Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 76736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Wild Child spins behind another and drags him around, flipping him over his leg so he rolls into his buddies.
Two of them come my way, and I show them the business end of my bat. It rings out when I connect with the helmet on one of them and knock it around, at least far enough to distract. Something smacks into my side, sending tendrils of pain tearing through me.
Shit.
I'm too slow at getting my bat up in time, and the other cop has his baton up, ready for another hit. I try to turn away from him, but the room has gotten more crowded than a mosh pit at a punk show. The baton comes at full speed for my head.
“For Valhalla!” roars a familiar voice, and a moment later Viking charges by like a crazed bull. The cop is picked right up off his feet and slammed into the wall. That gives me the opportunity to play ball with the one that's left. With a solid hit that connects under his chin, I knock him up into the air before he crashes to the floor and lies still.
They keep coming, though. Fuck, did Hawthorne send every cop in the city?
We're pushed back. Wild Child, King and me make sure we back into the hallway to Emily's room, doing our best to keep her safe. This doesn't feel like a damn rescue operation. In this chaos, there's no way they'll pick out Emily and take her safely. Hawthorne is a fucking moron.
One of them gets Wild Child in the side and he crashes against the door to the room. Emily screams as the door slams open. “Stay back!” I yell as we're pushed inside.
A moment later, the ominous sound of more gas canisters being thrown rattles down the hallway floor.
Fuck.
Does she have a mask? I take out the guy in front of me with an impact that shakes all the way up my arms, then turn around. She's backed all the way up on her cot, sobbing and coughing and rubbing at her eyes. We didn't think they were going to get this far in.
“Emily!” I tear off my mask and run towards her. Immediately, my face starts burning and my eyes watering. It's like I'm breathing hot sauce with my whole face. “Put it on.” Just talking fucking hurts.
“N—no,” she whimpers, pushing back at the mask. “You—you need—”
“Fuck that.” I pull her hands out of the way so I can put the business end toward her face. As much as the tear gas hurts, I'm not going to make her take it instead of me. It wasn't her choice to be here. Once in place, I tighten the straps for her. She looks like some sort of video game character, wearing just a T-shirt and boxers along with the mask, and she's rubbing her exposed skin, which I'm sure is burning, but at least she’s better protected.
Then I pinch my lips together and try to forget that my eyeballs are stinging like I just rubbed them in poison ivy and that my throat feels like it's going to tear itself loose.
Back to the fight for me. I heft the baseball bat and turn just in time to see two of them coming for us. If they've recognized Emily as someone to rescue, they don't give any indication of it. They raise their batons threateningly.
Gas mask or not, I'm not fucking letting them by me. With as much of a roar as I can manage with my lungs screaming, I throw myself at them. I nail the first one and he rocks sideways into the wall, where he slumps quietly. Not even a helmet can stop everything, and I cracked his right down the fucking middle. I took my eyes off the other one for too long, though.
I spin to see a black baton coming for my face. It rings my skull like a church bell, and then everything goes black.
16
EMILY
When Hero drops, I scream. He was protecting me, unlike Dad's dumb cops who obviously couldn't give a crap that I'm here. Those guys were coming to hurt me, and the one still standing over Hero still does. But first he raises his baton to hit Hero again.
Hero's bat rolls from his slack fingers and bumps against my feet. I pick it up. Here's hoping I do better than I did the night the guys stole me away. While the cop's distracted, I grip the bat with both hands and swing it like coach never let me do in the stupid high school softball league.
Apparently I learned something there, despite myself, since I connect solidly with the cop's head, staggering him. If I was as cool as the guys, I'd have launched him across the room, but at least he's rocked far enough to forget about Hero for the moment. The downside is that he's now back to focusing on me.