For the Good of All

by Nicky Charles

  He sank to the ground, his legs feeling wobbly.

  “You okay?” There was concern in her voice, faint worry lines between her brows. She pressed her hand to his face and he instinctively leaned into it before realizing what he was doing. Taking a deep breath, he drew on years of experience to get himself under control. Don’t think, just do what you know you have to do.

  “Yeah.” He handed her the kids, vaguely noting how naturally she tucked them close to her body. “Hold them for a second. I have one more job to do.”

  Stone melted away into the night once more, circling to the back of the compound where the shed was. Soft sounds came from inside, mumbled prayers or perhaps moans of despair. He lurked in the shadows, letting the guards pass by before moving around to the door. Locked but not solidly built.

  Using the blade of his knife, he pried the hinges off. The metal creaked as it gave way, the noise amplified in the stillness of the night. He froze, listening intently, but there was no sound of running feet. Apparently, it was only loud to Lycan ears.

  Setting the door aside, he stepped inside. The man he’d seen earlier in the day was cowering in the corner, his eyes wide with fright, likely thinking Stone was there to kill him.

  Stone shook his head, signalled for silence and cut the ropes that bound him. He noted his bloody wrists, evidence of desperate yet futile efforts to get free.

  “Follow me.” With a beckoning gesture, he indicated for the man to follow him and swiftly led the way back into the jungle. “Run. Get your family and head across the border.” He whispered the instructions hoping the man spoke enough English to understand. It would seem he did. After grabbing Stone’s hand and giving it a brief shake, he left without a backward glance.

  Satisfied he’d done his duty as a Shomer, Stone returned to his main priority, Christina and the children. He’d been gone less than ten minutes but already he could see the lines of tension on her face.

  “Sorry. There was something I had to do.”

  “That’s okay. I knew it had to be important for you to leave.” There was no condemnation in her voice and he gave her a quick smile of thanks as he slung the pack over his shoulders and then collected the rifle. Taking the heavier of the two children, he jerked his head towards the jungle. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Stone led the way down a narrow trail he’d located that afternoon. Originally, it had likely been used by animals and a few locals as an easy route to the river. He’d noted it showed signs of increased usage recently; the vegetation near the edges now sported broken leaves and branches while the smaller plants appeared to have been walked on. With Mendoza using the river as a transportation route, this trail would become a main access. Thankfully it was night and no one was likely to be using it. Forging a trail of their own would have been slow going and time was of the essence, not only because of the chance of being followed but because of a storm that was brewing. Thunder rumbled in the distance and dark clouds were beginning to obscure the small bit of moonlight that had managed to penetrate the overhead canopy.

  He wanted to pick up his pace but could sense Christina struggling behind him. There was a sliding tentativeness to her steps as she tried to traverse the pitch blackness of the path. Once they were farther away, he might dare use the small flashlight but, for now, it couldn’t be chanced.

  The witch does not have our night vision. The wolf reminded him. We need to offer her guidance.

  He whispered hushed warnings of exposed roots, twists and turns. Falling and breaking an ankle was the last thing they needed.

  The children occasionally stirred but didn’t awaken. The buzz of insects filled the air, soft skittering sounds giving evidence that night creatures were hunting. Leaves rustled as the wind picked up, the storm growing ever closer.

  “I don’t think we’re being followed.” Christina murmured. “It’s been quite a while hasn’t it?”

  “Half an hour, perhaps.”

  “I think we’ve made a clean getaway.” Her voice sounded less strained. “While I was waiting for you, I had a vision of children playing. I’m taking it as a good sign.”

  “I thought you said you wouldn’t conjure up a vision about this mission.”

  “I didn’t. It just appeared.”

  He gave a non-committal grunt. She was right. Everything seemed fine, but his wolf was uneasy. It could be the change in the weather or it could be danger lurking. A big cat stalking them? Surely Esteban wouldn’t stoop that low even given his dislike of wolves.

  It could be a member of the drug cartel. He darted his gaze left and right, scenting the air as he listened for anything that might be amiss. His hand rested on his gun, his step slowed.

  The storm hit with an abruptness hard to imagine. Rain came teaming down, hitting the wide leaves that formed the canopy above, each drop sounding like the beat of a drum. The noise filled the air, a cacophony that surrounded them in a bubble of white noise only to be punctuated by the crash of thunder.

  Bits of leaves began to drop around them, flashes of lightning making it seem like they were being subjected to a strobe light. Somewhere nearby, lightning struck a tree and the ground shook, the sound of thunder mixing with the crashing of trees. The scent of ozone filled the air. Stone came to a dead stop; his inner wolf had raised its hackles.

  Tina bumped into him, shouting over the sound of the storm. “This is awful. Shouldn’t we be taking cover somewhere?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I—”

  The sound of running feet and voices reached them over the noise of the storm only not from behind. It was from the direction of the river.

  “Into the bushes!” Stone hissed the order, pushing Christina sideways and then shoving the child he was carrying at her.

  Barely had he set the infant down when three men rounded the bend in the path. A quick glance at their shirtless forms revealed they’d likely been swimming in the river and had been caught in the storm. It also showed the tattooed mark of the drug cartel on their arms.

  Bastards.

  Stone grabbed his rifle and began firing. He had no compassion for those that dealt in death. His first shot killed one man, his second winged another. The third jumped to the side and began firing back with a barrage of bullets.

  Christina screamed. Stone leapt to the side as the path he’d been standing on was filled with bullet holes. He ducked low and ran to the shelter of a tree, firing as he went, hoping to move the fight farther from where the children were hidden. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed. Bullets hit the trunk, bits of bark spraying into the air. He pressed his back to the tree, blinking as rain blurred his vision. Another volley of bullets peppered the ground near his feet.

  That’s right, scum sucker, Stone thought. Use up your ammo.

  He’d been counting the shots. One more and…there! There was a short pause as the sewer rat reloaded. Stone took a deep breath, stepped out of his hiding spot and downed the man with one bullet then dodged back behind the tree. Two dead for sure. He’d wounded the other, but how bad?

  He listened intently, his back pressed to the tree as he strained to hear over the pounding rain. No sound of movement. Cautiously, he turned, peering out from the shelter of the tree. Two bodies. No sign of the man he’d winged.

  Gun at the ready, Stone eased away from his shelter. One step, then another. Still no sign of the missing man. Had he run like a coward? He sniffed the air and then relaxed. The third man had left the area.

  “It’s safe to come out.” He called to Christina as he bent over the first dead man, removing his gun and ammunition. “We’ll have to move quickly. The third guy will be heading back to camp, sounding the alarm.” Stone looked towards the bushes, but Christina hadn’t left the shelter yet. “Christina?” He raised his voice to be heard over the pounding rain.

  She didn’t reply.

  A chill rushed over him as he recalled her scream. “Christina?”

  His feet felt heavy as he forced himself to
walk towards the bush, to bend and part the leaves. No. Not again.

  His silent prayers fell on deaf ears. Christina lay in the mud, face ashen and eyes closed, the children huddled by her side, looking drowsy and bewildered.

  He dropped to his knees, his hand hovered over her and then he slowly reached out and stroked her wet hair from her face. The metallic scent of blood filled the air.

  Chapter 9

  A dark numbness surrounded her. Pleasant and safe, it blocked out all thought, all sensation. She floated in a comforting cloud of nothingness, content to simply exist.

  Something was disturbing her serenity, though, trying to draw her away from the tranquility. A hand stroked her cheek, calloused yet gentle. She leaned into the touch and the cozy cocoon into which she’d retreated began to recede.

  Sensation slowly returned. The sound of thunder, the feel of rain drops on her face. Her clothing was wet and clinging to her skin. She frowned as she realized she was lying on the ground, bits of rock pressing into her back. She stirred, tried to move. Her body felt numb, heavy. A moan escaped her as pain began to push to the forefront of her consciousness.

  “Christina.”

  That was her name, only no one ever called her that unless she was in trouble. No one except…

  “Stone?” She forced her eyes open.

  He was leaning over her, a flash of lightning illuminated his features enough that she could see the rain dripping from his face, note his features set in a hard mask. “You’ve been shot. Don’t move.”

  Shot.

  The word sent a wave of fear through her and recollection crashed down with all the power of the storm that raged around them. The men. The gunfight. Huddling with the children. The sudden feeling of something hitting her leg with the force of a baseball. She’d fallen backwards, hit her head.

  The children!

  She rolled her head to the side and saw them near her. One was still sleeping, the other was awake, a thumb tucked in its mouth, its eyes wide.

  “Don’t worry, baby.” She reached out and stroked its cheek. Poor thing was likely in shock.

  The child grabbed her hand and Tina urged it closer until it was snuggled to her side.

  “Stay still.” Stone growled the words at her and she lifted her head to see what he was doing. He had his knife out, slicing her blood soaked pant leg open before probing the area around the wound with his fingers.

  “No exit point. The bullet’s still lodged in your leg.”

  The idea made her queasy and she swallowed hard, hugging the child closer. “Will you have to take it out?”

  “No. There’s a major artery in your thigh. I could damage it and you’d bleed out.” He rummaged in his pack and pulled out the small first aid kit. “Not much in here. I can disinfect it and put a pressure bandage on it. That will have to do until we can get you to a doctor.”

  Thankfully, it was dark enough that she couldn’t see the wound clearly. She could, however, feel it and bit her lip to keep from crying out as Stone disinfected the area with alcohol wipes. “Now what?”

  “Ideally you’d lay still with your leg elevated until the bleeding stopped.” His mouth was compressed into a straight line and he looked around, frustration radiating from him. “Unfortunately, we don’t have that luxury right now. We have to keep going. Those men were members of the drug cartel. I could tell by the tattoos on their arms. I got two of them, but the third one escaped.”

  “He’ll head back to camp and tell the others.”

  “Exactly. They’ll come looking for us.” His voice sounded as hard as his name. He wasn’t accusing her, but she could connect the dots. If they were caught, it would be her fault.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “This.” She gestured towards her leg, watching his sharp, jerky movements.

  “You didn’t plan on getting shot.”

  “It’s my fault I’m here. I pushed for you to take me along.”

  “I accepted. I needed your help. I still need your help with the kids.”

  But did he really? He could easily carry two small children. “I’m going to slow you down.”

  “Don’t even continue that train of thought.” He fixed her with a cold stare and then continued to work on her leg, his brows drawn together in a frown.

  Tina pressed a kiss to the top of the child’s head while watching the other still sleeping a few feet away. Stone might say otherwise but, if something happened to them, it would be her fault. She tried to hold on to the vision she’d had earlier, the one that showed children playing. They would survive this, unless she’d read the scene all wrong. Had there been dark shadows in the background that she’d missed? Had the children really been happy? She’d assumed so but… Rain mixed with her tears and she blinked, determined to stay strong.

  After a few moments Stone spoke again. “We have some things going in our favour.”

  “Such as?”

  “This storm. The rain will wash away our footprints, the wind is stirring the foliage enough that our trail won’t be as noticeable.”

  “Are we still heading towards the river?”

  “Yep. Once we get there, we’ll travel downstream to the rendezvous location.” He finished applying the bandage and leaned back on his heels. “That’s the best I can do for now. Let’s see if you can stand up.”

  She eased the now sleeping child on to the ground thankful that the overhead canopy was keeping the worst of the rain from them. There were no dry clothes for them to wear. Hopefully the concept that wet clothes caused children to get sick was a fallacy.

  Stone helped her to her feet and she braced herself on his arm. Gingerly, she put some weight on her leg. “I think it’s okay. Just a bit sore.”

  “You’re lying through your teeth, but try to walk.” He released her but kept his hands nearby.

  Gritting her teeth, she moved her leg forward and then tried to take a step. The leg buckled under her weight, excruciating pain radiating through her body. “Ah!”

  “I’ve got you.” Stone caught her and she clung to him, her hands gripping his shirt, her face pressed to his chest as the waves of pain crested and then receded.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  “Nonsense.” He eased her away from his body, his hands holding her upper arms. “You can do it.”

  Tears welled in her eyes and her voice began to quaver as the enormity of the situation sank in. “No. I can’t. You’ll have to leave me here and—”

  “That’s enough!” He gave her a little shake. “You can and will walk. There’s no other option.”

  “But—”

  “Christina.” Her name was accompanied by a low growl as if his wolf were on the verge of getting loose.

  The sound caught her attention. She took a long, slow breath and used one hand to slick her wet hair back from her face, willing herself to stay calm. Falling apart wasn’t going to help the situation.

  “I’m sorry. I—” Her voice hitched, fear still curled in her stomach. She forced it down and tried again. “What do you suggest?”

  Stone gave a nod of approval. “I can fashion you a makeshift crutch. We’ll go as slow as possible.”

  While she had grave doubts about his plan, she didn’t voice them. “Sounds good to me.”

  He helped her sit down, her back against the tree and propped her leg up on his backpack. “Wait here and I’ll find a branch for a crutch.”

  “Aye aye, sir!” She saluted him with an attitude she didn’t really feel. He seemed to appreciate her effort, flashing her a quick smile before disappearing into the night.

  As she waited, she looked at the children huddled nearby. Their eyes were still closed, their breathing even. Whatever drug they’d been given hadn’t worn off yet. It was for the best, though. They had no idea of the danger they were in. Every minute brought them closer to being discovered by the drug lord’s flunkies.

  Stone returned, a suitable branch in his hand. He ripped h
is shirt into strips and wrapped it around the upper portion of the stick to form a pad.

  She smiled weakly. “Isn’t it supposed to be the woman who rips her petticoats to provide the hero with a bandage?”

  “Anytime you want to rip off your petticoats for me, I won’t complain.” He gave her a wink as he helped her up and handed her the makeshift crutch. “The material will provide some padding for your armpit.”

  “Thanks. I’m sure it will work great.”

  “Not likely, but it will have to do.” Stone hitched the backpack over his shoulders, checked his weapons and then hefted the sleeping children into his arms. “All set?”

  She nodded and began following him down the path.

  It was slow going. The ground was wet and slick with mud. The foliage, heavy with water, drooped low, partially blocking their way, forcing them to push through the wet leaves. At least the rumbles of thunder were growing more distant, though the rain continued.

  How far they travelled Tina had no idea, only knowing that when Stone finally stopped she felt near collapse.

  “We’re almost at the river.” Stone glanced at his watch, frowning.

  “That’s good, right?”

  He shrugged. “Yes and no. Following the river is the easiest route, but it leaves us more exposed. We’re not travelling as fast as my original plan had called for. At this rate, we’ll be discovered before we make it back to the jeep we left at the border.”

  “What do we do?” The sick feeling curled in her stomach again.

  “We’re going to head into the jungle, find a place to hole up and rest.”

  “You told me to never go into the jungle. That it was too dangerous.”

  “The jungle or the drug cartel. That’s our choice.”

  “Not much of a choice, there, Stone.”

  “I know.” He readjusted his hold on the children. They murmured sleepily. “We need to find a place to stay before these guys wake up. If they start crying, it will give us away for sure.”

  She pressed her lips together, struggling not to cry herself.