Into the Still Blue (Under the Never Sky, #3)(25)

The shots stopped, the drone of the rain filling the quiet. He lifted his head. The Guardians were running for the woods.

The shorter man of the two turned as he fled, unleashing a barrage of shots at Roar, who crouched by the Dragonwing.

Roar launched himself beneath the craft, disappearing to the other side.

More gunshots. Whistling overhead on a path to Aria. Slapping the mud by Perry’s arms.

Ignoring them, he brought his gun up, everything he knew about shooting falling into place. He relaxed his muscles, letting the bones in his arms support the weapon. Then he aimed and let out his breath, firing two shots. Adjusting slightly, he found the next man and squeezed the trigger twice again.

They were clean shots, all. Kill shots.

The Guardians went sprawling just before the tree line.

Perry leaped up before they’d fallen to the earth. Scrabbling for a foothold in the thick mud, he half sprinted, half slid to the Belswan, one thought blaring in his mind. One person.

“I’m fine,” Aria said as he reached her.

He took her by the shoulders and looked her over anyway. Head to toe. Toe to head. She was all right. He waited for the relief to set in, but it wouldn’t.

“Perry, are you?” Aria asked, her eyes narrowing.

He shook his head. “No.”

A wailing sound pulled his attention away. Nearby, Jupiter clutched his thigh as he writhed in agony on the ground. Brooke knelt beside him. Blood poured from a cut high on her scalp, running down one side of her face.

“It’s nothing, Perry,” she said. “Just a graze, but he’s worse. They got him in the leg.”

Aria moved to Jupiter’s other side. “Let me see, Jup. Calm down and let me see.”

Perry glanced across the field. Roar stood by the Dragonwing, over the bodies of the other two Guardians. Perry whistled, and Roar looked up. He shook his head, and Perry understood. Roar had shot them. He’d needed to. The instant Soren’s gun went off, there’d been no other possible outcome.

Perry’s vision began to tunnel, his rage focusing on one point. Wheeling, he snatched Soren up by the collar. “What’s wrong with you?” he yelled.

“They weren’t putting down their guns!”

Soren struggled, but Perry held him fast. “You didn’t give them a chance!”

“Yes, I did! How much time does it take to lower a gun? An hour?” Soren stilled, no longer fighting against Perry’s grip. “It was only supposed to be a warning shot! I didn’t know they’d shoot back!”

Perry couldn’t respond. He wanted to break Soren’s jaw again. Prevent him from ever speaking another word. “I should have finished you off the first time, Dweller.”

Roar jogged up. “We need to move, Perry. Time’s running.”

“You’re going back,” Perry said, releasing Soren with a shove. “You’re out of this.”

Soren was a danger. There was no way Perry would take him into the Komodo now.

“Oh yeah? Who’s going to fly the Dragonwing for you?” Soren tipped his head to Jupiter. “Him? I don’t think so. Who’s going to get you to Cinder inside the Komodo? You think you’re just going to stumble up to him, Savage?”

“I should’ve learned to fly Hovers,” Aria said.

Her tone was wry, but her temper was ice. Controlled. Perry drank it in, letting it take the edge off his own anger.

“We have to bring him, Perry,” she said. “The Guardians are all dead. Jupiter and Brooke are hurt. If Soren doesn’t come, it’s over.”

Perry looked at Soren. “Get in the Dragonwing and wait there. Don’t even blink without telling me first.”

Soren marched away, grumbling. “I’m blinking, Savage. I’m doing it right now.”

“Soren,” Roar called. When Soren looked back, Roar flung his knife into the air. The blade spun end over end, heading right for Soren, who yelped and dodged aside.

It missed him by a hair, as Roar had surely intended. Roar never missed.

“Are you insane?” Soren yelled, his face turning red.

Roar jogged over and calmly picked up his knife, but he sheathed the blade with a vicious thrust. “That’s how you do a warning shot.”

Perry watched them walk to the Dragonwing. Same direction, twenty paces between them. Then he carried Jupiter into the Belswan, setting him down in the pilot seat.

Aria had already boarded the ship. She tied a tourniquet around Jupiter’s leg. Then she wrapped a bandage around Brooke’s head as she relayed instructions to Brooke for treating Jupiter’s wound. Anticoagulant. Pressure. Pain medication. Everything was in the kit at her feet.

Jupiter rambled, asking over and over if he was going to die. The blood from his leg mixed with the rainwater on the floor of the craft. From what Perry could tell, the shot had only hit muscle, the bullet cutting through cleanly. As gunshot wounds went, it was a good one, but Jupiter blathered on until Aria put her hand over his mouth, silencing him.

“Pay attention,” she said. “You need to fly this Hover, Jupiter. Get back to the cave. Brooke knows the way. They’ll take care of you there.”

“We’ll get there,” Brooke said, smiling. “Don’t worry about us. Go. And good luck.”

“You too, Brooke,” Aria said. “Be safe.” Then she darted out of the cockpit.