Broken & Hunted

by Charissa Dufour

  Nathyn threw Calen a grin. “I’ll refrain from commenting.”

  “Wise man.”

  “What about Bit’s little rampage? You gonna stay in the fight?” Nathyn asked, referring to the race for Bit’s heart.

  Calen slumped back onto his haunches, giving up on the fight with the bedroll. “The very fact you referred to it as a fight means I need to bow out.”

  Nathyn’s brows pulled down into a frown.

  “Bit’s wellbeing, her recovery from whatever her life has been in the past, is more important than whether or not she likes me more than Blaine or Oden or anyone else. And that’s not something Blaine gets.”

  “And Oden?”

  “Oden gets it better than anyone else. Hell, Oden gets it better than the captain.” Calen stopped talking, disgust with himself taking over any feelings he had for the girl in question.

  Nathyn nodded quietly, allowing his new roommate to stew in silence.

  The whole group was just beginning to settle down for the night—one man on watch at the barricaded door and one on the back porch—when they heard an unusual creak in the hallway. Reese, who had been selected for first watch at the door, pressed his eye up to the peep hole for a second before jerking back. He spun back, making eye contact with those few who were still in the main room.

  “What is it?” Randal asked in a whisper.

  “Multiple armed men in the hallway,” Reese replied.

  “Get the women. We take the fire escape.”

  Standing near his doorway, Calen was the nearest to Lexi’s room. He opened the door without knocking, knowing that they were already in bed. In the darkness he spotted Bit’s eyes open. She stayed silent as he held his finger to his lips and motioned for her to exit. She nodded once.

  New respect for the brave little woman filled his chest. No matter what happened, no matter how hurt she became, she just did whatever was needed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bit wince as she climbed down from the top bunk. Calen moved to Lexi’s side and covered her mouth. She jerked awake, terror clouding her eyes as they worked to focus on his face. When they came into focus, he released her mouth.

  “Get your shoes on. No talking,” he said in a breathless whisper.

  He watched her swallow a lump from her throat before she obeyed, fresh tears welling in her eyes. His little sister wasn’t cut out for this, but Bit would take care of her. He left their room to help the others.

  In record time, Bit led Lexi out of their shared room, their shoes and jackets on. The others were already convening silently on the deck. Jack stayed behind to create sleeping decoys with pillows and turn off lights in each room, slowly working his way through the rooms on his way to the porch.

  “What are we going to do?” demanded Debby in a harsh whisper.

  “You all will go down the ladder,” ordered Randal. “I will lead them away from here.”

  “That’s suicide,” countered Jack.

  “I won’t make it down the ladder with my arm like this,” said Randal, nodding to his the arm hanging in a sling. “I’ll have a better shot leading them in a chase through the building, and it will give you guys more time to escape.”

  Everyone peeked over the railing of the porch, eyeing the forty-two floors between them and the ground, each responding in their own way.

  “Are you nuts!” hissed the nurse.

  “I’ll go first,” offered Bit.

  “No,” said Blaine and Calen at a first time.

  Bit prepared to argue.

  “Your ribs are broken,” Calen said, cutting her off before she could argue. “This is gonna hurt like a bitch. You need someone to go down before you. Nathyn, would you go first to guide Bit down.”

  “Sure thing,” said the cocky rifleman.

  “One at a time,” ordered Randal. “I don’t know how stable this old thing is.”

  “I’ll call up when I reach the second set of ladders.” Nathyn swung his leg over the guard rail and began his descent.

  Randal nodded his agreement to the plan. “Blaine, you’re in charge of their safety, but you still answer to Jack. You understand?”

  Blaine nodded once to his leader.

  The small group waited in silence, the only sound the Martian wind whipping between the tall buildings. Before Nathyn reached the next landing two stories down, Jack appeared having darkened the entire condo. Randal gripped his hand, giving him a shake before disappearing back into the deserted condo. Jack glided the sliding door shut and locked it from the outside before pulling down a storm door.

  “I’m down,” a voice came from below.

  “You next, Bit,” Blaine said before helping her over.

  Calen felt his stomach fill with rocks as he watched Bit disappear over the railing and work her way down into the darkness. He saw the pain in her white face as she grimaced with each movement.

  But she’s a tough little cookie. She’ll make it down.

  Calen stayed back when Jack asked for the next volunteer. As he expected, Blaine jumped forward and began the descent, followed by Tilly, a frightened Lexi, Reese, and Debby. Finally, Jack ordered Calen down. To his surprise, Calen felt his own panic build as he climbed over the railing and probed with his foot for the next rung on the ladder. He found it and began the agonizingly long climb down.

  By the time he reached the ground, his muscles shook with fatigue and his face burned from the wind. Calen breathed a sigh of relief as his feet touched down. He glanced up to see Jack working his way down, three stories above his head.

  A soft sob drew Calen’s attention away from the man elevated above their heads. Bit lay on her side across the cold pavement. Debby knelt behind Bit’s back, supporting her battered body, one hand helping to hold Bit’s broken ribs in place. For once, Debby didn’t look annoyed with the other woman.

  Blaine knelt at Bit’s head, his comm. device in his hand, his jaw clenched as though he were chewing nails. The security officer glanced up at Calen, daring him to intervene. Calen took a deep breath and willed himself to check on his mother and sister.

  “Is she going to be okay?” Lexi asked in a frightened whisper.

  “The climb down was incredibly painful,” Tilly was saying as he approached. “She just needs a minute. Broken ribs are very painful even if you’re not climbing down forty-two stories.”

  “Are you guys okay?” Calen asked.

  “Just a little shaken,” Tilly said.

  Calen gave her a faint smile. “We’ll be okay.”

  “What are we going to do now?” cried Lexi.

  “That’s up to Jack.” Calen took another deep breath, forcing his gaze to remain on his mother as he heard Bit let out another whimper of pain.

  Jack jumped from the ladder, skipping the last couple rungs entirely. “What is going on?”

  Calen crossed to him, reaching Bit’s side at the same time.

  Debby glared up at her boyfriend. “This was an asinine plan. I don’t know how any of us non-military types made it down forty-two stories, much less this girl with multiple broken ribs. She’s in agony. I need to get her pain meds. NOW!”

  Jack flinched at her tone. Calen was the first to admit that Debby was bitch, but even he was taken aback by the fire in her eyes. The fact that it was in defense of Bit took them all totally by surprise.

  “Okay,” said Jack, raising his hands in defense. “We’ll get her meds as soon as we can.”

  Calen winced as Bit let out another quiet whimper. Whatever pain she was in, she still knew they needed to be quiet. Her effort sent another stab to his heart.

  “But first we have to get off the streets and away from the condo,” continued Jack.

  Debby stared at him for a moment before nodding. Jack moved to where Bit lay and motioned for the group to circle up around her.

  “Jack, I suggest we all take a trip up to the ship. There’s an infirmary up there where Debby can tend to Bit, it’s difficult to get to, and—should it be necessary—it’s defendable,”
explained Blaine. “There we can figure out what is going on and make a game plan. Randal will know to meet us there.”

  Jack nodded his agreement.

  “Jack,” began his mother, “I want to take Lexi to a friend here in Tifton. We’re not part of this, and you know it. We’ll be safe there.”

  “Mom, there’s nowhere safe here on Mars. Whoever these people are they have found Bit or us everywhere we’ve been. I can’t guarantee you’d be safe.”

  “Within the walled, guarded estate of the dean’s home we’d be safe.”

  Jack stared down at his mother. “You mean Rich Ekhart?”

  Tilly glanced away and back. “We’ve been seeing each other for about six months. His estate will be safe.”

  Jack’s stare transformed into a dark glare and Calen couldn’t blame him. His own shock nearly sent him over the edge. Rich Ekhart had been like an uncle to them in their younger years—their father’s college buddy. Had life been different, had their father been the head of a more successful business, they would have continued to be close friends. Instead, Luther Macleef had run an ethical business with mediocre revenue, and Rich Ekhart had distanced himself from his once best friend.

  Calen stared down at his mother as though he was seeing her for the first time.

  “Fine. Take Lexi to Ekhart’s estate. You’ll be safe enough there.” Jack glanced around their group. “Reese, will you escort my mother and Lexi to the estate and meet us back at the Olympus Mons Landing Platform. I don’t like splitting us up, but I don’t want to make Bit ride the train more than we have to.”

  Reese nodded once and began guiding the women away. Lexi glanced over her shoulder at her brothers and gave them a little wave before disappearing down the dark street.

  Calen let out a long sigh. Angry at his mother he might be, but the truth was simple—they might not see them again.

  Things were getting complicated.

  Chapter Ten

  Randal slipped into the condo, the door clicking shut behind him sounding ominous even to his trained ears. Jack was probably right. His plan would likely get him killed, but the bullet wound in his shoulder wouldn’t allow him to climb down forty-two flights of rickety ladders and fire escapes. Randal adjusted his injured arm and awkwardly drew his illegal sidearm from his shoulder sling. Jack didn’t know Randal had ignored the city law barring firearms.

  Out of habit, he checked the magazine and flipped off the safety.

  He slipped into the darkest corner of the main room and waited. Waiting was the worst, the hardest part of the chase—knowing the perfect moment to run and not springing before that moment. Randal took a deep breath and worked to slow his heart rate. From where he stood near the door, he heard men muttering, planning their entry.

  Amateurs, he thought to himself.

  Another few seconds ticked by before he heard the jingle of the door handle followed by the subtle tick-tick of someone picking the lock. Randal opened his mouth and slowed his breathing to the barest minimum. The ticking stopped and the door creaked until it bounced up against the dresser they had shoved into the doorway.

  “They’ve blocked the doorway,” one of the men whispered.

  Randal held his breath as he listened to more mumbling, unable to make out what they were saying. They didn’t wait long before they began to push against the door, easing the dresser away. The legs of the dresser slid across wooden floor, the felt pads silencing any friction. Randal rolled his eyes.

  Who decided to use that as a weight? he wondered as he watched in silence.

  A swath of light washed over the entryway, stretching into the formal dining room. Randal watched as first one and then another figure slipped into the condo. His eyes scanned over the dim room, checking the bundles Jack had made to look like sleeping figures. A few more men ducked through the opening, bringing the count up to five.

  Randal eased his grip on the gun, his heart rate increasing as a sixth man stepped into the condo. The men fanned out, their steps nearly silent as they moved with practiced precision. Randal reconsidered his original assessment of their abilities. They moved with the fluid ease of a team accustomed to each other. They knew where each man would be and where each man would move without looking. A few men went to the various bedrooms and checked them, scanning from corner to corner, while others checked around the counters and tables in the main room.

  Once they were moved as far into the condo as they were going to get, Randal made his move. Moving on light feet and working to remain in the shadows as much as possible, Randal moved to the door and slipped into the hallway. He grabbed the door and pulled it shut with a bang, wincing with the pain.

  Randal quick-stepped to the nearest corner as he jerked the medical sling off—he couldn’t fight six men one handed. He ducked behind the first corner in the hallway and pressed himself against the wall, ready to wait. The door burst open and footsteps pounded against the hallway floor. Randal counted the steps, his lips pressing together.

  At just the right moment an arm rounded the corner ahead of the body. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Randal grabbed the arm, bringing his gun-hand down on the outstretched forearm. The other man dropped his own gun in surprise just as Randal brought his knee up into his gut, doubling him over. In a swift move, Randal slammed the butt of his gun down on the back of the other man’s head, dropping him to the ground. Not waiting for the man to get up again, Randal grabbed the intruder’s head and twisted.

  The body went limp and Randal moved, the sound of more footsteps pushing him to run despite the pain in his shoulder. He pressed his gun hand against the wound, the hand coming away wet—he had re-opened the wound with his movements.

  Randal spotted the green glow of an emergency exit sign and increased his speed down the long hallway. He reached the door just as the sound of gunfire erupted over his head. He ducked instinctually as he slammed into the emergency bar and barreled through the door, drywall dust raining down on his head as the bullets buried themselves into the wall by his head.

  He raced down the stairs, falling more than running. As he reached the second landing, he glanced up, happy to see two men above him. He fired at them once to keep their interest and went back to running. His pursuers cursed as they fired at him, missing by a mile.

  I’m getting too old for this, he thought as he skidded across the next landing, yanking the door open.

  He stumbled into the new hallway and raced toward the distant elevator, slowing his tread when the stairwell door didn’t immediately open. Randal glanced over his shoulder, worrying that his pursuers had given up. He turned back to the elevator. Had he given the others enough of a head start?

  A door between him and the elevator opened, the other three armed men appearing, blocking his way to elevator.

  “Shit,” Randal cursed as he spun and retraced his steps.

  The stairwell door opened and his original two pursuers emerged. Randal fired, hitting one in the neck. The man dropped, his lifeblood flowing into his windpipe and choking him. Randal jerked his steps to the side just as the second man fired, the bullet sailing past his head by millimeters. Randal took a wide step to the other side, knowing his opponent would correct his aim while simultaneously firing at the stationary target. The man fell, the bullet lodged deep in the wall behind him.

  Randal jumped over their bodies, right back into the stairwell and slid down the stairs, nearly tripping over his own feet. He tumbled down the next flight of stairs, barely keeping his feet under his tired body.

  Much too old for this, you damn fool, Randal thought as he continued plunging down the emergency staircase.

  He made it down two more flights before he grabbed the door and yanked it open, gunfire ringing out above his head again. He passed into the hallway, the doors of condos opening as concerned residents emerged to the sound of yet more gunfire. Even from within the hallways, Randal could hear the sound of sirens. Someone had called the authorities.

  “Get back into you
r homes,” he ordered as he raced past them, finally ducking into the elevator.

  The residents just stared at him, amazement glazed across their features.

  Randal jammed his thumb against the third-floor button. The attackers appeared from the stairwell their guns still drawn. They fired over the heads of the spectators, sending them scurrying back into their homes. Randal ducked back behind the closing doors of the elevator, grimacing as he slammed his body into his bleeding shoulder. The doors clunked shut and the elevator bounced into motion.

  He breathed a sigh of relief and holstered his gun long enough to check his wound. It had indeed reopened and was weeping blood, but it could wait. He considered the men he had encountered so far. Three were dead, leaving three more. No doubt they were taking the stairs as fast as they could to reach the lobby before him.

  Randal grabbed his gun again just as the elevator slid to a stop and the doors opened to the third floor. Though he heard the voices of the residents awakened by the noise from the sirens below, none of them were dumb enough to leave their apartments. Randal snuck down the hallway to the nearest emergency stairwell. He jogged down the stairs to the ground floor and creaked the door open just enough to see into the lobby. As he expected, he saw the three living members of the team searching the lobby, one man gesturing towards the lobby entrance. Randal waited and, as he expected, the men quickly gave up and made their exit.

  He counted to thirty before crossing the lobby and stealing out the main entrance, turning in the opposite direction of the armed men, quickly disappearing into the shadows of the night street. Randal spotted a mail drop box and pulled his concealed weapon. He quickly wiped it clean of fingerprints and tossed it in with the mail before jogging away into the night.

  Randal slowed his steps, wondering where the crew might be. He mentally kicked himself, suddenly realizing in the rush they hadn’t decided on a rendezvous point. He tried to think logically, but pain and worry began to cloud his judgement.

  “Where would Jack take them to keep them safe?” he asked himself aloud.

  Jack didn’t have the money to pay for a hotel; that Randal knew. He continued to walk, staying mobile as long as he could as he considered his options.