Page 56 of Ash Storm

Reka

Running in the dark, even with the night vision goggles, was terrifying. The only thing that made it remotely okay was Ash’s hand around hers.

At times, as the green darkness zoomed past them, it felt like his hand was her only anchor to reality—the only thing stopping her from slipping away into the night.

Reka didn’t stop, even when her lungs felt like they were about to explode and her leg muscles quivered, because she’d already let Chloe down tonight, and if she stopped, she would also be letting down—and maybe killing—two men who were here because of her.

Then Ash’s phone rang. When he stopped to take the call, Reka was thankful at first for the chance to breathe. Moments later, she regretted that momentary optimism. Though she couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, the few words Ash uttered were enough to let her know the news wasn’t good. “Understood. Is Slate okay? We’ll proceed to the next rendezvous spot, yes. Copy and out.”

“What … what’s going on?” she asked, her throat dry with fear.

“Afsan has a helicopter flying over the area. He spotted our colleague, so we’re going to have to go a bit farther to the next meeting point.”

“A bit farther?” she asked, taking a small step back. A larger than usual rock dug into her foot. Tears welled in her eyes. The too-large socks Ash had so kindly rolled onto her feet were doing little to protect her from the multiple sharp objects lining the forest floor.

“We’re okay,” Ash said, and again, his voice was soft and kind. She wanted to lean into his voice, but knew this wasn’t the time.

He and Griffin took off their night vision goggles. Ash approached, and she got a whiff of his clean, manly scent. “We’re far enough now that they won’t be looking for us here, and we’ll move faster without these,” he said, as he lit up a small torch on his forehead. He gently took off her goggles and placed his hand on her shoulder in a move that she knew was designed to reassure her.

And damned if it didn’t warm her up inside, that he cared so much about how she was feeling.

“You ready to move, Griffin?” Ash asked, his gaze still on her.

“I don’t think I am,” Griffin replied, his voice thick with pain. He leaned against a tree, his tall form slumping. His suit jacket opened up, revealing a white shirt that was sodden with blood on the left side.

“Oh my God,” Reka said, rushing to him. “You’ve been shot.”

And she suddenly replayed the scene in her mind—that whizzing sound, and Griffin’s grunt behind her. He’d gotten shot protecting her.

Ash took the man’s suit jacket off. “You fool. You’ve bled half to death. Why didn’t you say something?”

Griffin’s face was unnaturally pale. “It was only … two miles.”

Two miles to the first rendezvous point.

How much further till the next one?

Griffin slumped, but Ash was there to catch him. He lowered him all the way to the ground, to a sitting position. There was blood on the man’s back as well.

“The bullet went through,” Ash said. “At least you’re not likely to die from infection, but we need to stop the bleeding.”

Griffin’s eyes were closed, but they fluttered open at Ash’s last words. “Get her out of here. You can come back for me later.”

“No!” she said, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. But she wasn’t leaving anybody else behind.

“No,” Ash agreed, searching for something in his pack. “You need a hospital and a blood transfusion, Griffin. If we leave you here, you’ll die.”

“How can I help?” Reka asked.

Surprise and gratitude shone in his eyes for a moment. He held a flashlight out to her. Clearly, the light on his forehead wasn’t enough for what he was about to do.

“Hold this here,” he instructed. “So I can see what I’m doing.”

He then pulled out a roll of gauze and unpacked it against the wound, pressing on it with the heel of his palm.

Griffin stirred, but didn’t open his eyes as Ash wrapped a thick layer of bandages around his middle.

Reka thought back to her anatomy classes in college. Down there, the bullet could have hit a kidney, or—