Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
31
NITRO
All I can fucking see is dust.
“Tank! Shit, fuck!” A length of rebar got me in the shoulder and it fucking hurts, but I can move it okay, so I don't think it's serious. Fuck, that was a closer call than I like. “Wraith!”
A deep, hacking cough sounds in the dust cloud to my right. “Here.” It sounds like a whole section of broken building shifts as Tank gets himself loose, but I'm guessing he's alright, since he doesn't say anything else.
“Wraith!”
“Stop shouting,” comes his bitchy voice from my left. “My leg’s trapped, but I think I'm okay. Just fucking stuck.”
“Coming.” Either the shooting paused when I blew out the back of Alessa's apartment, or I just can’t hear shit anymore. We need to get the fuck outta here before all the dust settles and they catch us out in the open.
A massive shadow emerges from the cloud, revealing Tank. His jacket's got some vicious shreds in it, and there's blood oozing down from an ugly scrape on his neck, but he's moving. I bet I don't look any fucking better.
“Jesus fucking Christ on a goddamn motorcycle,” Wraith groans. “What the hell did you do? I wanted a distraction, not demolition.”
“Por que no los dos? If you think mixing cleaning supplies and gunpowder the right way in the middle of a fucking siege, and still making sure it's definitely enough to open up the back wall of a fucking house without blowing us apart is easy, then you can make the next fucking bomb, deal? They got Kaylee out, right? I was a little busy.”
Wraith laughs hoarsely. “Yeah, Hero and Badass got her clear. Fucking help me out, here.”
We find him under a collapsed section of wall. There's blood coming from a cut on his forehead and the tattoo on his forearm is gonna need a touchup once the gash there has healed, but he looks mostly angry at being trapped instead of hurt.
Tank grabs one part, and I grab the other. “Ready?” he growls.
“Go for it. Lift with your legs, not your back, fellas.”
Tank and I both give him the finger, then get back in position. We groan as we lift. Fuck, this is heavy. Every muscle I've fucking got is straining. Even Tank, who usually takes shit like this with one arm is giving it his all, those huge fucking biceps of his swelling as he pulls. The wall segment shifts, and Wraith pulls himself upward.
“Hurry, can't fucking hold it for long,” Tank hisses through gritted teeth, and I can only nod in agreement.
Wraith doesn't waste any time, getting himself clear as soon as there's any give. He gets to his feet, dusts himself off then nods. “Let's go find Kaylee.”
Using what's left of the dust cloud for cover, we rush behind the neighboring unit. I don’t know what choice I had, but the thought that the cops might not have bothered clearing out the residents before opening fire makes me sick. And they’ll blame all this on us, even though they were the ones that went in with fucking firebombs in a residential neighborhood. Kids live here, assholes.
We keep low along the back wall, using the chaos for as much cover as possible until we can get around to tell everyone we're still breathing. No one wins a fucking shootout like this, so the sooner we can just get the fuck back to the clubhouse, the better.
King's the first one to spot us. Relief flashes across his face. “Boys! Fuck, am I glad to see you alive and walking!”
“Where's Kaylee?” is our first question, and we all fucking ask it at once.
“I was hoping you fucking knew. Hero and Badass got her out, but she vanished when the fucking walls came down and everyone scattered. Do you have any way of contacting her? A number maybe?”
I shake my head. “Hasn’t exactly been time to shop for phones. We should’ve fucking sorted a burner for her, but she’s been with at least one of us since we snatched her from the cops.” I scan the street, looking for any sign. By now the fight is breaking up, there are still potshots being fired from both sides, but Harris is nowhere to be seen.
“Would she run away?” Tank frowns, considering options, and it's obvious he's not liking all of the answers.
“She wouldn't leave us,” Wraith says with utter confidence.
He's right. She wouldn't, not after all this. I refuse to fucking accept that and my gut's telling me that's the fucking truth. “No, but she might try to get clear of the danger.”
King nods. “I don't fucking like it. Where's your bikes?”
“Parking garage around the block.” Wraith points down the street, then glances over at the smoking ruins of Alessa's apartment. “Didn't wanna advertise that we were there. Not that it did us a lot of good.”