Page 85 of Misted

Mist

If it keeps you alive, I’d rip my own heart out and chop it to pieces.

I jump behind the fence.My delayed reflexes slow me down, and I curse.

Silenced shots echo all around the house and I want to murder whoever it is shooting such a cosy, beautiful home.

I scan my surroundings expecting to see Hawk crouched beside me. He isn’t there.

My body locks and sweat trickles down my back.

No.

No, no, no…

Not caring about the bullets, I slowly lift my head over the fence, dread tightening my stomach.

Hawk is running behind one of the trees, a gun in hand. He throws a silent look my way and mouths. ‘Stay there.’

I release a long breath and crouch on the ground so my head isn’t in shooting range.

Concern still pulls at my strings like a Russian Roulette. My gaze roams around, trying to decipher if my stalker is behind the attack.

He never worked in a team, so if it is indeed him, then this is a first.

I don’t like the change of pattern. That means he’s getting desperate or more ruthless. Or both.

The source of the shooting comes from the tree Hawk is heading to. He’s holding the gun with his right hand.

Now that I know he doesn’t have full control of his dominant hand, my shoulder blades tighten with tension.

During our years apart, he’s always been a constant immortal that I trusted will survive.

This handicap ruins everything.

I stare at my shaky hands and fist them. They will have to submit and be useful today.

Hawk must’ve caught the shooters’ attention because the direction of the bullets switches to the bushes.

I flatten my torso on the ground and crawl behind the fence, using it as a shield. My legs still shake, but thankfully the ringing in my head isn’t strong.

The more gunshots puncture the silence, the surer I become that Hawk is still out there.

He has to.

Once the fence ends, I take a chance and jump into the bushes.

With this cover, they won’t be able to catch me. I keep my back low and follow the trail of the gunshots. Omega’s enhanced hearing and speed would be brilliant now, but the bloody mule had to take it away.

I spot Hawk climbing into a tree opposite the direction from where gunshots are coming. He’s hidden by the bushes from below but if he reaches the middle of the tree trunk, he’ll be shot down.

What the hell is wrong with him?

I use the trees as camouflage while I jump over the rocks and fallen branches. My breathing is ragged and I’m panting as if I’ve been through a marathon. I can’t believe even such a small effort is weighing me down.

Once I’m a few trees away from Hawk, I raise my arm, trying to get his attention. A man in black combat clothes and boots cuts into my vision and points a rifle at Hawk’s back. Someone else continues shooting from above.

I run at the one in front of me at full speed and kick his hand. A shot goes off in the sky’s direction. The man turns and reaches for his rifle. I kick it away. He throws a punch at my face and I duck. He goes again and again. I avoid his strikes every time. Thank God I improved my stamina with those long runs.