Fuck. It could be Penny.
I shoot, blasting the motherfucker in the head to plaster his blood over a nearby painting, his limp body flopping to the floor.
More screams lash the air, the closest coming from that open doorway, the sound quickly smothered. There’s the shout of men from another corner of the house. The thud of a struggle, too.
I creep toward the room, stepping over the dead guard, and chance a glance inside the darkened interior.
“Penny?” I blink to adjust to the lack of light and find three bunks. A dresser. A closet. But no warrior woman, only the faintest hint of movement from the far corner. “Shorty, is that you?”
I crouch slowly, the movement incremental, my gun still at the ready. “Are you in here?” I flatten onto my stomach, doing a visual sweep under the beds to find two wide eyes beaming back at me from under the farthest bunk.
It’s another woman, her body shrouded in darkness.
I place down my weapon and tilt my hands skyward. “I’m here to help.”
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink.
“My name’s Luca. I was here the other day with Cole.”
Still, no movement. No noise.
“Stay where you are, okay? I’ll come back for you once it’s safe.” I reclaim my gun and brace to stand. “Have you seen Penny? Did she walk by?”
Her hesitation continues for long seconds before she finally nods. It’s barely there. Almost unseen.
“Did she continue down the hall?”
This time her nod is more defined. Adamant.
“Okay. Good.” I shove to my feet, thankful for the adrenaline faintly masking the pounding in my skull. Those gunshots messed with my head. The attack on the guard did, too.
I reclaim my position close to the wall and continue into unchartered territory, my vision not entirely at the top of its game. I have to blink to make things crystal, and that’s a fucking worry all on its own.
“Penny?” I yell. “Where are you?”
A thunder of footsteps sound from the hall I just trekked. Not light. Not hers. As soon as the asshole comes around the corner, I shoot.
Pop. Pop.
He crumples. It’s too fucking easy. And it’s entirely fucking clear these guards aren’t guards at all. They’re puppets armed with the least tactical weapon on earth to be used indoors.
Their lack of skill doesn’t make sense. Unless Luther truly was untouchable out here and these guards are for show.
“I’ve taken down two.” I speak into the microphone hidden under my shirt. “But something doesn’t feel right.”
Someone grunts, the sound resembling a struggle.
More gunfire erupts, the noise carrying from outside.
“One more down.” Hunt pants through my earpiece. “But Penny must’ve got her count wrong. I can still hear someone else out here.”
Pop. Pop. Pop.
This time the shots ricochet from inside, the brain-piercing noise vibrating off the walls to tamper my ability to distinguish the location.
Women wail. A male shouts.
“Penny,” someone cries. “Penny.”
I run, taking the first archway on my left to dart and weave through a dining room.
“Tadd, you don’t want to do this.”
It’s her, the familiar voice carrying from nearby.
I don’t stop. Don’t even pause. I sprint toward the sound and skitter to a halt when I find her standing in an archway, her arms raised in surrender, light from inside the room bathing her in an ethereal glow.
“Penny, don’t go in there.” I keep running. Scrambling.
She ignores me to step out of view.
Pop. Pop.
I die at the sound of those shots. The accompanying screams are brutal. Gunfire takes over—from the other side of the house and outside. It’s everywhere, the thunder pounding into my skull.
I push harder, sprinting into the unknown a few feet behind her, yelling a war cry in the hopes of stealing the attention of any threat toward her. As soon as I breach the room, shots rain down on me from an asshole with a rifle. I dive, the whistle of a bullet brushing my ear as I sail through the air, my gun steady.
I return fire—pop, pop—then hit the ground hard, the smooth tile helping me to slide behind the safety of a sofa.
For a second, I lie there, waiting for a lethal wound to announce itself, listening for movement of an enemy as blackness spots over my vision.
There’s more screaming. More sobbing.
But no more fire.
The battle dies for a moment.
“Penny?” I struggle to raise to my elbows. “Penny?” I shove to my feet, cautious, and find the guard, barely in his twenties, dead on the floor.
Penny stands a few yards to his left, two more women close by her side, and another spread on the floor at her feet, her body and face shielded by the legs standing around her.
I edge my way toward them as I take in my surroundings—the floor-to-ceiling windows providing no protection from an outside threat, another archway at the far side of the room, and the extravagant furniture capable of hiding an enemy.
“It’s okay.” Penny collapses to her knees beside the prone figure, the other two women following suit from the opposite side of the motionless body. “You’re going to be okay.”
“Was she hit?” I back toward them, my gun and sight shifting between the open doorways. “Talk to me.”
My answer comes in the form of slowly building sobs. First one woman, then another.
“In the stomach,” Penny whispers. “She needs to get to a hospital.”
Fuck.
There are no hospitals. Not for this type of situation.
“Hunt, Deck, I’ve found them. But I need you guys to give me an update.” I reach Penny’s side and peer down at the woman on the floor who’s barely a woman at all, her face seeming more like an innocent child’s.
“I’ve got one asshole playing hide-n-seek over here,” Decker says. “But I think that’s the last of them on my side of the house.”
“One got away,” Hunt adds. “He scaled the fucking wall.”
“Did he see your fucking face?” I ask.
“Doubt it. The little bitch was running scared. I’m tempted to run after him.”
“No. We’ve gotta get out of here, and I’m going to need help moving these women.” Three of them at least. And the fourth who I left in the nearby bedroom. The fifth won’t be going anywhere.
There’s no saving her.
Blood seeps across the material of her silken nightwear, the building gurgle in her throat announcing the stream of liquid death about to spill from her lips.
Penny presses her hands to the woman’s abdomen, placing pressure on the wound. “We’re going to get you out of here, Chloe. We’re free.”
There’s confidence in her voice.
Unwarranted, unwavering confidence.
“She’s going to start choking.” I indicate for the blonde to move to the left with a jut of my gun. “Get behind her and lift her shoulders.”
Her trepidatious gaze darts between me and Penny before she finally scrambles to her knees to raise Chloe’s head onto her lap. Not that her compliance matters. The injured woman coughs, the first burst of blood spluttering from her mouth.
“Hold on,” Penny demands. “Keep fighting.”