right?”
He leans forward, placing his face I his hands. “She didn’t want me to come, but I insisted.” He starts to cry. “How am I supposed to keep Louis away from her now?”
I put my arm around him. “One thing I can’t tolerate is some creep moving in on a woman the moment her man is gone. Tell me where the camp is and we’ll bring her here.”
“I’ll see to it myself,” Nal says out the window.
Ralph wipes his face with his sleeve. “We stay in a subdivision about ten miles south of here.”
“Back off 109?”
He nods. “A gated community not far from Lindenwood High.”
“We’ll get her back,” Nal says. “You worry about getting some rest.” He knocks on the window twice. “You too, Mitch. Don’t make me slam the brakes to knock you out.”
“Gotcha,” I say. I want to argue, but the pain in my leg is intense. I doubt I’ll be able to sleep, but I close my eyes anyways.
“Oh my god, is he OK?” Sara yells, waking me up.
“I’m fine,” I say, looking over at her. “Just a scratch.”
“Just a scratch? The shirt is covered in blood!”
I look down to see the once white shirt now stained a dark shade of red. When I move my hand from my side to place it on her beautiful face when I notice blood dripping from my fingertips.
“Maybe it’s worse than it looks,” I say, wiping my hand on my shirt.
Uriel walks up to Nal behind the truck in her older form.
“Brought them all back in one piece, though this one made it difficult,” he says, laughing.
“That one can be trouble,” she says, smirking. “Get them all down in the basement.” She looks over at the soldiers that rushed over to help.
“Carefully,” she says. “They have suffered enough for one day.”
Nal bends over and gives her a hug. “You did well,” she says. “I knew you would.”
The two guys in the truck who could walk, follow Uriel into the house, leaving Ralph and I to be carried. I pull myself to the back using the side of the truck. The last thing Ralph needs is to be moved around any more than necessary.
One soldier places a stretcher next to me. “Let’s get you downstairs.”
I shrug him off. “Get him first,” I say. “He is in worse shape.”
The man looks down at my blood soaked pants and shakes his head. “If you say so.”
He jumps onto the bed of the truck along with another solider. They take a minute, but they get him moved onto the stretcher with little problem.
“Is he OK?” I say. “It doesn’t look like he is breathing.”
The soldier checks for a pulse. “He’s alive, but ice cold.”
“Get him downstairs, now!” I say, scooting off the truck and out of the way.
They pull him off of the truck and rush him through the front door.
“What happened back there?” Sara says, helping me stand up.
“We ran into another group,” I say. “Though they weren’t the problem.”
“What was then?”
“Three large ass dogs. The type that melts anything they touch.”
Her jaw drops open. “Where did they come from?”
“I’m not sure, but it can’t be a nice place.”
It is painful, but she helps me hobble back to the tailgate so I can prop my foot back up. “They are dead, at least. I just hope there aren’t any more.”
Sara looks at the door and back at me while pacing back and forth. “I wonder what is taking so long.”
“She is probably patching Ralph up first,” I say. “He was in bad shape.”
“You’re in bad shape!” she yells.
“Easy there, sometimes even I have to take turns.”
She walks over, taking me in her arms. “I know,” she says. “I just worry about you.”
“I worry about this,” I say, reaching over to grab the necklace.
“Don’t. I have it under control.”
I smile, bending forward to steal a kiss. “I hope so.”
“Your turn, Mitch,” a soldier says walking up.
“Ralph OK?” I say.
“He is now. Uriel brought him back.”
“He died?” Sara says.
He nods. “Right when we
He leans forward, placing his face I his hands. “She didn’t want me to come, but I insisted.” He starts to cry. “How am I supposed to keep Louis away from her now?”
I put my arm around him. “One thing I can’t tolerate is some creep moving in on a woman the moment her man is gone. Tell me where the camp is and we’ll bring her here.”
“I’ll see to it myself,” Nal says out the window.
Ralph wipes his face with his sleeve. “We stay in a subdivision about ten miles south of here.”
“Back off 109?”
He nods. “A gated community not far from Lindenwood High.”
“We’ll get her back,” Nal says. “You worry about getting some rest.” He knocks on the window twice. “You too, Mitch. Don’t make me slam the brakes to knock you out.”
“Gotcha,” I say. I want to argue, but the pain in my leg is intense. I doubt I’ll be able to sleep, but I close my eyes anyways.
“Oh my god, is he OK?” Sara yells, waking me up.
“I’m fine,” I say, looking over at her. “Just a scratch.”
“Just a scratch? The shirt is covered in blood!”
I look down to see the once white shirt now stained a dark shade of red. When I move my hand from my side to place it on her beautiful face when I notice blood dripping from my fingertips.
“Maybe it’s worse than it looks,” I say, wiping my hand on my shirt.
Uriel walks up to Nal behind the truck in her older form.
“Brought them all back in one piece, though this one made it difficult,” he says, laughing.
“That one can be trouble,” she says, smirking. “Get them all down in the basement.” She looks over at the soldiers that rushed over to help.
“Carefully,” she says. “They have suffered enough for one day.”
Nal bends over and gives her a hug. “You did well,” she says. “I knew you would.”
The two guys in the truck who could walk, follow Uriel into the house, leaving Ralph and I to be carried. I pull myself to the back using the side of the truck. The last thing Ralph needs is to be moved around any more than necessary.
One soldier places a stretcher next to me. “Let’s get you downstairs.”
I shrug him off. “Get him first,” I say. “He is in worse shape.”
The man looks down at my blood soaked pants and shakes his head. “If you say so.”
He jumps onto the bed of the truck along with another solider. They take a minute, but they get him moved onto the stretcher with little problem.
“Is he OK?” I say. “It doesn’t look like he is breathing.”
The soldier checks for a pulse. “He’s alive, but ice cold.”
“Get him downstairs, now!” I say, scooting off the truck and out of the way.
They pull him off of the truck and rush him through the front door.
“What happened back there?” Sara says, helping me stand up.
“We ran into another group,” I say. “Though they weren’t the problem.”
“What was then?”
“Three large ass dogs. The type that melts anything they touch.”
Her jaw drops open. “Where did they come from?”
“I’m not sure, but it can’t be a nice place.”
It is painful, but she helps me hobble back to the tailgate so I can prop my foot back up. “They are dead, at least. I just hope there aren’t any more.”
Sara looks at the door and back at me while pacing back and forth. “I wonder what is taking so long.”
“She is probably patching Ralph up first,” I say. “He was in bad shape.”
“You’re in bad shape!” she yells.
“Easy there, sometimes even I have to take turns.”
She walks over, taking me in her arms. “I know,” she says. “I just worry about you.”
“I worry about this,” I say, reaching over to grab the necklace.
“Don’t. I have it under control.”
I smile, bending forward to steal a kiss. “I hope so.”
“Your turn, Mitch,” a soldier says walking up.
“Ralph OK?” I say.
“He is now. Uriel brought him back.”
“He died?” Sara says.
He nods. “Right when we
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