Page 25 of Whispers and Warriors (After #2)
TWENTY-FIVE
Emma choked on the thick smoke filling her lungs as she lay crumpled on the floor, unsure how she got there. Her body throbbed with pain, but in her haze, she couldn’t tell if blood was seeping from any wounds. What happened? The last few moments were a confusing blur in her ringing head.
A dark silhouette of a man materialized through the swirling smoke, approaching with purposeful strides.
Panic seized Emma’s chest. It can’t be. He’s dead.
“Marcus!” the fear tried to pull a snarl from her, but it came out as a hoarse croak that sent agony lancing through her skull. Ignoring the pain, she clawed at the ground, trying desperately to drag herself away from the looming threat. “You’re supposed to be dead!”
Tears streamed down her face as she scrambled backward, disoriented and terrified, the smoke obscuring her vision. Was this real or another flashback? Was she really seeing Marcus? Emma’s heart pounded wildly, her breath coming in ragged gasps, as the man drew closer with each passing second. She had to get away, had to escape, before it was too late.
As the figure loomed over her, Emma’s body reacted on pure instinct, fueled by the primal fear coursing through her veins. In a sudden, explosive motion, she lashed out with her leg, driving her knee upwards with all the strength she could muster. Her kneecap connected to the very real man’s stomach with a solid thud, eliciting a startled grunt from the man above her.
He stumbled back, his eyes widened in shock, a mix of surprise and confusion etched across his face. “Emma, it’s me!” he managed to gasp out, his voice strained. “It’s Will!”
But Emma’s mind was trapped in a fog of panic, unable to distinguish reality from the terrifying memories that held her captive. As the man reached for her again, she struck out once more, muscle memory from countless training sessions taking over. Despite the pain screaming through her body, Emma’s foot shot out, landing a precise, powerful kick directly to his groin.
The impact was sickening, and the man doubled over, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as he crumpled to the ground beside her. Emma’s chest heaved, adrenaline pumping through her system, her eyes wild and unfocused. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the smoke and tears from her vision, desperate to make sense of her surroundings.
“Emma...” William’s voice was strained, laced with pain and concern. “It’s okay. It’s just me. You’re safe now.” He reached out a trembling hand, his fingers gently brushing against her arm, trying to ground her in the present moment.
As the fog began to lift from her mind, Emma’s gaze locked onto William’s familiar blue eyes, the realization of what she’d done crashing over her like a tidal wave. “Will?” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I thought... I thought you were...” The words caught in her throat, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
William managed a strained smile, his face still etched with pain. “It’s okay, Em. No big deal. We’ve got to get out of here. I swear to god, when we get off this boat we’re never leaving our nice piece of the island.” He coughed, the smoke growing thicker around them. With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly as he regained his balance. “Come on, let’s go.”
Emma’s heart clenched as she watched him struggle, guilt gnawing at her insides. She wanted to apologize again, to beg for his forgiveness, but there was no time. The flames were spreading rapidly, the heat intensifying with each passing second. William leaned down, scooping her into his arms with a determined strength that belied his own injuries.
As he carried her through the smoke-filled room, Emma clung to him, her face buried against his chest. She could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat, a comforting reminder that he was still with her, still fighting by her side. Around them, the chaos of the attack raged on, the sound of shouting and gunfire echoing in the distance.
William navigated the burning space with a sense of urgency, his steps sure and swift despite the weight of Emma in his arms. They passed by with buckets of water, fighting to contain the flames, their faces grim and sweat-streaked. Emma watched them through half-lidded eyes, a sense of awe and gratitude swelling in her chest.
“Almost there,” William murmured, his breath hot against her ear. “Just hold on a little longer, Em. I’ve got you.” His words were a lifeline, a promise that he would never let her go, no matter what horrors they faced.
As they emerged from the smoke and into the slightly cleaner air, Emma drew in a shuddering breath, the fresh oxygen a balm to her lungs. She lifted her head, her gaze sweeping over the devastation that surrounded them. The ship looked like the deck lay in ruins.
“Emma! William!”
It was Chris, his voice raw with desperation and fear. Emma strained to see him through the smoke and her tears, her heart hammering in her chest, but the thick, acrid haze obscured her vision, a suffocating veil that separated her from the man she loved.
William tightened his grip on her, his muscles tensing beneath her fingertips. “Chris, we’re here!” he shouted, his voice hoarse from the smoke. “We’re coming to you!”
They surged forward, William’s strides determined and purposeful, each step bringing them closer to safety, to the family they had forged in the flames of this broken world. But as they emerged from the smoke, the reality of their situation crashed over Emma like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from her lungs.
Gunfire erupted around them, the sharp crack of bullets splitting the air. Screams of pain and terror mingled with the roar of the flames, a symphony of suffering that tore at Emma’s heart. She clung to William, her fingers digging into his shoulders, as if she could anchor herself to him, to the love and strength that radiated from his every pore.
“Keep your head down,” William murmured, his lips brushing against her temple. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Em. I swear it.”
Emma nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks, leaving tracks in the soot that stained her skin. She trusted him with her life, with her heart, with every fiber of her being. In a world where nothing was certain, where danger lurked around every corner, William was her constant, her guiding light in the darkness.
I love you , she wanted to say, the words burning in her throat. But the chaos swallowed her voice, the gunfire and screams drowning out the whispered confessions of her heart. Words she might never get to say again if the gunfire didn’t stop.
Instead, she buried her face in the crook of William’s neck, breathing in the scent of him, the sweat and smoke and the underlying tang of his skin. She closed her eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothe her, a reminder that they were alive, that they had each other, no matter what horrors the night held in store.
Amidst the cacophony of gunfire and anguished cries, Chris’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade, sharp and unyielding. “Will! Get her down to the room, now!” His eyes, usually a warm brown, were hard as flint, reflecting the flames that danced around them. “And grab more ammo on your way back up. We’re going to need it.”
Emma’s heart seized in her chest, a fresh wave of panic cresting over her. “No!” she screamed, her voice raw and desperate. “I’m not going to be put away like some helpless child!” She struggled against William’s hold, her nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in his skin. “I can fight, Chris. Let me stay with you!”
Chris’s gaze locked with hers, and for a moment, the world fell away, the battle fading to a distant hum. In his eyes, she saw a kaleidoscope of emotions—fear, determination, and a love so fierce it stole the breath from her lungs. “This is not your call, Emma,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “We need you safe. I need you safe.”
The words hit her like a physical blow, and she sagged against William, the fight draining out of her. She knew Chris was right, knew that her presence on the front lines would only be a liability. But the thought of being separated from them, of huddling in the depths of their sanctuary while they risked their lives, was a knife to her gut.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice cracking on the word. “Please, be careful. Come back to me.” Her eyes darted between Chris and William, trying to memorize every plane and angle of their faces, to etch this moment into her memory.
Chris’s expression softened, and he reached out, his fingers grazing her cheek in a fleeting caress. “Always,” he murmured, a promise and a prayer all in one. Then, with a nod to William, he turned back to the fray, his gun raised and ready.
As William carried her down the stairs, Emma’s mind raced, a dizzying whirlwind of fear and love and desperation. She wanted to scream, to fight, to do something other than cower in the shadows while the men she loved fought for their lives. But she knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that this was how it had to be.
Tears streamed down Emma’s face as William carried her through the dimly lit hall, his strong arms cradling her battered body with a gentleness that belied his fierce determination. She clutched at his shirt, her fingers curling into the fabric as if she could anchor herself to him, to this moment, to the fragile hope that they might all survive this nightmare. Whoever attacked them hadn’t made it this far.
“Promise me,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with smoke and emotion. “Promise me you’ll all come back. I need more than Chris’s promise.”
William’s jaw clenched, his blue eyes darkening with a mix of resolve and regret. “You know I can’t do that, Emma. I won’t make a promise I’m not sure I can keep.”
His honesty cut through her like a knife, the stark reality of their situation laid bare in his words. She knew he was right, knew that there were no guarantees in this brutal, unforgiving world. But still, she needed something to cling to, some shred of hope to light the darkness that threatened to engulf her.
She was surprised to see Alex standing guard outside the door, blood coating his shirt that thankfully didn’t appear to his as his muscular frame stood tense, ready for action.
William’s chest moved slightly under her head as he nodded to him, a silent communication passing between the two men. “Grab the ammo bag,” William instructed, his voice low and urgent. “Let’s go.”
Alex hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering to Emma’s tear-stained face. In that instant, she saw the depth of his concern, the unspoken feelings that he kept so carefully hidden beneath his cocky exterior. Then, with a curt nod, he slung the bag over his shoulder and disappeared into the smoke-filled corridor.
William carried her into the room, his steps careful and measured as he navigated the debris-strewn floor. In the corner, Liam lay motionless, his face pale and his breathing shallow and his body covered in blood. Ranger whined softly, his furry body pressed close to Liam’s side.
As William set her down gently, Emma’s heart clenched with fear and helplessness. She wanted to go to Liam, to comfort him, to will him to hold on. But her own injuries held her back, a cruel reminder of her own vulnerability.
This can’t be happening , she thought desperately, her mind reeling with the enormity of it all. We’ve come so far, fought so hard. We can’t lose each other now.
But even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew that there were no certainties, no guarantees of a happy ending. In this world, every moment was precious, every connection a gift to be cherished.
And so, as the door closed behind William and Alex, as the sounds of gunfire and chaos echoed in the distance, Emma closed her eyes and prayed. Prayed for strength, for hope, for the love that bound them all together. Prayed that somehow, against all odds, they would find their way back to each other, forever and always.
Alex watched in disbelief at what he saw as he emerged topside, at the lengths they took to save themselves, or perhaps flee because he had no way of knowing who was who if they weren’t female. It was far worse than when he’d gone to patch up Liam.
People scrambled over the railings and dropped into the churning waters below. There was no telling how much danger would be in the water with bullets and explosions, but he had no doubt into the water was the wrong choice if the ship wasn’t going down.
Which it somehow wasn’t.
In fact, he couldn’t see flames any longer, or the swaddle of flames, just sparks of gunfire in the smoke.
His senses heightened to an electrifying intensity, as a torrent of adrenaline surged relentlessly through his veins. The once orderly deck erupted into a maelstrom of sheer chaos, with piercing screams and frantic shouts tearing through the salty air like jagged knives, each sound sharp and unyielding. The atmosphere crackled with tension, as though the very air itself was charged with electricity.
Alex let his gaze sweep the deck, taking stock of his brothers-in-arms. Bash and Chris were off to his left, weapons drawn and at the ready. William guarded their rear flank, his rifle steadied against his broad shoulder. They’d been through hell together, an unbreakable bond forged in the crucible of this apocalyptic nightmare. Alex knew he could count on them with his life.
The thrum of helicopter blades sliced through the pandemonium, an ominous harbinger amidst the unfolding mayhem.
That sound, it didn’t belong.
A sinking realization hit Alex like a punch to the gut. Something was very, very wrong.
Helicopters and planes were incredibly dangerous with no one on the ground to monitor their activity and hundreds of people who would shoot them down for supplies. What the fuck was going on? This was a coordinated attack, but was it for one person on board, or the whole group?
But as his eyes lifted to the approaching chopper, a cold dread seeped into his bones. The silhouettes of armed men could be seen, poised to repel and attack. Whoever sent them was determined, organized. This was no ragtag band of raiders.
“Will!” Alex shouted over the roar of the rotors. “North side! We’ve got company!”
William pivoted, already moving to intercept. “I see them! We need to hold the line!”
Alex aimed his rifle at the descending attackers, his finger hovering over the trigger. He would have sworn they were military with how they moved, but their uniforms were black with a white logo he couldn’t make out.
His heart hammered against his ribs, but his hands were steady. He would die before he let any harm come to Emma or the others. With a world as destroyed as theirs, love was the only thing worth fighting for. And he would defend it to his final breath.
“Chris!” Bash’s gruff voice cut through the chaos, barely audible over the thundering gunfire and shouts of the attackers. “We need a plan, now!”
Alex’s gaze darted to Chris, his jaw set with grim determination as he assessed the situation. The leader’s eyes blazed with an intensity that never failed to inspire their unit. “Our priority is the ship and the women,” Chris declared, his voice carrying the weight of command. “We hold the line, no matter the cost.”
As if on cue, a hail of bullets tore through the air, the sharp cracks echoing across the deck. Alex ducked instinctively, his heart pounding in his chest as adrenaline surged through his veins. He returned fire without hesitation, his movements fluid and precise, honed by countless battles and a lifetime of training.
Time seemed to slow as Alex fell into the familiar rhythm of combat. The world narrowed to the sight of his weapon, the feel of the trigger beneath his finger, and the burning need to protect and survive. He could feel the presence of his team at his back even when he couldn’t see them, a silent reminder that he was not alone in this fight.
Alex’s mind raced as he tried to make sense of the attack. The ship was supposed to be a haven, a chance at a new beginning. But now, as bullets whizzed past his head and the cries of the wounded filled the air, he realized that even the promise of sanctuary was not immune to the cruelty of this shattered world.
“Alex, on your left!” Bash warned, his voice cutting through the haze of battle.
Alex pivoted, his rifle at the ready, and fired a burst of rounds at the approaching enemy. The recoil was a familiar jolt, grounding him in the moment. He could feel the sweat beading on his brow, the salt stinging his eyes, but he refused to yield.
The deck had become a battlefield, a chaotic whirlwind of clashing forces and flying lead. But even amidst the mayhem, Alex could see the unwavering resolve in the eyes of his brothers. They were a unit, bound by loyalty and a shared purpose, and they would fight to the bitter end.
As the relentless onslaught continued, Alex grew more on edge. People kept spilling out of the helicopter it seemed. They needed to find a way to turn the tide, to secure the ship and ensure the safety of the women on board. But with each passing moment, the odds seemed to stack against them.
Alex refused to lose hope. He had seen the depths of human resilience, the unbreakable spirit that could rise from the ashes of destruction. And as he fought side by side with his comrades, he knew that they would find a way to triumph, no matter the sacrifice.
A bullet scraped past Alex’s cheek, the searing heat of its passage a vivid reminder of the razor’s edge they walked. Pain, like pressure on a blister, erupted and he knew the damn thing had skimmed his cheek.
With lightning reflexes, he pivoted, his weapon steady in his hands as he locked onto an approaching enemy. The recoil of the shot was a familiar sensation, grounding him amidst the chaos that engulfed the deck.
“Alex, on your six!” Bash’s voice cut through the cacophony, urgent and commanding.
Alex spun again, his finger already on the trigger as he spotted the attacker emerging from behind a stack of crates. The man’s eyes widened in surprise, a moment before Alex’s bullet found its mark. The enemy crumpled, his weapon clattering to the ground.
Bash appeared at Alex’s side, his presence a reassuring constant in the heat of battle. They exchanged a brief nod, a silent acknowledgment of their shared purpose and the unbreakable trust that bound them together.
“We need to push them back,” Bash growled, his jaw set with determination. “Can’t let them get down below, I have no idea if there’s any defenses after us.”
Alex’s heart clenched at the thought of Emma caught in the crosshairs of this brutal conflict. Liam wouldn’t be much help if whoever was on this helicopter got off. They had to take it down.
“I’ve got an idea,” Alex said, his mind racing as he scanned the deck for options. “If we can flank them from the starboard side, we might be able to catch them off guard and knock it down.”
Bash’s eyes glinted with a fierce light, a predatory smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Lead the way, Brother.”
Together, they moved with practiced precision, their steps in perfect sync as they navigated the chaos of the battlefield. Alex’s senses were heightened, his every nerve ending alive with the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins.
As they rounded a corner, a group of attackers came into view, their weapons trained on the defenseless women huddled behind a makeshift barricade. Alex’s blood boiled at the sight, a primal rage igniting within him.
“Now!” he shouted, and he and Bash sprang into action, their weapons blazing as they charged forward.
The attackers scattered, caught off guard by the sudden assault. Alex moved with fluid grace, his every shot finding its mark as he danced through the hail of bullets. Beside him, Bash was a force of nature, his powerful frame a battering ram that scattered their foes like leaves in the wind.
Amidst the swirling smoke and chaos, Alex’s eyes widened as he caught sight of familiar uniforms cutting through the fray. The ship’s guards, their loyalty unwavering, had joined the battle, their weapons raised in defense of the vessel and its precious cargo. A surge of hope swelled within Alex’s chest, the odds shifting in their favor with each passing moment.
“Look alive, Bash!” Alex called out, his voice barely audible over the deafening gunfire. “We’ve got backup!”
Bash grinned, his teeth flashing white against his soot-stained face. “About damn time! Let’s give ‘em hell!”
They surged forward, their movements fluid and precise, honed by years of training and countless battles fought side by side. The acrid scent of gunpowder filled Alex’s nostrils, mingling with the salty tang of the sea air. His ears rang with the relentless barrage of gunshots, but he pushed past the discomfort, his focus unwavering.
Another bullet came too close for comfort. He didn’t flinch, his hands steady as he returned fire, the recoil of his weapon a familiar comfort. The world narrowed to the space between breaths, each inhale and exhale a metronome guiding his actions.
“Bash, on your left!” William’s warning shout cut through the ruckus, and Alex pivoted to help, his gun already raised.
Bash’s attacker fell, his body crumpling to the deck like a marionette with its strings cut. Alex moved on, his steps never faltering, his mind clear and focused. He was a weapon, honed to a razor’s edge, and he would not rest until Emma and the others were safe.
“We’ve got to push them back!” Alex yelled, his voice hoarse from the smoke and exertion. “Drive them toward the guards and then aim at the fucking bird!”
Bash nodded, his expression grim. “On it. Chris, William, flank them from the sides. We’ll converge in the middle.”
The ship’s guards, seeing the teams intent, redoubled their efforts, their weapons spitting fire into the ranks of the enemy.
Step by step, they pushed forward, the tide of battle turning in their favor. Alex’s heart raced, his blood singing with the thrill of the fight. This was what he was made for, what he had trained for all his life.
Alex’s lungs burned with each labored breath, the acrid taste of gunpowder coating his tongue as he darted behind a nearby crate. The rough wood dug into his back, a welcome sensation amidst the chaos that engulfed the deck. His mind raced, analyzing the battlefield with a medic’s keen eye, searching for any advantage that could turn the tide in their favor.
Through the gaps between the crates, Alex spotted a clear line of sight to a group of attackers who had managed to breach the ship’s defenses. Their movements were hesitant, uncertain, as if they hadn’t expected such fierce resistance. Alex’s lips curled into a grim smile. They had underestimated the resolve of those who fought for love.
Catching Bash’s eye across the deck, Alex signaled to him, a series of quick hand gestures that they had practiced countless times before. Bash nodded, his expression one of grim determination as he relayed the message to the others. They would hit the assholes hard and fast, a coordinated strike that would leave them reeling.
As Alex waited for the signal to move, his thoughts drifted to Emma, to the fierce love that burned within his heart. She was his anchor in this storm, the one constant in a world gone mad. He would fight for her, die for her, if need be, to ensure that she and the others survived this hellish nightmare.
The signal came, a sharp whistle that pierced through the din of battle. Alex surged forward, his weapon at the ready, his feet pounding against the blood-slicked deck. He could feel Bash at his side, a comforting presence amidst the chaos, as they charged toward the enemy.
The world narrowed to a single point, a crystalline moment of clarity amidst the madness. Alex’s muscles burned with exertion, his heart pounding in his chest as he pushed himself to the limit. The deck had become a battlefield, a chaotic mix of clashing forces and desperate struggles for survival.
But through it all, Alex’s resolve never wavered. He would fight, he would bleed, he would do whatever it took to protect those he loved. They were the light in the darkness, in the hail of smoke and bullets, he kept his mental sights trained on them.
Alex ducked behind a steel bulkhead, narrowly avoiding a hail of bullets that ricocheted off the metal. His breath came in ragged gasps, the adrenaline surging through his veins like liquid fire. He risked a glance around the corner, his hazel eyes scanning the deck for any of the others.
A simple plan had fallen apart so fast, and he had no idea how many people had breeched the ship or if more were coming.
All Alex knew was that helicopter had to come down.