Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Wyatt dropped to his hands and knees and crawled behind a solid metallic box, a gunshot ricocheting off the metal. Bang Bang took out one of the Pride members but couldn’t seem to get a clear shot on the other one, his bullets hitting the window above them instead.
Chaos and terror filled the room. Wyatt winced with every gunshot, scared to see one of his own falling dead. Terrified to see a bullet go through Roman, the love of his life. His mind raced. What could he do to help?
Mimic was able to get herself behind the same box Wyatt took cover with. She didn’t speak, and neither did Wyatt, sharing all the words they needed to say with a tight embrace instead. Phantom appeared moments after.
“Shit, more of them,” he said, looking at the door.
Sure enough, six other Pride members filtered in, all of them with their guns locked on Roman and Bang Bang, who were towering over a cornered and unarmed Leonidas.
No… they had him. We almost had him.
They may have been able to take out four Pride members with the element of surprise on their side, but six of them with their backs against the wall would be impossible.
Well, maybe not totally impossible.
Wyatt realized they weren’t paying attention to him or Mimic, Phantom having disappeared somewhere. They must have written off the lanky and glasses-wearing guy as a non-threat. Someone to deal with later. He’d always been underestimated—even by his own self. Wyatt had always dealt with self-esteem issues, the kind that turn your gaze to the floor and your self-worth to trash. It was what stopped him from looking for work or trying to get his life back together after getting kicked out of Yale. He just didn’t think he was worth it.
Not anymore. He’d come way too far to see himself in that kind of light. Hindsight proved that those were all lies, assumptions based on nothing but fear and conjecture.
He looked up at the long window that spanned the room, water refracting the light and casting a shifting blue filter on everyone around. There were spiderweb cracks forming on the glass from previous stray bullets—or had they been stray? Bang Bang never missed, not that many times.
No. He was shooting it on purpose.
And it was time for Wyatt to finish the job.
He pulled the gun from under his shirt. Only one of the men saw him, but he didn’t react in time. He could barely get out the words “Watch out!” before Wyatt let loose a sequence of shots, aiming for the center of the window. The bangs of the gun echoed through the room, startling nearly everyone and drawing all eyes to him.
Momentarily, of course. The attention was quickly stolen by the sound of fracturing glass and trickling water.
Things were about to get crazy.
Chapter 29
Roman Ashford
Thank God for Salt. His quick thinking and sharp(ish) shooting saved all of their asses as Leonidas and his Pride lackeys forgot all about their prisoners and focused instead on the rapidly increasing stream of water shooting out from the dozens of cracks in the glass, growing larger, the sound of shattering glass getting louder.
“Run!” Leonidas shouted just as the glass gave way and the ocean entered. Roman was already ahead of him, grabbing Mimic and Wyatt and bolting toward the door, Bang Bang and Phantom hot on their heels. The sound of rushing water resembled that of a roaring lion, as if the beast was coming to get them and was out for blood.
They burst out into the hallway, running straight ahead. The Pride members had all panicked and run, too, some of them ahead of the Rainbow’s Eight. It helped, considering they would know what the fastest way out of this watery coffin would be.
Roman followed, the five of them running faster than they’d ever had in their lives.
“Go, go! Faster!” Roman shouted.
“I’m trying,” Wyatt shouted back, hand squeezing onto his tight enough to stop the blood flow.
Roman risked a glance over his shoulder. It was a mistake. Seeing the wall of water barreling toward him only made survival seem even more impossible. It crashed against the narrow walls, curling upward, kissing the ceiling, filling in all the empty space. Chairs and computers and other random garbage floated in the flotsam that jetted toward them.
“Faster,” Roman repeated, his tone panicked. They followed the Pride members around a bend in the corner. The torrent of water curved with them, slamming into the walls, blowing up doors, and breaking more windows. Someone who’d been confused by why everyone was running only realized once it was too late, the tidal wave consuming her and crushing her.
The hallway opened up to a set of stairs. They took them three at a time, running as fast as humanely possible while still being careful no one tripped. If anyone got their shoe caught in one of the rungs of the stairs, it would be game over. The water rushed up the spiral staircase, brushing up against the sole of Roman’s shoes before he leapt onto a flat landing.