Into the Fire

by Kyla Stone

  Maddox

  Anticipation burned through Maddox’s veins. It was finally time.

  The mission began now. By morning, it’d all be over.

  Maddox gathered his team, a group of tough, hardened warriors in camouflaged fatigues with M4s slung over their shoulders, handguns and tactical knives at their hips. He relayed their final instructions while Reuben shifted impatiently next to him. But he didn’t let his cousin’s insubordination get under his skin.

  These were his men.

  He wondered briefly what they thought of his burn-reddened skin, his hollowed eyes, the blisters healing around his lips. But he didn’t care. They were signs of God’s blessings—the one who should have died instantly, charred into ash, now chosen by God Himself for a singular purpose.

  The men saw it. They knew it. They looked at him with a new respect. They knew what he’d been through, what he’d survived. The fact that he was still standing here was a testament to his hardiness, vitality, and courage.

  With every order, his confidence and determination grew. He was strong and invincible. A nuclear bomb couldn’t kill him. Neither could radiation. The lashes scouring his back only made him more formidable.

  He belonged here. This was his purpose.

  “Whatever you do, don’t harm my sister,” he said. “Kill the old man. Kill everyone with them.”

  Reuben flashed a knowing smile. “And Dakota?”

  “I want her,” he said with relish. “Leave her to me.”

  54

  Maddox

  Maddox stepped onto the porch and banged on the front door with his free hand. He took several swift steps back into the scabby yard, raising his carbine and positioning the stock against his shoulder, ready.

  His men formed a loose semicircle around him, their M4s up and ready to rip the house to shreds.

  It was almost ten pm, well after dark though the air was still muggy. Bugs swarmed. Crickets chirped and frogs sang.

  An old rusty truck sat in the weed-choked driveway. Lights shone from inside the house.

  They were home, but no sentries were posted. No one on guard. Idiots.

  Using his NV goggles, he scanned the property again, more carefully this time. At the end of the driveway, several large bushes had been uprooted and positioned to shield the drive from casual passersby.

  No. Not complete idiots, then. They felt safe because their security lay elsewhere…if they were smart, maybe they’d established a patrol along US 41 to prevent fleeing stragglers from making it this far.

  “Hostiles could come from the road behind us,” he said in a low voice. “Gordon, Stevens, and Hastings, guard our six at the end of the driveway.”

  Footsteps shuffled behind him as the men obeyed. The remaining Shepherds didn’t move or speak. They waited.

  Maddox’s heart hammered against his ribs. His veins ran cold with adrenaline. The pain and the nausea were gone. He felt no fear, only anticipation and growing excitement.

  This was it. He was in charge, no one else.

  He alone determined the fates of every person here.

  He couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

  The saggy screen door slapped open. An older Indian woman with long gray hair slammed out of the house, a crossbow held firmly in her arms, the bolt aimed at his chest.

  He propped the goggles on his forehead and gave a friendly wave. “Is that any way to greet a neighbor?”

  The old lady scowled. “You’re no neighbor of mine.”

  He recognized her from the house-to-house search he’d conducted three years ago in search of Eden. He hadn’t liked her then, either. “You should know that rudeness irritates me. A little politeness from you would go a long way.”

  “I remember you, Maddox Cage,” the woman said. “You and your hooligans have sixty seconds to get off my property, or I’ll send this bolt right through your rotten heart.”

  One of the Shepherds sniggered.

  Maddox frowned. “I think you have that the wrong way around, sister.”

  “No, she doesn’t,” came a voice to his right.

  A second Indian woman had circled around the house and flanked them from the side. She stood twenty feet away, deep in shadows, her shotgun aimed at them.

  “We have you dead to rights,” the old woman said. “Maki has your righthand man in her sights. I’ve got you. You’re both thirty seconds from being dead.”

  “Lower your weapons, turn around, and get out,” Maki said.

  None of the men moved. Reuben kept his own weapon aimed at the old woman, though Maki’s gun was trained on his head.

  “That isn’t how this works,” Maddox said calmly. “You’re right. You can shoot me and Reuben dead right now. But while you’re squeezing those triggers, my men’ll be squeezing theirs. We don’t care if we die. Every single one of my men is willing to die for our cause, including me. Somehow, I think you don’t feel the same.”

  Something moved inside the house. Maddox shifted just slightly to the right, the muzzle of the M4 moving with him, until his sights focused on the figure behind the old woman.

  “Mama?” A girl stood just inside the doorway, dressed in a long white nightgown, her raven-black hair mussed and her eyes sleepy.

  The old woman gasped. “What did I tell you, Tessa? Get back in the house!”

  “Come closer, Tessa.” Maddox smiled. He sensed their fear. He fed off it, felt their courage wane as his strengthened. “Come right up beside your grandma. No one gets hurt if you listen. You understand? There, that’s it.”

  “Don’t you dare lay a finger on her,” Maki said. “Don’t you dare.”

  “Here’s what’s going to happen,” Maddox said once the girl was next to her grandmother, barefoot and shaking. He aimed the carbine at her head and made sure the mother and the grandmother saw it.

  “I don’t want to hurt this little girl, but I need you to listen. If you don’t listen, I’m going to have to do something I don’t want to do. Does everyone understand?”

  “Don’t lower that gun, Maki.” The old woman stared at him, unflinching. “I’m not scared of you.”

  “You should be,” Reuben snarled. Beside him, Maddox could feel his cousin’s body thrumming with tension—he was itching to pull the trigger. Maddox needed to keep him in line.

  “Harrison,” Maddox said. “You see that goat over there? Shoot it.”

  “No!” the girl squealed.

  Harrison twisted, aimed at the nearest goat—a scruffy black-and-white creature contentedly nibbling the weedy lawn—and squeezed the trigger.

  The animal never had a chance to make a sound. It toppled over, already dead.

  “My next shot is the girl. Understand?”

  Reluctantly, the old woman lowered her crossbow. Maki followed suit.

  Reuben gestured to one of the men, who strode forward and quickly grabbed their weapons.

  Maddox breathed easier. This was going perfectly.

  The little girl said something, a strange word he didn’t understand.

  “Tessa, no!” Maki said.

  A deep bark came from inside the house.

  55

  Maddox

  The little girl’s fear transformed before Maddox’s eyes—her jaw set, her black eyes flashing. “Nokosi!” she cried. “Attack!”

  A blur of black and brown burst from the darkened doorway and launched from the porch. In the second it took Maddox to recognize the creature as something between a massive German Shepherd and a Rottweiler, the huge dog had already streaked across twenty feet and launched itself at a man named Puckett.

  Puckett let out an unearthly howl and toppled onto his back, the huge dog’s teeth latched onto his forearm. Blood streamed from his arm in rivulets and matted the dog’s muzzle.

  “Get it off! Get it off me!” Puckett screamed over the dog’s savage snarls.

  Reuben swung around, aiming his M4 at the dog’s head.

  “No!” Maddox held up one hand, stopping his men.r />
  “Maddox!” Reuben said, indignant.

  Maddox returned his attention to the old woman. A distraction would be all she needed to try for the upper hand. She was just a woman, but Maddox knew better than to underestimate her.

  Unlike his men.

  “It’s ripping his arm off!” Harrison cried.

  “Call off your dog,” Maddox said, still calm, though he had to raise his voice to be heard. “I don’t want to kill pets or kids, but I will.”

  The girl shook her head, but the grandma overruled her with a sharp look. The girl’s shoulders slumped. “Nokosi! Release! Come here.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the big dog drop the man’s mangled arm. Obediently, it returned to the porch, pressed itself between the woman and the girl, and faced the Shepherds. The old woman gripped its collar. The dog’s hackles were raised, black lips peeled back as it growled fiercely.

  No doubt, the beast wanted nothing more than to tear them all to shreds with those gleaming, blood-soaked fangs. And yet it was well-trained and disciplined enough to ignore its own primal instincts.

  Maddox respected the hell out of that.

  He’d always wanted a dog. His father and evil witch of a stepmother hadn’t allowed it. He would’ve trained it to fight side-by-side with him, to rip out the throats of his enemies. He smiled at the thought.

  “What are you doin’, man?” Reuben asked. “Kill it!”

  Maddox ignored him. Reuben wasn’t in charge. The Prophet wasn’t in charge. This was his mission, and his alone. If he wished to exercise restraint, to show mercy, that was his prerogative.

  “Any hesitation, shoot the dog, then the girl,” he ordered his men. “Russell, take Puckett back to the compound and bring him to Sister Rosemarie.”

  Russell frowned, irritated and confused, but he obeyed immediately, lifting his bleeding, whimpering comrade to his feet. Together, they limped toward the rear of the property and the boats the Shepherds had stashed in the reeds.

  “What do you want?” the old woman spat between clenched teeth.

  “I think I’ve proven I’m a reasonable man. More than reasonable. Anyone in the house needs to come out and stand beside the girl. If we go in and find anyone else inside, someone dies. And not a goat.”

  The woman nodded, defeated. “Come out, Peter.”

  A boy a head smaller than his sister with the same inky black hair and eyes shuffled out, followed by two burly brown-haired men in their mid-thirties—Maddox remembered the biker brothers. And that there were more of them.

  “You crazy assholes!” The first biker spat. “You think you’re so bad, scaring little girls? “Come fight me like real men.”

  His words didn’t faze Maddox. He knew better than to rise to the bait. “That’s all of you? Harrison, search the house. Thoroughly. Reuben, if we find anyone else, shoot the dog.”

  Reuben grinned maliciously. “With pleasure.”

  “No, you can’t!” the girl wailed.

  “Last chance.”

  The old woman’s hard gaze faltered.

  Harrison moved toward the porch.

  “Wait.” She raised her hands helplessly. “There’s one more.”

  A slight Asian guy with one arm in a sling stepped hesitantly out of the doorway. Harrison gestured with his carbine, and the guy shuffled to the end of the line beside the biker brothers.

  Maddox’s brows lifted as recognition struck him. “I remember you from Bellview Court. You’re with Dakota. What’s your name?”

  The guy’s face contorted in fear—and outrage. “Yu-Jin Park. You killed my friend.

  Her name was Nancy Harlow. She was a good person. And you shot her.”

  “She pointed a gun at me first.”

  “It was empty!”

  “I didn’t know that at the time.” Maddox shrugged carelessly. “Oh, well.”

  This weak, sniveling Park guy was Dakota’s friend. Someone she cared about. Maddox’s heartbeat quickened. A new opportunity had suddenly presented itself.

  He could work with this. Oh yes, he could.

  56

  Maddox

  “Thank you for your honesty,” Maddox said to Haasi when Harrison had finished his search of the house. “Things will go better for you, I promise.”

  He ordered the girl to put the growling dog inside the house and shut the door. Then he asked for the names of his new hostages—they gave them, angrily, fearfully, but they obeyed.

  He returned his gaze to Haasi, the old Indian woman. She was clearly the leader here—woman or not. “I’m here to offer you a truce. My men and I have no quarrel with you. We have no desire to hurt any of you, especially your children.

  “All we ask, and it is a very small request, is that you do nothing. Remain here tonight. Tend to your property. Hug your kids and kiss them goodnight. That’s all.”

  Haasi’s eyes narrowed. “You want us to stay out of your fight with Ezra Burrows.”

  “It’s none of your business. Keep it that way, and we can remain harmonious neighbors.”

  She shook her head. “You’re evil. Pure evil.”

  “You filthy maggots!” snarled the fat biker—Zander. “We should’ve run you out a decade ago!”

  Reuben swung his M4 at the biker. A Shepherd behind him made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat.

  Maddox needed to keep control of the conversation, or he risked losing his men’s respect.

  The thinner, goateed biker named Boyd placed a restraining hand on his brother’s arm. “Shut up.”

  The distant sound of motorcycle engines reached them. Haasi’s expression didn’t change, but Zander’s eyes widened in anticipation—and hope. He thought his brothers were roaring in to save the day.

  He was dead wrong.

  The rest of the Collier brothers were ambushed by the Shepherds guarding the road, M4s aimed at their heads. With their family members held at gunpoint, they had no choice but to lay down their own arms and join the other hostages on the porch. They spat and swore, full of impotent fury, but they obeyed.

  “How many people do they have holed up with Ezra?” Maddox asked. “How many weapons? What are their defenses?”

  “We don’t know.” The tallest, giant of a brother glared down at them. “Ezra’s a hermit. He hates all of us as much as he does you. None of us know a damn thing.”

  “I know that’s a lie.” Maddox slanted his eyes at Park. “You’ve got one of theirs with you right now. If I know Dakota, she saved whoever she could and brought them along like little lost puppies.”

  Park’s mouth tightened.

  “We won’t harm anyone if we don’t have to,” Maddox said in a soothing voice. “We didn’t kill your dog, when we had every right. Eden will be safe. So will Dakota.”

  Haasi snorted.

  “Despite what you may think, I’m a man of my word. We just want what’s ours. Eden belongs at home. This is a family spat. Just help us get what we need and we’ll be on our way. There’s no reason to get your families involved. No reason at all.”

  For a long minute, everyone stood staring at each other, waiting in strained silence to see what the other side would do, who would break first. Reuben shifted restlessly, but remained silent.

  Maddox waited. He was infinitely patient when he needed to be. The long game was often the most rewarding.

  He took one hand off the carbine for a moment and raked his hand through his sweat-dampened hair. Several strands came free and stuck to his fingers. He wiped his hand on his pants.

  Haasi was staring at him, her eyes narrowing. He didn’t care whether every follicle on his head fell out. It was all part of the long game. All of it.

  “I’ll tell you,” Zander said finally.

  “Zander!” Archer said. “What’re you doing?”

  “I’m not letting them kill my family. Not over the likes of Ezra Burrows. No way.”

  “There’s more than Ezra Burrows holed up in that cabin,” Haasi said. “They’ve g
ot a little girl in there, too!”

  “So do I!” Zander shook his head, his expression strained with the weight of his choice. “I’ll do anything to protect my family.”

  “Don’t—” Archer said.

  “I have to. I’m sorry.” Zander stepped forward. His wild, frantic eyes darted from Shepherd to Shepherd before resting on Maddox. “They’ve only got six people. That’s including your sister. With Park here, it’s only five. Only Ezra, Dakota, and this guy Logan know anything about weapons. Logan’s good, though. Don’t underestimate him. He’s a force to be reckoned with.”

  Maddox’s smile widened. “That’s the neighborly spirit I was looking for.”

  Haasi shook her head in disgust. “Shut up, Zander!”

  But Zander ignored her. He was shaking, pale with fear, sweat stains spreading beneath his armpits. “They’ve been preparing for you. Making sandbag fortifications and booby traps in the yard. You’ll have a hard time sneaking up on them. They’ve got a watch posted 24/7.”

  “I’m sure we’ll think of something. The rest I can get from our friend here.” He motioned at Park with the muzzle of his M4. “Park, you’re coming with us. We’re going to need you.”

  “No way.” Park shook his head adamantly. “Go to hell.”

  “You can’t just take him!” Archer took one lumbering step toward Maddox, but several rifles lifted simultaneously, all pointed his way. He hesitated, the aggression leaking out of him as he realized the precariousness of his predicament.

  “You can’t do this,” the giant said again, but there was no confidence in his voice, no authority. Guns beat brute strength every time, and he knew it.

  “We can and we are.” Maddox tilted his chin at Hastings. “Search everyone. Search the house. Confiscate every radio so they can’t warn anyone. Hastings, stay behind and guard them, just to make sure they keep their promises. The rest of you, mow down anyone who stands in our way.”

  57