywhere.

Their insides burnt out or covered in spray paint.

Dust covered land stretches as far as the eye can see on each side, and the only noise is the sound of our bikes.

We pass a shell of a fuel station, among other destroyed buildings.

The whole drive I see my men looking at me every now and again, only for them to smile when I notice.

I’m debating stopping for a break, as we have to slow down to manoeuvre between the cars when I spot something on the road ahead of us.

A bridge over the old road, with a darkened pass underneath.

The barriers that used to be on either side of the bridge are crumbling with the stone falling to the road below.

One side of the bridge is collapsed, with it laying on the road in rubble.

The sun doesn’t penetrate its shadowed interior and my gut clenches.

Slowing down, I squint into the awaiting darkness.

Pulling behind an old sports car, I wait for the others while not taking my eyes off it.

My instincts are screaming at me, and they are never wrong.

We could go around but it would take us an extra day, an extra day of us being hunted by Berserkers in the Wastes.

Plus, if I’m late back, I have no doubt that Dray will storm to The Worshippers and slaughter them all to find me.

“What’s up, babe?” Drax asks as he pulls next to me. He has a crossbow strapped to his leg and crisscrossing blades on his chest. His green eyes peer at me with caring as he waits patiently. I can feel the others behind me, waiting for my lead.

“There’s something or someone in there,” I say, looking back to the pass.

Drax blinks at me then looks to the darkened stretch of road.

“How do you know?” Maxen calls at a low volume.

“I just do.” Stroking my blade attached to my left leg, I debate our options .

“So, what are we doing?” Drax asks again, his eyes still peering into the darkness. Even now, my heart clenches at their trust. I shake away the warm feeling and gesture at his crossbow.

“I know you hit that guy the other day, but are you any good with that?”

He grins at me blindingly.

“Babe, I’m good with my hands, don’t worry.”

I snort and turn back to the road. Straightening my back, I grab one of the swords crossing my back. It just so happens to be the one Dray gave me.

“Get ready to fight. If it's feral dogs, we are better trying to outride them but keep them off you if you can. Their bites carry infection. If it's cannibals, don’t get surrounded, they work together to bring a person down and they will eat you then and there. Cover each other’s back and let’s get this shit done. You ready?”

Drax nods while the others mutter agreements.

No one questions me going first and the warm feeling starts again.

Fucking feelings. It was so much easier when I pushed all that behind the wall.

Cracking my neck, I hold my sword in one hand with it resting loosely on the handle, while my other grips tightly to the gas.

“Shout if you get overwhelmed.”

“Wait, what if it’s Berserkers?” Thorn asks softly.

“Then you fight like the devil it’s self is trying to get you and pray it’s enough.

” I don’t think about what will happen if we lose, I can’t or I’ll be tempted to turn them around.

Not for me. I can handle what they throw at me, but I couldn’t stand them hurting my men.

Somewhere over the last twenty-four hours, my priorities have shifted from staying alive to keeping the parts of my scattered heart around me alive.

Let’s hope they are as good of fighters as I think.

Revving the bike, I slowly crawl towards the pass. Just when I think I might have been wrong, an arrow whizzes through the air, grazing my cheek. Pain explodes in my face but I use to it sharpen my senses. Ignoring the blood trickling, I shout to Drax.

“On the bridge above, two men!” I don’t wait for him to answer. I kick off my bike and draw my other sword. Crouching, I wait for the shadows moving in the pass.

I hear a shout and then a cry of pain before a man tumbles down from the bridge and splatters before me on the asphalt, a bolt through his left eye.

Another scream soon echoes. It’s silent for a moment before a war cry sounds and men charge from the darkness, their weapons gleaming in the light.

Their mouths open with their battle cry and death gleaming in their eyes.

Their dirty odour hits me as my focus narrows on the approaching gang.

At least fifteen men, all armed, all clearly know how to use their weapons.

Gripping both swords tightly, I swing them in an arc. Grinning as I wait.

My sword clashes with the first man, blocking the mace being swung towards my head.

I grin from where our faces are inches apart and head-butt him.

He stumbles back with a cry, and I don’t waste any time slitting his throat, twirling with the movement to meet the swing of another man.

On and on, I swing and parry as we dance back and forth, the sounds of dying men and pain our music.

This man is more cautious than the first and clearly knows how to use his weapon.

Eventually, he falters and I move behind him and cut the tendons behind both knees. He falls to the floor and I sheath one sword before pulling his neck back and slicing.

“Taz, behind you!” Drax screams from where he is fighting back to back with his brother. I duck, narrowly avoiding a knife which clatters to the floor. Spinning low, I roll until I'm at the man's feet. He fumbles for his sword at his waist, but he's too slow and I gut him before he can raise it.

Pain explodes in my shoulder, forcing a grunt from me as I tumble forward.

Catching myself on the floor, I roll to avoid the blade arcing down where I just was.

Ignoring the burning in my shoulder, I snap my sword up to meet his.

My attacker snarls down at me, his face wild and covered in sweat.

I kick out, forcing him back and flip to my feet.

I raise my sword, ready to jump at him when he screams and twists around, showing me the bolt in his back.

Silently thanking Drax, I use his distraction to hack at his neck.

Blood sprays as he falls to his knees, more blood bubbling at his mouth.

The poor bastard is still alive. I keep hacking, ignoring the screams and squelching, my whole world narrowing to killing him.

Blood splatters on me from my desperate swings, his head almost removed from his neck. His axe lays on the ground next to him.

Stopping, my chest heaving from my short sharp breaths, my cheek stinging and my shoulder burning, I turn with wide eyes to check everyone else.

I can't see Drax and Jax, but Thorn is holding his own against two big men.

His face is fierce and darkened by anger, his moves precise with his long sword.

He spins, parries and cuts, his feet fast for such a big man.

I tighten my hold on my sword to help, not that he needs it, when a noise drags my gaze to the open area near the bikes.

Something large hits my back, causing me to fall to my knees and then tumble onto my side.

Pain races through me from hitting my injured shoulder.

A man stumbles towards me, roaring as he does.

My eyes spot Maxen over his shoulder. He comes striding through the fray like the devil, blood and bodies painting the ground in his wake.

I watch from the ground as he hacks at a man's neck who stumbles into his path.

With a roar, he rips the man's head off.

A grin splits my face as it flies through the air and into the man above me.

Using the momentary distraction, I heave myself up, spinning and impaling him on my blade as I go.

Blood gurgles from his lips as I slide my blade out.

I turn my back on him as he falls to the floor, dead.

I make my way through the fray to Maxen, striking anything that gets in my path.

Without words, we turn back to back. Only four men remain that I can see.

Two charge at us as Maxen takes one and I face the other.

I block his swing and then stumble, my wounds weakening me as my shoulder screams.

Maxen blocks my weak side and with a shout, kicks out with all his might, sending the man attacking me tumbling into Thorn’s waiting sword.

Thorn offers me a smile before moving to my other side.

The three of us slowly push back, our attention on striking and covering each other until we stand in a circle of bodies.

My chest heaves and my arm drops limply with exhaustion.

My eyes search for more targets but I spot the twins first.

Drax and Jax stride towards us, blood and dirt covering their faces, their eyes alight with the thrill and adrenaline of their kills. Side by side the sight floors me, my warriors walk towards me, their eyes meeting mine with our shared fear, triumphant and caring.

“Well, that was fun,” I say humourlessly. We all laugh before looking around at the carnage.

“Check for anything useful and see if any are alive, they were too organised to be a random attack.” They all nod and we separate in our search, me favouring my bad arm.

A weedy scream sounds from behind the car Maxen is approaching and a body flies at him.

He slides, avoiding it, and spins. Maxen leans back, his back leg bent and his front out straight so he is almost touching the floor.

He twirls his sword with a feral grin, his bare chest gleaming with his sweat.

He gestures for the guy to come to him. I grip my sword, ready to help if need be. The man hesitates before rushing in.