Blood Lands (Savage Lands #5)(97)

“Tad!” I crawled to him.

Breathing heavily, he stared at me, his face pale. “I’ll be fine. Go, my girl. Don’t let him get away. Get the boy.”

“Come on!” Warwick grabbed my arm, yanking me up as he was already racing for the gate. Grabbing the reinforced metal, his muscles flexed and strained, a guttural roar heaving from his chest as he pulled on it. The metal shredded and pitched as he forced it open, a grunt scraping up his throat and tearing more crevasse into his vocal cords.

Snap!

The hinges on the gate broke, the gate falling open. Yells and even more gunfire roared up in both cheers and protests behind us. Gunfire pinged off the walls at our heads as we ran in, our feet moving us to safety. For now. I knew many would follow behind us. Prisoners and guards.

Fire bulbs lit every dozen yards, giving us enough to see where we were going. The tunnel steadily inclined toward the surface; the rumble of vehicles could still be felt under our feet.

We weren’t too late.

“Hurr—!”

BOOOM!

The tunnel quaked with rage, swallowing Warwick’s sentence. Earth heaved under our feet, tearing down the ceiling on us.

“Kovacs!” he screamed, his physique crashing into mine, taking us both to the ground. His warm, massive frame covered mine as chunks rained down, tucking us up against the wall. He shielded me as the heavy pieces lightened into a patter.

Coughing and hacking, we slowly lifted our heads, seeing the destruction before us. A lot of the ceiling had collapsed.

A person on foot could still pass through, but cars wouldn’t be getting in or out anytime soon. And if they were in the tunnel, they probably would have been crushed, or at least stopped.

“Simon,” Warwick whispered his name, the same thought coming to him.

We were both back up, panic pushing us past feeling any pain from the falling rocks, bruising and cutting at our skin. Scaling over boulders, mounds of dirt, and cement, we treated the tunnel as an obstacle course race. One we had to win.

Up ahead, natural light spilled into the darkness, growing brighter the closer we got, permitting my eyes to make out more shapes.

“Warwick...” I gulped, pointing about a hundred yards ahead of us. Brake lights glowed through the wreckage. The armored cars withstood the destruction but were buried under the cave-in, trapping them.

Sneaking up, our guns primed, I noticed a few car doors left open. My pulse thumped against my neck as Warwick and I checked each car, finding them empty, the strum of disappointment playing in my stomach, terrified they had gotten out and were past catching now.

“Fuck!” Warwick hit the final car we checked, anger at his own failure to protect Simon.

Pops of gunfire streamed into the tunnel from outside, prompting us to look at each other, hope filling up the air between us like a balloon. Our legs bolted forward, scaling the final stretch of rubble blocking our way.

The sun was lowering on the mountain, splashing the sky with deep blues and purples, the tips of the forest around the Elizabeth Lookout Tower painted in oranges, reds, and browns. It was only a split second, breathing in the fresh, crisp air, piercing my lungs with a delicious stab. Most people didn’t appreciate the simple things, the gifts of true freedom. The feel of the cold air snapping at your exposed skin, filling you with vivacity. The sight of nature thrumming with life, the rich colors of the sunsets, birds chirping in the sky.

But in this case, gunfire as well.

Darting out of the excavated tunnel, we crept out toward the commotion, perching behind an old stone monument.

“Holy shit.” I gawked. Down the one lane which led in and out of this place, a barricade of cars and SUVs blocked the road, preventing an easy escape. And behind the cars, my eyes caught familiar faces.

Tears of relief sizzled behind my lids.

Eliza, Zander, and Mykel.

Warwick’s head dropped for a moment, his cheek twitching as he took a moment. He didn’t show anything more, but I could feel it everywhere. Relief. Happiness. Pride.

His sister was alive. Not only that, but she finished what we could not. She found my uncle and got us help.

The relief was short-lived. Not far from us, the ground was leveled and primed for new buildings, cutting into the forest. A few structures were being built with a partial thick stone wall, giving a little coverage for at least a hundred HDF soldiers shooting back at Povstat. Istvan clearly had plans to make this into a fortress, assuring we would never be able to escape. I had no idea a whole battalion was above our heads this whole time.

“Go!” Istvan’s voice shot my attention to him, finding him behind a section of the new wall. He waved Tracker on, pushing Olena and Ivanenko to follow him. His faithful lapdog kept crouched, running off behind the tower with the wannabe queen and her daddy behind him, leaving Istvan and Simon with four other guards. All the others were fighting to hold the line against Povstat, Istvan throwing orders and commands to the forces.

No longer were Sonya, Alexandru, and Sergiu with him. They undoubtedly dashed off into the forest the moment they could, while Istvan and the guards were distracted.

My fingers crunched down on my weapon, spotting the box in his hand, his other hand on the back of Simon’s neck.

He deserved to die. He had caused so much suffering.

My finger pushed firmer on the trigger.

“No.” Warwick shoved my gun off the target. “You might hit Simon.”