Page 42 of Stolen

Chapter 20

Down in Rockhaven, they’d set up defensive barricades where the main road came out of the forest into town. As well as disabling the rearmost truck as a diversion so Hawk could rescue Ariana, Boomer and his explosives team had used land mines to destroy front end of the lead truck, stopping it cold.

“Instant road block,” he’d said with a grin, when they were setting the mines. “No construction required.”

All the trucks behind it were forced to stop too, kept from driving around the disabled vehicle by the thick trees on either side.

Ariana murmured to Hawk, “But if they get out of the trucks and come on foot, they can spread out and hit us from all directions.”

“Some of them would have done that anyway,” Hawk said. “They must know by now that they outnumber us.”

“Had to stop the trucks,” Boomer said. “There’s gun emplacements on at least two of them, under the canvas. If they get those into town, they can reduce every street they drive down to rubble.”

Ariana set her jaw. At least Boomer had given them a chance.

If only the wolves from the Ridge would come. There was still no word.

Ricardo’s men began advancing, firing on the barricades. Everyone ducked except Boomer, who was watching their progress and didn’t seem to care about flying bullets.

“First line of defenses!” Boomer yelled. “Now!”

Bombs exploded out of the ground in a half-circle just in front of the charging men, knocking them off their feet and sending a couple of them flying backwards. Trenches appeared in front of them, and debris filled the air.

But the second wave was still on their feet, still advancing.

The townspeople fired at them from behind their barricades. Ariana was in the rear, manning the ammo supply, running back and forth with fresh bullets when anyone ran out. She was filled with impotent fury, not even able to fight.

Her father had never allowed her and her sisters to handle firearms. In his view, women needed to be defenseless, so they could be dominated.

When this was over, she promised herself, she would learn to shoot. Fight with knives and fists. Never again would she be helpless; never again would others have to endanger themselves to protect her, because she couldn’t do it herself.

Hawk was on the front lines, of course. Deploying their meager troops, moving them when necessary.

Making sure the wounded were safe.

And there were wounded. Not many; not yet. But the smell of blood was in the air—blood and smoke and gunpowder, sharp in her nostrils.

And the sounds—the rattle of weapons fire, the explosions that felt like your chest was being crushed, the calls of the soldiers and the screams of the wounded and dying.

Where were the Outlaw Ridge wolves? The rest of them couldn’t hold out here long—this roadblock was just a stopgap, until the wolves came.

If they came.

She saw Hawk checking his phone, still looking for messages from Gunn. Switch was flying oversight in his helicopter, warning them over the comms units when cartel men tried to break away from the rest, to come around the barricades and flank the defenders.

They tried it twice, and were pushed back both times.

But Rico was impatient. Ariana had lost sight of him—he was not a man to lead from the front. His soldiers were expendable, there to keep him from risking his pretty wolf hide.

But she knew he would grow weary of this stand-off, that he would try a determined frontal assault soon, and eventually he would break them.

He would get his convoy moving if he had to tear down the forest to do it. The remaining trucks would roll into the town, using their giant guns to decimate it.

If the defenders let them get that far, there would be nothing left.

The cartel had regrouped; they were advancing again. Leaping over the trenches left from the first explosives; huddling behind overlapping metal shields to deflect gunfire.

Boomer was watching their progress intently. Finally he yelled, “Second wave!” and his arm, high in the air holding a red flag, swept downward.