Page 34 of What Remains

He slid off the hood, boots meeting the ground without a sound. His first instinct pushed him toward waking Jay—but a sound rooted him to the spot.

One he recognized even as it sliced through him like a blade.

A woman. Crying. Terrified.

Seth slipped into the shadows along the church siding, rifle tight against his chest as he inched toward the noise. His pulse climbed, steady and trained, the same controlled rhythm he’d carried into compound breaches overseas. Only this wasn’t war.

It was worse. It was here.

Tires skidded to a halt. The driver’s door exploded open, and a man with rage-twisted features dragged a woman out by her hair, her head snapping back as he hurled her onto the ground.

“Get up you fucking bitch.” His voice was a low grind of metal on stone. “You think this is it? Oh, we’re just getting started.” He wrenched her head back by the hair, his face inches from hers. “You’re going to watch me gut the kid. And you’re going to beg me to stop.”

A child’s shriek pierced the night.

Seth’s blood turned to ice.

A kid. A little kid.

The woman clawed toward the backseat, blood-streaked fingers stretching desperately toward the door. “Please—God—she’s just a baby—I’ll do anything.”

The man’s boot crashed into her ribs with a sickening crack, sending her tumbling across the pavement, gasping for air that wouldn’t come.

Seth’s vision narrowed to a pinpoint of crimson. He’d witnessed this before—Afghanistan, the worst of humanity unleashed when no one stood watching. He slid closer, each step silent, deliberate, final.

The man seized her jacket, fabric tearing, buttons scattering across the asphalt. “I’m going to break you,” he snarled, yanking her face inches from his own. “Piece by piece. Then I’ll let your precious baby watch. Maybe then I’ll let her live another hour.”

She thrashed wildly, fingernails raking down his face. “SHE’S FIVE YEARS OLD! PLEASE!”

Another broken, helpless wail rose from the car.

Every protocol Seth had ever trained himself to follow went offline.

The rifle rose, crosshairs settling on the man’s skull. Seth’s breathing slowed to nothing, his trigger finger perfectly still.

The woman’s scream shattered the air as the man slammed her down, knees pinning her chest. His hands tore at his belt buckle, metal glinting in the moonlight.

Seth exhaled.

Squeezed.

Fired.

The crack split the night like lightning. The man jerked forward, collapsing—dead before he hit the pavement.

The woman’s scream was a raw, tearing sound. She scrambled backward, away from the body. Seth stepped from the church’s shadow, the smell of cordite sharp in the air.

“Hey—hey,” he called, rifle still warm in his hands, every muscle coiled. “You’re safe. You’re safe now.”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” she screamed, voice shredded raw, throwing her hands up as though they could stop another bullet. “DON’T TOUCH HER! PLEASE GOD⁠—”

Jay and Cara charged across the lot, weapons raised, eyes wild with adrenaline.

“What the fuck, are there more?” Jay yelled, dropping to one knee beside Seth.

Cara’s gaze darted from the sobbing woman to the corpse leaking dark fluid onto the pavement, to the child’s piercing screams still echoing from inside the vehicle. Seth’s low, controlled voice cut through it all.

The woman’s lungs heaved as though she were drowning on dry land, her gaze ricocheting between the rifle barrel, Seth’s face, and the SUV where Jay had positioned himself like a shield.