Then much to Lora’s surprise, she heard a grating sound and realized that someone was pushing the block of concrete off the lid. One of the invaders? No, that seemed unlikely. A merc, then, sent to take her away. But why? Everyone knew she was slated to hang.
Lora’s thoughts were interrupted as the lid rose and a moonlit silhouette appeared. Lora expected the man to order her out of the hole and was taken by surprise when he jumped in. A flashlight came on as the lid fell. And that was when Lora saw Mr. Oliver’s unshaven face. He smiled evilly and his sour breath enveloped her. “So you’re alive! Good. I have no desire to share this hole with a rotting corpse.”
That was when Lora realized the truth. Mr. Oliver was hiding from the attackers. And if she could kill him, there was a possibility of escape.
Lora had learned a number of things since being forced to leave the Sanctuary, one of which had to do with the male anatomy. She brought a knee up, heard Mr. Oliver utter a grunt, and felt a puff of fetid air hit her face.
The overseer swore, took a step back, and fumbled for the pistol in his waistband. Rather than let him draw it, Lora stepped in to wrap her arms around his. Bone met cartilage as her head snapped forward, and bone won. The bridge of Mr. Oliver’s nose collapsed and blood gushed down over his mouth.
But the overseer had some tricks of his own. Having clenched his hands, he bent his elbows and brought both of them straight up. That broke Lora’s hold and opened a gap between them. Then he threw a punch. It connected with Lora’s chin and threw her backward. Water splashed in every direction as she landed and Mr. Oliver threw himself on top of her. “Die, bitch,” he growled as he placed both hands on Lora’s chest and tried to force her head down under the filthy liquid.
Mr. Oliver was too heavy to dislodge. Lora knew that just as she knew that once her head went underwater, it would never come up again. Having failed to push the man off, Lora brought her hands down to explore the bottom of the pit. What she needed was a rock to hit him with.
There wasn’t any rock, but Lora’s fingers found something better in the form of a human thighbone. She stabbed at Mr. Oliver’s eyes with the fingers on her left hand. That forced his head up and back just as the club came up to hit him. He looked surprised, frowned, and was about to say something when Lora hit him again. And again.
Mr. Oliver’s eyes rolled out of focus and he toppled forward. Lora was trapped, and it was a struggle to wiggle her way out from under the inert body. Then, having managed to escape, she felt for the pistol. It was still there, protruding from Mr. Oliver’s waistband.
Lora stood and saw that the flashlight was still on and bobbing in the water. She bent to retrieve it, found a ledge to place the light on, and began to strip. The uniform was soaking wet and very heavy. It felt good to get rid of it.
Then, with pistol in hand, she stood on Mr. Oliver’s back. That made the difference. Now she could reach the lid. She made use of the gun barrel to shove it up and out of the way. The fighting was still under way. That meant there was a chance. Lora began to climb. She was halfway up when fingers closed around her ankle and Mr. Oliver jerked her down.
“I’m going to kill you,” he said as Lora landed in the water. “And Mr. Voss will reward me for it.” The flashlight was still on, and as Lora looked up at the cook, she could see the rivulets of blood that were running down his face. He had the bone now, and he raised it above his head.
The gunshots were unusually loud in the confined space. Mr. Oliver jerked spastically, fell over backward, and collapsed.
Lora’s breath was coming in short gasps, and her heart was beating like a trip-hammer as she stood on him for the second time, pulled herself up, and rolled out onto the ground.
The barracks were on fire. Flames could be seen in some of the windows as the front door burst open and two mercenaries came out shooting. It was a futile gesture. They fell in a hail of bullets. Tre figured the barracks had a back door. If so, it was safe to assume that some of the mercs were on the loose.
“I’m going to enter the house!” Crow shouted. “Keep your eyes peeled.” With that, Crow slid to the ground, gave his reins to Freak, and fired a grenade at the front door. There was a flash of light followed by a loud bang. Wood splintered and a gap appeared. Two recruits followed Crow inside.
Tre kicked his horse into motion. What, if anything, was taking place out back? He circled around the north side of the structure and was about to pass between the house and what he took to be the servants’ quarters when a woman waddled out to yell at him. He pointed the carbine at her. She went back inside.
Having seen no other threat, Tre circled around the south side of the mansion and arrived just in time to see a strange apparition climb up out of what looked like a grave. Her skin seemed to glow in the pale moonlight, and he saw that she was clad in a bra and panties. Not a spirit, then… Such were his thoughts as she fired a pistol at him. Then she turned and ran.
The bullet missed. Tre urged his mount forward and quickly caught up with her. As he drew abreast of the girl, Tre took hold of the saddle horn with his left hand and leaned out over the ground. The fugitive wasn’t very heavy, and it was easy to scoop her up. “I’m not a merc! I won’t hurt you!” Tre said as he reined the horse in. The girl reeked of feces and he put her down.
She stared up at him with big eyes. There was something about her expression, the dirt-smeared face, and the defiant pose that made him smile. He noticed that the pistol was ready at her side. “You can stay here,” Tre said gently, “or you can leave with me. The decision is up to you.”
Lora looked up at the man on the horse. He was young—she could see that much—and heavily armed. One of the raiders, then. A merc would have killed her. “I’ll go with you.”
“Can you ride?”
Lora nodded. “Yes.”
“Get up behind me… and hang on tight.” The man extended a hand and Lora took it. Seconds later she was up on the horse with her arms wrapped around his waist. He gave the animal a nudge with his heels, and they rounded a corner and arrived out front. That was when a second man burst out through what had been the front door. Others were right behind him. “She isn’t here!” he proclaimed. “Voss took her south.”
Was the second man referring to Miss Silverton? Who else could it be? The connection made Lora feel better. If the raiders were trying to free Miss Silverton, then there was reason to trust them.
Tre was thinking about the arms that were wrapped around his waist when the radio attached to his weapons harness burped static. “This is Fade… A large group of mercs is approaching from the south! Get out of there.”
Crow was on his horse by then, and he had a radio as well. “Remember the plan… We’re pulling out!“
Tre brought the horse’s head around and kicked its ribs. The animal bolted down the driveway and between a scattering of bodies. Then they were past the gate and out on the highway. The plan was to scatter and meet at an assembly point near Freedom. Once the group was reunited, the original group members would lead the new recruits up into the mountains.
With that in mind, Tre urged his mount into a gallop. Then he turned off onto the first road he came to and headed west. As he glanced back over his shoulder, he saw that there were no signs of pursuit. And that was when he remembered that the girl was clad in nothing more than some underwear.