Why the hell is he out here?
As Tova and I draw closer to my uncle, he notices us and calls out, “Say, she gonna be okay?”
“Not sure what it is to you, but yeah, she’s gonna be okay,” I retort, drawing my eyebrows together in a scowl.
Morton slows his pace, seemingly cautious of getting too close to us. “Just heard some rumbling about a girl getting shot with an arrow. Didn’t know I’d actually see the injured girl, or better yet, see her with you.”
“If you rubberneck around the clinic long enough, you’re bound to see the person in question, are you not?” I snipe, not entirely believing his concern.
“I guess you have a point there, Pierce.” He tips his hat toward me.
Before I let my anger bubble up at the fact that he’s gawking and seemingly stalking my girl, I snap, “You take care now, Morton.” Perhaps he’s genuinely concerned, but I doubt it. Shrugging off his impertinence, we continue toward her cabin.
We’re no less than twenty feet from the door when it bursts open, and Tova’s friends all come charging toward her. I fill them in on her injuries, how she’ll have a headache, when her next dose of meds are due, and how to recognize an infection.
As the others continue to fawn over Tova, I pull Adi aside and let her know I’ll be posted outside their cabin tonight, keeping watch. She tells me she’ll have Larson switch off watch shifts with me so I can get some sleep as well. I attempt to beg her off, assuring her I will be fine, but she insists and informs me she will have Larson here by ten o’clock tonight.
True to her word, at ten PM on the dot, Larson strolls up to the cabin, dumping a pile of stuff at my feet in a small clearing. I’m leaning against a large oak tree with my arms folded across my chest. From this vantage, I have an unobstructed view of three sides of the cabin and perform regular perimeter checks.
“Ready for a catnap, Pierce?” Larson teases as he nods at the pile he’s placed at my feet.
“No! I told your girl I’d be fine. If you want to sleep first, be my guest,” I bite out, aggravated they think I can’t protect Tova on my own.
“Just to let you know, ‘My girl’ has a name. Adelaide.” He props himself up against the tree opposite mine. I notice a shadow of something he’s holding. “She means well. I can assure you she’s not trying to offend you. And just to let you know, I’m not taking the first sleep shift. I know if I sleep first, you’ll never wake me up. You can’t stay awake on watch all night and think you’re going to be alert enough for training tomorrow. Now let me take first watch; Jace is coming next, then Kage is taking a turn, and last, we’ll get you.”
“What do you mean, Jace and Kage, are taking shifts?” I ask, kicking off the tree and uncrossing my arms. I walk to the center of our little clearing, the moon shining through the break in the canopy above.
“They’ll be here shortly. I let them in on what you were planning, and they offered to help. We’ll take two-hour shifts. You’ve had a rough day, and we’re helping, like it or not.” Tossing me the object in his hand, I reach up and grasp it, it’s a pillow. He directs, “Stop being pig-headed and sleep for a while. I brought a tent and a few sleeping bags.” He points to where he deposited the load of camping supplies.
Punching the cushion, I vent, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep. My adrenaline has been on overdrive all day. I have no idea if someone is after her. How am I supposed to sleep?”
Moving from his tree, he approaches me and places a hand on my shoulder. “Listen, man, I know that you’re concerned for Tova’s safety, but you’ll be in no shape to protect anyone without getting some rest. You’ll have an adrenaline crash as soon as your head hits that pillow. Trust me,” he says, giving my shoulder a slight squeeze.
Begrudgingly, I shuffle over to the mound of supplies and set up the tent without further argument before stumbling inside. I guess Larson knows what he’s talking about because I don’t remember anything after my head hits the cushion. It was lights out.
11
Tova
In the four weeks since the attack, there hasn’t been a single sighting of a possible rogue hunter. I’ve successfully convinced the guys they don’t have to stand guard at the cabin every night.
Rolling my right shoulder, there’s only a slight twinge of sharp pain, indicating that it’s healing up nicely. The stitches have been removed, but my scars are still fresh and an angry beefy red, which is a good thing because that indicates there’s no infection. The Decision has been made. Now, Adi, Dani-Jo, and I are in the arena for the second week getting ready for our mock battle between the Superiors and trainees. This week I’ll be practicing with an M48 ax. This one has a rubber ax head, not a real one, so any hits won’t do too much damage but will still hurt.
A sly smile creeps up the sides of my mouth, and I rub my hands mischievously together as I think, This should be fun.
We’re about to be set loose in the arena, which is nothing more than a ring of cement walls with two gates on opposite sides. Various targets are placed within the arena, some in the shape of animals and wild beasts. Some are actual bullseye marks, and the other targets are the Superior Protectors. There are two teams, the Superiors, and the trainees; whichever team takes out the most targets at the end of this two-hour cat-and-mouse game are deemed the winners. At the end of each week, the team with the most losses will be forced to wear pajamas to the Friday night campfire while the winners get the luxury of indulging in steak dinners while the loosers get hot dogs.
Shaking my head at that thought, I study the forest around the arena as a distraction, taking in the gigantic oaks with their thick, dark green leaves. Looking up, I squint at the exceptionally tall pines and the less than perfect shade they offer. The dense foliage is going to make it difficult to sneak around quietly. I notice a few downed trees, old rusty vehicles scattered in the underbrush, and some random debris on the ground. We’re all decked out in camouflage from head to toe, war paint all over our skin; only the whites of our eyes are visible. My adrenaline is pumping through my veins, and I can feel my heart pounding against my chest.
The buzzer sounds, and we’re off.
Tiptoeing from the exit, I move away from my group. Making my way toward the river that runs right through the arena, I hope the sound of the flowing water will muffle any noise from my movements. Squatting behind a large oak, I analyze my surroundings. There’s a fake Sunclouded Leopard just to the left of an old pickup truck.
Making a break for the truck, I’m sought out and pelted with rubber bullets to my right shoulder blade. The bullet rips open my newly closed wound, knocking the breath out of me. Tumbling to the ground, I use the momentum to roll to the nearest downed log I can find for cover. Trying to catch my breath, sucking in air rapidly, I reach for my back with my left hand to assess where there’s a fiery burning sensation. Sure enough, touching my shirt, there’s sticky liquid staining it. I bring my fingertips in front of my face and spot fresh, bright red blood.
“Son of a biscuit eater,” I puff, realizing the wound is oozing. Screw that. I won’t let them take me down. I’ll destroy this Sunclouded Leopard and the jerk that shot me. Finally able to catch my breath, I look over the log to my surroundings and plan my next move. I have to get to the truck for shelter, take out the leopard, and demolish my attacker.
Ten feet away, I can do this. I’m fast. It’s only a small amount of blood.
Scrambling to the door of the pickup, I dive inside the driver’s side window. Peeking out the passenger side window, I realize my ax is within throwing distance of the leopard. I look to my left, then to my right, and let my weapon fly. My aim is thankfully true, despite my injury, and the artificial leopard goes down. I crawl out of the truck to retrieve my ax. Fully equipped once again, my next mission is to find the idiot who ripped open my damn wound. Crawling on my belly, I’m finally able to crouch behind the rusted remains of an airplane wing. I sit as still as possible to watch and listen. I’m not sure how long
I sit there, but eventually, I notice a bush rustling.
Yes! This prick is going down.
I sneak around to the end of the wing, and right before I advance on my new target, I catch out of my periphery, a large form barreling straight at me. Scrambling to my knees and gripping my ax, I’m grabbed from behind with sweltering hands covering my mouth. I’m about to bite the person’s fingers when I feel lips near my ear, sending chills up my entire body.
“Don’t move a muscle; he’ll see you and shoot again,” a voice whispers. Tilting my head in the direction of the low tone, Pierce winks at me. My stomach flip-flops and my heart pounds even harder as fire courses through my veins.
I huff, “How do you know he’ll shoot me again and that I won’t take him out first?”
“I know his tricks; he’s not in the bush. He’s about twenty feet away behind an Oak. He’s tied a fishing line to that bush and tugs on it, making you think that's where he’s hiding. Once you reveal your position, he’ll unload on you. He’s been watching your every move since you left the group. Word to the wise, never leave your group and go solo. That’s the fastest way to die out there on a hunt or outside the wall for any reason.”
Shrugging Pierce off, I demand, “Who is this ‘He’ you’re referring to?”
“Kage,” he grunts.
Scooting back up against the wing, I grumble, “What the hell is his problem? Is Kage trying to kill me? Why does he hate me? He’s always seeking me out in the arena. Last week, he got me in the left shoulder before I could lose the bolt from my crossbow. I had a wicked bruise for days after that one. Today, I was about to take down the leopard with my ax, and he shoots me in my bad shoulder, splitting it back open.” I pull at my wet shirt. “I won’t let him win! I’ll press on toward every target in front of me until I can’t move if that’s what it takes.”
Inching up next to me, Pierce explains, “He doesn’t hate you. He notices your fierce determination, and it’s his goal to make you better, stronger, and stealthier. If he didn’t see potential in you, he wouldn’t be so hard on you.” He leans in and breathes, sending goosebumps up my arms. “Putting yourself in harm’s way just to prove a point will only hurt you in the end. He knows whoever shot that arrow at you is still out there. He wants you to be able to protect yourself.”
I nudge my left shoulder into his chin. “Well, what do you suggest I do?”
Scanning the area, Pierce devises a plan to climb one of the trees behind the wing. “We need to get to higher ground. Once you have a clear shot, aim your ax for his shoulder. I’ll cover you,” he instructs, motioning with his gun.
Thank God my legs are strong because my upper body is pretty much worthless right now. I grab a branch and shimmy up by pushing off with my legs. Thankfully, the blood from my wound isn’t leaving a trail, so I’m not overly worried about anyone else tracking me at the moment. I’m focused solely on taking out Kage. Pierce has to give me a little push a couple of times, but I manage well enough independently.
Once we’ve scaled at least seven limbs into the canopy of the tree, Kage is in clear view. Nodding my head in his direction, I check that Pierce is ready for our attack. He gestures once again with his Glock, giving me the go-ahead. I pull back my arm as far as my injury will let me and release the ax in Kage’s direction with as much power as I can muster; simultaneously, Pierce fires his pistol.
“Stop! Stop! I surrender,” Kage commands, diving for cover.
The buzzer sounds, indicating the two-hour challenge is over. Thank God. My arm is now throbbing in pain, and I desperately need to get my shoulder bandaged, not to mention I smell like manure and need a shower.
“Let me give you a hand,” Pierce offers, reaching out for me from his perch.
We successfully scale back down the tree limb by limb, Pierce landing on the ground first while I’m sitting on the lowest branch facing him. Reaching up for me, he places his warm hands under my arms and lifts me from the branch. Sliding along his body, every part of me grazes against his. I quickly realize just how close we are when I feel a rigid length press against my belly. My face flushes. My breath is coming in fast and hard. Good God, I want to kiss him, but I’m not sure. Our foreheads are touching softly. I tilt my chin and meet Pierce’s intense gaze as he presses further into me, leaning in so close I can feel his hot breath on my cheek. Frozen in uncertainty, my body stiffens. Apparently, reading my unspoken language, Pierce takes a couple of steps back.
“Do you mind if I look at your wound?” he asks quietly, gesturing toward my back.
“Ew, it’s going to be gross. I’m sweaty, stinky, and sticky with a mixture of blood and dirt. Can’t I shower first?” I scrunch my nose and crease my brows.
“I just want to see how bad it is and make sure you’re not going to need stitches again,” he presses.
“Ugh, fine.” I turn my back to face him. He lifts my shirt, peeling it away from my scar.
Pierce shouts a curse.
Startled at his response, I peek over my shoulder. “What? How bad is it?”
“I’m going to pound his cocksucking face in.” Pierce rubs his sizzling finger along the entire length of my scar. “The whole thing is open. There’s flesh just hanging by threads, and a gaping hole at the top of the scar. The entire laceration is probably going to need stitches. Your shirt did a good job of sealing off most of the bleeding, but now that I’ve removed it from the wound, blood is trickling pretty good. I’ll apply a pressure bandage at the first aid tent outside the arena, but we need to get you to the clinic quickly. The last thing you need is an infection on top of everything else,” he rants.
“Just Jim Dandy. Mr. Hughes is going to write me out for at least a week. I can’t stay cooped up in that cabin any longer. Why did your sorry excuse for a brother have to do this?”
Tears are welling up in the bottom of my eyes. Pierce traces my scarred eyebrow with the pad of his thumb, and it’s sweltering. I’m not sure if I’m super sensitive or if Pierce just has really warm hands.
I look up into his eyes as he consoles, “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Rest is the best thing for you at the moment.”
Fighting the urge to lean into his warm palm, I whimper, “Pierce, you have no idea. You think rest is the ‘best’ thing for me…I don't rest. I don’t sleep. I can’t. Keeping me confined is the worst possible thing for me right now.”
He pulls me snuggly into a tight embrace, careful not to cause more pain in my back. I can’t help but release the unshed tears. They stream down my face, soaking his shirt in a matter of minutes. He strokes my back with the tenderest touch as I sob, letting out all of my frustration.
Once my trembling and sniffling subside, he gingerly kisses the top of my head.
He exhales deeply. “Want to talk about it?”
“No, not really,” I rasp with a shaky voice.
Sighing, with his cheek pressed to my hair, he doesn’t push me on it. “Okay, we need to dress your wound. Are you okay to walk?”
Pulling slightly back from his embrace, knowing I must look like death warmed over, I simply wobble my head up and down in a ‘yes’ motion. He slips his fingers in-between mine, and we proceed to the exit.
12
Pierce
Hand in hand, I do my best not to singe her. I’ve gotten my fire to simmer down, and now our fingers are locked. We’re finally leaving the clinic only to be bombarded by her friends Adi, Dani-Jo, and Cora.
Adi charges us. “Do you want me to kill Kage? I can bury the body where no one will find it!” I’m pretty sure she’s only half kidding; the sparkle in her eyes tells me she’ll do whatever it takes to defend Tova.
Tova giggles then yelps, “Oowww!” Grimacing, she hisses, “Don’t make me laugh, and no need to threaten anyone’s life. I’ll be fine. He’s just hard on me to make me a better Protector, but thanks, Adi. I know you’ve always got my back.”
“Pierce, I can take her from here,” Adi declares.
“She needs to lie
down and take it easy, like Mr. Hughes advised,” I instruct.
“You think I don’t know that? She also needs to shower, and I can help her with that,” she sasses, placing a hand on each hip. “She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of. Always have. Always will.” Stealing Tova’s left arm, Adi slings it around her neck to help her hobble up to their cabin.
“Hint taken. I know when I’m not wanted.” I throw my arms up in surrender, and I’m pretty sure a spark emanates from my palms, but it thankfully goes unnoticed.
“I’m not saying you’re not wanted, Pierce. You’re a good guy. I’m just saying I’ve got it from here,” Adi reaffirms, looking over her shoulder back at me.
Tova stops them in their tracks and turns to face me. “Thank you, Pierce, for everything. I’ll get cleaned up and do my best to rest. Mr. Hughes has written me out of training for an entire week, so I’ll catch up on reading. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
“He said you couldn’t practice and need to rest, but he also said you could go out and about if you take it easy. I’ll come by later and check on you and see if you’re up for a walk,” I say, with more than a little hope in my voice.
“I appreciate it, Pierce, more than you know, but I promise I’ll be fine,” she says, slipping a small smile.
After dinner, I head to Tova’s cabin to check in on her. When I arrive, the girls tell me she went to her mom’s house several miles from here. Dani-Jo gives me detailed directions. Clutching my fists, I shove my hands in my pants pockets and then begin my trek to her farm.
Protecting Tova (Iron Mountain Book 1) Page 6
