Beasts of Byron (Silvers Invasion Book 2)

by Alex Mersey

  More or less the same conclusion he’d drawn. Chris quickly filled in the remaining blanks, about the Silvers’ two visits and the people they’d taken, including Doc Nate, about the whole ‘you’ll walk free if you’re useful’ debate.

  “Don’t even ask,” he said as the question formed on Williams’ lips. “We have no idea why or where they go. The Silvers come in threes and line us up and pick and choose. Oh, and we think they specifically don’t want any red-tags. They don’t use the red laser to make it easier to lead us out and…” He glanced at the sleeping men again. “They leave those guys alone.”

  “No one resists?” queried Williams.

  “Mr Henderson was the first and last.” Chris waved a hand over the pile of ashes. He didn’t say anything more, still felt green around the mouth whenever he thought about the old man.

  “Christ,” Williams muttered under his breath.

  The uncharacteristic curse slammed Chris in the chest, knocked another nail into their collective coffins. If Williams was struggling to keep his emotions locked down, then the situation was about as bad as it could possibly get.

  Williams collected himself and bent his head toward Chris so he could speak in a low voice while keeping his eyes on the room. “You can’t trust anything the Silvers or the soldiers say. Do you understand?”

  “I’ve already figured that one out,” he muttered.

  “There’s no walking free out of here.” Williams slanted a hardboiled look his way. “We can’t let them take you.”

  Chris’ jaw stiffened. “You need to understand, there’s no choice and no resisting.”

  “They can’t pick you if they can’t see you.”

  “What the hell?” He shifted to face Williams, looked up to reach his stare. “You want to hide me behind your back?”

  Williams didn’t blink. He didn’t confirm, but he didn’t deny either.

  “I’m not a coward.” Chris spoke slow and clear so there’d be no misunderstanding. “I won’t hide while someone else takes my place if it comes to that. Anyway, it would never work. The Silvers aren’t idiots. I seriously mean it, Williams, you try anything and you’ll end up as an ash pile.”

  “I won’t do anything stupid.”

  “You won’t do anything, period,” Chris insisted.

  “Listen to me, then, this is important,” Williams said after a short pause. “We know how to kill the Silvers. A shot directly to the eye, that’s their weakness.”

  “You’ve killed one?”

  “McAllister did, or maybe Woods. I missed some of the detail.”

  Chris grabbed his arm, too excited to argue that Williams never missed any details. “You have to tell people.”

  “Most definitely not.” Williams’ gaze sharpened on him. “They can’t do anything with the knowledge right now, Chris, they don’t have weapons.”

  “But it can’t hurt for them to know.”

  “The right knowledge at the wrong time turns men into fools,” Williams said gravely. “We can’t afford to stir the mood inside here.”

  “We could all use a little cheering,” Chris protested.

  “Like you said, the Silvers aren’t idiots. Neither is Captain Davis. If anything changes to put them on guard, that puts McAllister and the whole rescue op at risk.”

  A warning call came from across the room.

  Williams glanced that way.

  “It’s time,” Chris whispered, his throat tight. “They’re coming to take more of us.”

  Without a word, Williams slipped away to take a look down the passage. Chris already knew what he’d see, what no one would hear until the Silvers were at the gate. The bastards were so damn silent.

  Chris’ heart began to race and the crescendo of raised voices didn’t help. Even those who actually believed this was their chance to get out of this prison, to be set free, added to the nervous energy that thickened the air with noise and tangible fear.

  He looked for Bran, found him hovering over Jake. The unlikely friendship was a mystery to Chris, but he didn’t begrudge Jake the little extra comfort and he hoped the responsibility would prevent Bran from lashing out at the Silvers.

  A huddle had formed near the gate, everyone’s attention on the approaching Silvers. Except for Williams.

  He returned to Chris, grabbed him by the arm, tugging him deeper into the corner. “We need to talk.”

  “What did you…” Chris started to turn about as Williams fell in behind him “…see?”

  Williams moved to stay at his back but maybe it wasn’t Williams after all because an arm wrapped around Chris, pinning down his arms, and an elbow lock gripped his throat, slamming his head back against a hard chest and he couldn’t see no matter how high he stretched his eyes.

  He tried to squirm, to fight back, to scream for help, but no sound came out and suddenly his vision went out of focus and it felt like he was swimming in waves of black and grey.

  “I’m sorry,” a voice said at his ear and there was no mistaking it.

  Williams.

  That was the last thing Chris remembered before everything went black.

  - 17 -

  Beth

  Time ticked like a bomb inside Beth’s chest. Sean had driven hard, Little Falls to the South Mountain Reserve in just over an hour, but still every second dragged. Every breath Alli took inside those walls could be her last.

  Beth’s heart ached when she thought about the others, especially Lynn and Johnnie, Doc Nate and Chris and Williams. But the ache pressed harder for Alli, crushed her soul and bled her dry. She’d toughened her skin and grown callouses over all her weaknesses, but she’d never be strong enough to outlive her sister.

  Anything else, but not that.

  Beth blinked hard, gathered her focus and shook off the web of dark misgivings. Pressed flat to her stomach on the apex of a rubble mound, she scanned the skyline of broken buildings for trigger-happy lookouts while Sean crept closer to a crumbled wall so he could peer down the road. Cassie had remained behind to guard the tactical vehicle, parked a good hike back from the Medical Center. They couldn’t risk exposing the goods prematurely else Clint would just take without asking.

  Directly across the road from them was the collapsed hospital wing beneath which Clint had established his new headquarters. The entrance wasn’t a doorway, as she’d originally thought when she’d been led in blind-folded, but a blown-out hole that fed into the stairwell. No guards stood sentry, no movement in the road or shadows, but Beth knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

  As if on cue, Sean crept back to her. “On our three o’clock,” he said in a low voice. “Window on the second floor. I couldn’t see how many, just shadows moving there.”

  Beth’s gaze shifted in that direction. Although the wall blocked her line of vision, the angle from her three o’clock would be perfect. “Smart, that’s where they’re guarding the entrance from.”

  “So how do we let them know we’re friendly?” muttered Sean.

  “We’re not,” she reminded him. “We killed one of them and sent the other home with his tail between his legs.”

  “Maybe he never made it back and Clint thinks they ran off with the jeep.”

  Beth sent him a glare. “Is that supposed to make me feel better about what I did?”

  Just then, an unseen gunman opened fire and the rubble around them exploded. Beth flung her arms over her head, her heart hammering in her throat.

  “Down!” shouted Sean. “Move. Now!”

  The commands reached her between the static bursts.

  Move where?

  The shots seemed to be coming at her from all sides, her entire body jerking with each fresh round that shattered the air and sprayed her back and thighs with debris.

  Something tugged at her ankle—someone—and suddenly she was swept into a landslide that scraped and plucked and snagged. The rapid firepower still reverberated inside her skull, still ripped around her, but somehow she slid to the bottom of the mound alive.r />
  Sean grabbed her by the wrist and yanked with such force, she was surprised her shoulder didn’t pop out. She barely had time to register she was on her feet when he shoved her down again behind a solid slab of concrete and practically fell on top of her. The firing continued in three-shot rounds, chipping away at the slab at their back.

  Breathing hard, Beth scrabbled out from under Sean while her fingers fluttered with the rifle strap to release the clip. She felt slightly better with the M4 in her hands, with her finger on the charger. Sean had his weapon in hand, too, and the look on his face was about as grim as she felt.

  “Hold your fire,” bellowed from beyond their line of defense.

  The onslaught ceased and Beth could actually hear herself breathing, wheezing. She hadn’t really slept in 48 hours, hadn’t eaten much, but adrenaline pumped nervous energy through her veins and kept her sharp, alert, ready to spring up and take on Clint and all his goons if she had to.

  Of course, that would defeat the purpose of their visit.

  She eased the strap from her shoulder and set her rifle down.

  Sean pressed a hand to her arm, his voice low and urgent, “Wait.”

  “Now or never.” She exchanged a look with him and grimaced, slapped her hands behind her head and twisted around to face forward as she inched upward. “Don’t shoot! I’m unarmed.”

  Three men crested the mound of rubble, weapons pointed. To her dismay, she recognized the one with stringy brown hair and fluff on his chin. George Briar. The guy they’d sent back to Clint on foot. At least he’s not dead. Unfortunately that brought her little comfort right now.

  Clint was a beat behind his men. His gaze landed on Beth and he stopped short. “I would have saved my breath if I’d known it was you.”

  She flinched.

  “And I see you brought company,” he drawled, his gaze shifting left.

  “Clint,” Sean said as he edged around from behind the concrete slab.

  Instead of returning the greeting, a scowl shadowed Clint’s eyes.

  One of the muscle men, dressed in jeans and a leather vest, waved his rifle at Sean. “Stop right there.”

  Sean froze.

  “We just want to talk,” Beth said.

  Clint’s gaze slid to her, off her as he turned his back and strode off with the order, “Bring them.”

  “Step forward,” the leather vested man shouted as the trio shuffled down the mound of rubble. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”

  Beth used the opportunity to catch up to Sean. “The young guy with long brown hair, that’s George Briar,” she said under her breath. “He’s the one from the jeep that we let go free. Clint knows.”

  “That would explain our cool reception.”

  “This is bad.”

  “It could be worse,” he said. “We’re still alive.”

  She didn’t look to see if that came with a smile, her eyes trained on the approaching men. They carried their weapons like a natural extension, one-handed, fingers within easy reach of the trigger. The leader with the leather vest was bald and clean-shaven. Ropey muscles shortened his neck and thickened into the hulking mass of his shoulders. The man following on his heels was hard and lean, every inch of skin that showed covered in black-ink tats. By comparison, George Briar looked like a pup with pinchable cheeks and softly-rounded shoulders. The other two were bad ass and they wore it like a favorite fashion accessory.

  Despite her obvious predicament, appreciation for what these men brought to the table brewed inside Beth. If we can convince Clint to help us.

  The three men gathered in a loose semi-circle in front of them. The leader cocked his head, considered a moment, then ordered them to strip their tops. “We forgot to bring our zip ties,” he said with a sneer.

  “Go to hell,” Sean growled, probably on behalf of her modesty.

  “Just do it,” Beth said, conscious of the sun sliding off into the horizon and the time-bomb ticking inside her chest. She pulled her tee off and tossed it over. These goons were welcome to leer at her sports bra, so long as they led the way to Clint while they did so.

  Briar took perverse pleasure in binding her hands behind her back. He yanked and jerked unnecessarily, made sure to cut off the circulation in her wrists with the knot he tied.

  Pins and needles spread up Beth’s arms, but she didn’t care. Maybe she didn’t even blame him, although she could have argued that she’d let him go free, she’d let him live.

  Leather Vest checked behind the concrete slab and retrieved their discarded weapons with an abrupt laugh. “You should have used these while you had the chance.”

  “We didn’t come here looking for a fight,” Sean said.

  “You didn’t have to,” he said with a sidelong look at Beth. “Your little lady friend already took care of that.”

  “What would you have done?” she demanded. “If someone ambushed you and stole your jeep, what would you have done?”

  He gave another derisive laugh. “I sure as hell wouldn’t have handed myself right back to the bastards.” He arched a brow at her.

  Beth looked at him in mutinous silence. If he was waiting for a clever comeback, she had nothing. She happened to agree with him, one hundred percent. Unfortunately, desperate times called for stupid measures.

  He gave up on her and strode up ahead.

  The inked man shoved Sean to get him walking. Beth didn’t wait for her own invitation from Briar. Not that it stopped him from prodding her. She staggered like an ungainly rooster, head jutting forward with her wings clipped.

  As she regained her balance, Briar’s voice pecked at her ear from behind. “Not so high and mighty now, are you?”

  “My hands were tied last time, too, and yet I still got the better of you,” she said, heard the smirk in her tone and already regretted it.

  His two friends let out gruff, loud laughs.

  “Bitch,” Briar hissed and thumped the heel of his palm viciously between her shoulder blades.

  She tumbled head first. The ground rushed up and there was nothing she could do. She cried out, tried to roll, but her face smashed into gritty bits of brick and mortar. Pain exploded in her jaw and lashed down her spine.

  “What the fuck’s your problem?” shouted Sean. He dropped down beside her. “Hey, you’re okay?”

  Beth bit down on a groan as she took stock, licked her tender lips and tasted blood. Her chin felt bruised and her neck was already stiffening. Shit.

  She twisted her body to push to her knees, took one look at the storm in his Sean’s eyes and shook her head. “I’m fine, it doesn’t matter.”

  “These men are pigs,” he muttered, his expression darkening further as he watched, helpless, while she struggled to her feet.

  “Sean, let it go.”

  Ignoring her, he turned on Briar. “Do you feel real strong now, beating on a lady who can’t even defend herself?”

  Briar’s face soured. “Fuck you,” he spat and raised his rifle.

  “No!” Beth screamed.

  And, finally, Leather Vest intervened. “Cool it, Briar. The boss wants these two alive.”

  “Ain’t like he’d care if they battered,” the inked man said with a shrug.

  Briar took that to heart and, before any of them saw it coming, cracked the rifle stock against Sean’s temple.

  He grunted, blinking rapidly.

  “Sean!” Beth rushed up to him.

  “Yeah, I’m…” His jaw squared as he bit down on his back teeth. Blinked again, long and hard. “I’m good.”

  She examined him carefully. The blow hadn’t split skin, but a bruise was already swelling above his left eye.

  “Okay,” she breathed out. Butted shoulders with Sean and crooked her head to look at him. “Should I ask how many of me you see?”

  He grinned weakly. “One.”

  “Liar.”

  Leather Vest took charge after that and there we no more incidents as they were marched to Clint’s buried lair. The oth
er two men stayed behind as he shoved them inside. The white-washed room chilled Beth’s bared skin with a déjà vu style flashback. The last time she’d stepped inside here, bound and powerless, Clint had taken her jeep. What would he take this time?

  Clint stood with his back to the wall beneath the slit windows, watched their rough entry without comment. If she’d hoped he’d object to their mishandling, she would have been sorely disappointed. But she’d been here before. She expected nothing, except maybe a devil’s handshake.

  He exchanged a nod with his man. “Don’t go far.”

  “I’ll be right outside,” Leather Vest said and left, slamming the door shut behind him.

  “Your standards have slipped,” Sean said with a fleeting glance around the stark room. “And I’m not talking about the accommodations.” He looked at Clint. “Your men are pigs and cowards.”

  Clint locked eyes with him in silence, then that stone cold gaze came to her, stuck like a dagger in her gut, and it hurt. A physical ache that hurt worse than her jaw and busted lip. Until this moment, until the brutal disinterest she looked into strangled it, she hadn’t realized that a small part of her had genuinely still believed in Clint. Honestly believed that somewhere beneath that weathered exterior hid the kind of man who drew the line at abusing women and turning his back on innocent children.

  Her and Sean both.

  They’d staked their lives on it. They’d staked hundreds of lives on it. She’d staked Alli’s life on it.

  We’re such fools.

  Clint strode up to her, stepped around. She turned with him in a dance that lasted mere seconds before she felt the tug at her hands and stilled.

  Using only marginally less force than Briar, he freed her hands and slapped the tee over her shoulder. “Put some damn clothes on.”

  Bristling at the accusatory tone, she rubbed feeling back into her wrists before slipping the tee over her head. What did he think? That she’d purposely strutted around half naked for the sheer hell of antagonizing his men? She held her tongue, though.

  Don’t give up. One way or another, we have to make this work.