Chapter 28

The team made a mad dash into the desert for freedom. Cutter’s every pounding footfall against the hard soil jarred him. He clutched the weapon and, through sheer will, watched as the floodlight he’d once been pinned under grew fainter and fainter in the distance.

He heard the whir of chopper blades nearby. Another undertow of dizziness threatened to pull him under. His strength gave out.

With suddenly limp fingers, he let go of the weapon. It clattered to the dirt.

Hunter scooped it up again, barking instructions. The cacophony scrambled his head; he couldn’t hear a word. But Cutter flung him down inside the cockpit. One-Mile caught a glimpse of the rivets in the domed top before his vision blurred over and blackness closed in.

His last conscious thought was that he hoped he’d regain consciousness, and that he’d be looking into a pair of soft amber eyes if he did.

***

Friday, September 12

Louisiana

When her phone chirped with the ring