Page 89 of Beyond Redemption

“You good?” Thomas called to him, crouching behind a structure.

Bodhi lifted a hand in acknowledgment, keeping low, his face coated in grit and sweat, focus locked forward.

“Where to?” I asked, adjusting to ease the pressure in my knees as I crouched.

“They’ve pushed the Carlisis this way, we should dig in here,” Kansas said. “North and West quads are controlled and garrisoned.”

I was moving before she finished, but Thomas pulled me back.

“Liis,” he began, already bracing for my response to what he hadn’t yet said. “You should stay with Bodhi, near the bunker. They need the back up and”—he paused, seeing my expression—“Don’t give me that look. If the platform had collapsed with both of us on it, our daughter would be an orphan right now.”

“We discussed this,” I said.

“I know but…”

“Thomas, there are already so many of us underground waiting for the militia to save them. I’m not that girl. If you wanted that girl, you should’ve married that girl.”

Thomas’s concerned expression softened into a grin. “I married the girl I wanted.”

I pressed a quick peck to his mouth. “Good, it’s settled. Let’s go.”

We cut across the yard together, slipping behind a damaged utility vehicle and then a half-collapsed stack of cinderblock. A burst of automatic gunfire tore through the truck bed behind us, metal screaming as rounds punched through. I dropped without thinking, one knee hitting dirt, sending shots from under the axle while Thomas used the engine block to take the second man in the pair attempting to bracket us. The first was already down. The second folded backward over the hood of a sedan and then disappeared behind it.

“Move!” Kansas ordered.

I scrambled up from the ground, Thomas pulling me to my feet as we ran low through a thick haze of residual smoke and dust, using whatever cover we could. The distinction meant life or death. Wood failed, concrete held. I cut right as he cut left, offsetting our angles without needing to think about it, then met him again behind a low retaining wall near the eastern lane.

From there, the problem came into focus. The Carlisis had found a seam. Marcel’s defense accounted for it quickly, positions adjusting, pressure building until the opening began to close.

“Three behind the loader,” I said.

“I’ll go,” Thomas said.

“Two more in the drainage ditch.”

Kansas crouched, moving quickly. “On it.”

Thomas worked the trigger, aiming at the men behind the loader, holding them in place. I cut behind, staying tight to their blind side as I closed the distance. As we’d hoped, they focused on Thomas, firing in short bursts, failing to check their rear.

I came up on them before either turned.

The first dropped where he stood. The second had just begun to pivot but didn’t make it through the motion. He fell on his face, so hard and at such an angle that it might’ve broken his neck were he not already dead.

Kansas focused on the ditch and engaged the pair there, forcing them off their approach. One tried to withdraw and took a round before he cleared the incline. The other flattened too late. A heavier caliber tore through their cover, mud and debris kicking up as he disappeared from view.

Kansas turned and smiled, seeing her sister, Spenser, standing a few feet away. A moment later, her smile faded, an insincere glare replacing it. “I had him, asshole.”

“Yeah, but I got ’em first,” Spenser said with a wink. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Kansas said, pretending to be both disappointed and annoyed.

Spenser rushed away to her next position, leaving Kansas looking a bit lost. She snapped out of it the moment she heard Marcel’s voice.

The General had stepped into the open, his voice cutting through the gunfire as he called positions and drove his men forward. “Arizona Recon!” he yelled, drawing the last word out. “Right, hold and cover! Left flank, advance! Forward line, push them in!”

The response was immediate, units advancing in short bounds as the Carlisis gave ground across the breach and the interior positions began reclaiming what had been lost.

For a moment, I was hopeful, but the momentum didn’t hold. Incoming intensified from the perimeter, heavier and more coordinated than before, and a fresh element pushed through the breach using smoke and wreckage to mask their approach. Our forward drive stalled as Marcel’s men were forced toabsorb the pressure, resetting under the weight as the advantage slipped back out of reach.