Page 43 of Stolen

Again, the ground exploded. Again the attackers fell back.

Ariana wanted to cheer, until she saw what was coming. From around the back of the convoy came a black, metallic monster.

Madre de Dios, they’d brought a tank.

It rolled out from the back of the line of trucks, shells flying from its gun turret and tearing apart the trees at one side of the road. It rolled right over the fallen trunks, over the trenches, heading for the barriers.

“Fall back!” Hawk was yelling, gesturing. “Fall back!”

The townspeople broke back, staying low. The tank fired and a shell whistled overhead. It hit a stone wall, sending dust and shards of rock in all directions.

In front of her, one of the human men went down, his thigh cut open by a sharp piece of flying rock. Ariana helped him up, slinging his arm around her shoulders. “Come on.”

They could barely see anything; explosions seemed to be all around them. Ariana caught one glimpse of Boomer, grinning manically and lobbing grenades at the tank.

Suddenly, everything stopped, and an eerie silence fell. Rico’s voice came over a loudspeaker. “You cannot stand against us,” he said. “Surrender now, or die like dogs.”

As if in answer, a wild howl sounded in the distance. Then another, and another. Then they heard the sound of engines on the road from Outlaw Ridge, and a minute later a helicopter swooped over them, close enough to make people duck reflexively. Three men leaned out of it, spraying the attackers with automatic weapons fire.

The wolves got there right afterwards, streaking across the fields like a blur, straight into the attackers’ flank. They bowled them over, tearing at their weapons, their arms and legs, looking to cripple or kill.

The soldiers arrived next, packed into two armored vehicles and a fleet of trucks. They poured out, taking positions wherever they could find cover.

One of the wolves carried a pack strapped to his body. As he burst through the chaos the pack had made of the attackers’ flank, it Changed into a naked man, skin streaked with mud. Sanchez.

He ripped the pack off, hit the ground, rolled, and tossed the pack right underneath the tank track as it moved forward.

Just as the tank rolled over it, the pack exploded. The track ripped apart, and the tank lurched to a halt.

Seconds later, the helicopter made another pass. A soldier leaned out and dropped a grenade right on the turret gun.

Another explosion, and the gun was disabled.

Sanchez, Changing back to wolf, was knocked off his feet, stunned by the grenade explosion. A cartel soldier jumped on him, knife flashing.

One of Gunn’s men, barely hanging on to the helicopter with one hand, took careful aim and shot the cartel soldier with the knife.

Sanchez’s wolf got up, shook himself, and bounded back into the battle as the two sides clashed with teeth, knives and guns.

The man Ariana was helping sagged. He was bleeding badly, and he wasn’t a shifter. If he lost much more blood he would die.

She had to get him to safety.