Page 91 of Heat Unwritten
On my right, pure heat. Daniel didn't take my hand; he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me tight against his side, turning us into a three-legged beast.
"I've got you," Daniel breathed. "I'm the wall. Nothing gets through."
We moved through the gauntlet.
It was a sensory overload of the worst kind. The smell of wet asphalt, unwashed bodies, and ozone. The blinding lights. The screaming. And over it all, my own voice wailing from the van speakers.
"...please help me..."
"Shut that off!" Anders roared, not stopping, just bellowing the command at the universe.
A photographer knelt in front of us, trying to get a low angle shot of my muddy legs.
Anders didn't break stride. He walked right through the man's space, forcing him to scramble backward into a puddle or get trampled.
"Liability!" Anders snapped. "Move or I step on you."
We were ten feet from the SUV. It felt like ten miles.
The drone buzzed violently close, hovering right above Anders’ head.
"Simon," Anders said, calm and deadly.
Simon let go of my hand for one second. He reached into the pocket of his hoodie. He pulled out a rock. A heavy, jagged piece of slate from the garden border.
He didn't hesitate. He threw it.
It was a pitcher's throw. Fast. Violent.
Crack.
The rock clipped the drone rotor. The machine whined, spun out of control, and crashed into the gravel with a satisfying crunch of plastic.
"Oops," Simon snarled. "Artistic difference."
He grabbed my hand again instantly.
We reached the car.
Anders yanked the rear passenger door open. He didn't get in. He stood by the door, holding it open, using it as a final shield, his body blocking the gap.
"Get in," he ordered.
Daniel practically lifted me into the backseat. I scrambled across the leather, sliding to the middle. Simon dove in after me on the left. Daniel climbed in on the right.
Sandwiched. Safe.
Anders slammed the door. The sound was a heavy, finalthunkthat severed the connection to the outside world.
The noise dropped by fifty decibels. The screaming was muffled. The recording was just a dull vibration.
I sat there, shaking, mud smearing the expensive leather seats.
The driver's door ripped open and Anders slid in. He locked the doors instantly.
"Everyone intact?" he demanded, looking in the rearview mirror. His eyes were wild, chest heaving.
"Clear," Daniel rumbled, leaning his head back against the seat, his hand finding my knee and squeezing.
