Page 58 of Hollow Trace

Her voice broke through the residual ringing. Her entire team reacted, targeting weapons or moving to intercept. Quinn turned, too, already reaching for his gun. But she knew, it wouldn’t be enough.

That none of her team could reach him in time.

She fired, determined to down the second asshole before he could pull off a kill shot, when a blur of movement rushed out from behind the SUV, arms pumping, feet kicking up dirt and stones. Brea appeared beside the guy a breath later, pure fury coloring her cheeks. The bastard startled, breaking his focus for the split-second Brea needed to throat punch him with the vee of her hand before grabbing his weapon, tugging him close.

After a vicious headbutt, she heaved him off his feet, pivoted and hurled him across the gravel road in a stunning display of raw, unadulterated violence. He slammed spine-first into the front of the Gladiator, hitting the winch with a sickening crunch. His body contorted around the hood, mouth pinched into a grimace, arms and legs bending at unusual angles, before he stilled, dropping silently to the ground.

Scout stared at Brea, shifted her gaze to Quinn, then back, wondering if she’d imagined his sister lifting a guy twice her weight and throwing him through the air.

Brea panted, chest heaving, hands shaking before she looked at everyone. “That’s for making me run those fucking trials.” A shiver worked through her as she wiped off her hands. Another creep twitched, and she kicked him in the jaw, sending him tumbling four feet across the gravel. “Can we go, now? This place gives me the creeps.”

Her teammates froze for a few moments before tossing the cargo nets into the back of the pickup. As everyone scrambled inside the vehicles, Scout raced over and slid behind the wheel as Quinn jumped in the passenger side, Brea sitting in the back. Coulter dragged the unconscious merc off to the side. Climbing back in, Coulter peeled out, engine purring and all four tires kicking up stones.

Some of the men recovered as they rolled past, rising enough to fire overlapping suppressed rounds, the bullets pinging off the reinforced panels. A few hit the glass, creating spiderweb cracks the length of the window as the SUV lurched ahead, shadowing Coulter’s rear bumper as he roared toward the parked vehicles.

He didn’t slow, ramming the second SUV blocking their exit, pushing it sideways into a deep drainage ditch. It hit hard, the horn blaring out in protest, the rear axle hung up on a downed log.

Scout drafted behind him, mud and gravel spraying out the back as a few errant rounds impacted the rear end. They raced ahead, navigating the pitch-black maze of switchbacks and spurs, the glow of the burning mountain shining in their rearview.

The tires fishtailed across the blacktop once they swerved onto the highway, smoke pouring out from the rubber. The constant tick of stones fading into the steady hum of the asphalt. Coulter eased up on the speed, electing to stay on the paved thoroughfare until they reached the forest service road back to the bunker.

Their headlights cut a swath through the dark, lighting up the carport as they pulled inside, and cut the engines. They continued to tick for a few minutes, the fans still cooling the engines after everything shut off, a numbing silence falling over them.

Quinn touched her hand, smiling when she snapped her gaze to him. “You waiting for something?”

She snorted. “The energy to move. I swear it just evaporated once I parked.”

He leaned forward and smiled. Her stomach fluttered at the sheer beauty of him. “I can carry you in.”

“And break more ribs? Or puncture a lung.” She brushed her thumb along his jaw, then opened her door, destroying the calm atmosphere with a blast of bright light. “If anyone needs help, it’s you.”

Brea snorted, shaking her head. “God, you two are as sickening as ever.” She stepped out, catching her balance on the side of the car. “Whoa. Guess I got up a bit too quickly.”

Quinn was out of the car and at Brea’s side a breath later. Arm around her waist, he ignored her assurances that she didn’t need any help while he steered her toward the bunker. Bright light spilled through the open door, Darwin’s dark silhouette standing in the center.

He hooked his arm under Brea’s, helping her into a wheelchair and pushing her down the hallway. Over his shoulder, he yelled for Quinn to get his ass into the med bay — Scout too.

Quinn took Scout’s hand in his, squeezing it as they hurried behind his sister, staring down Gus when he breezed past him in the hallway. Gus merely crossed his arms, following them until they walked into the other room.

Darwin helped Brea onto one of the exam tables, offering her a blanket as he looked over at Quinn. “I’m just going to do a quick once-over, then you’re up. Wynn said you broke some ribs and dislocated your shoulder.”

Quinn winced as he eased onto the thin pad, holding his right side. “I’ve been hurt worse.”

“Coulter says the same damn thing every time. And, as I remind him, that fact isn’t comforting.” Darwin speared his gaze at Scout. “And I know you took a round in your arm. More hits to your vest. Wynn’s gonna stitch you up, personally. Something about brushing her off in the field.”

Scout sighed. “We didn’t have time. And I’m with Quinn. Been hurt worse.”

Darwin shook his head, talking softly to Brea as he helped her over to one of the beds, setting up a saline drip after tucking the blanket around her before heading over to Quinn.

He didn’t talk, just checked the wounds, cleaning and stitching where needed, somehow managing to tend to everything without causing more pain. After pushing some meds their way, he shoved his glasses up his nose as he released a long breath. “I heard you two insisted on the rest of the team grabbing those samples instead of shadowing you to get Brea. That was incredibly selfless.”

Quinn inched closer to Scout, pressing his thigh against hers as he shrugged his good shoulder. “You can’t prove Finch is behind all of this without proof. I just hope what they grabbed is enough.”

“Does this mean I don’t have to worry about waking up handcuffed to the bed?”

Quinn grinned. “Not from me, but…” He glanced at Wynn. “I hear someone else might see that as a viable option.”

Darwin groaned. “You, too?”