“Maze is too fast.” Evan answered. “Once he’s picked up a scent—especially my sister’s—he’ll run his paws bloody until he finds her.” Evan’s honey eyes never left the land in front of them, searching. “He’s done it before.”
“The woods are straight ahead.” Creed’s vision was always a hair’s breadth sharper than anyone else’s.
“We can’t take the truck through that,” Rhett squinted at the line of foliage in the distance.
“What do you want to do, Dr. Winter?”
Margo looked to Evan expectantly. “What do you think?”
Evan reached for his mother’s hand and tried to untangle the knot of flashing images slapping him. “I don’t know Mom. I can’t get a clear picture.”
Margo took a deep breath. “Okay. We split up. Alik, Creed, Evan, Farrow and I will go by foot from here. Rhett, you take your people by truck around the woods. We’ll stay in touch by radio.”
“Copy that,” Rhett nodded once, accepting her orders as he would any superior’s.
The others were already hopping out of the truck.
“Thank you, Rhett. If you get to Meg first, please—” Margo’s voice trailed.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to help her, Dr. Winter.”
“Thank you.”
Margo jumped out of the truck and moved quickly into the grove of trees. “Stay sharp,” she reminded the others following her lead. “Use hand signals from here on out.”
Five minutes later, moving at a fast clip, the first sounds of bloodthirsty cheers could be heard echoing through the morning foliage causing the family to alter their heading slightly. The aggression in the voices spurred everybody to break into an all-out run.
Creed and Alik took the lead matching each other’s stride, dodging tree trunks and maneuvering across the uneven ground.
The voices grew louder. The half-brothers exchanged grim expressions before splitting up. Alik ran north around the enemy camp and Creed ran south. Behind them Margo signaled for Evan to follow Alik and Farrow to follow Creed. She slowed her pace, crouching deeper as she moved and ran straight forward, right to the edge of the noise.
What she saw made the mother in her want to scream in pain and the soldier in her want to puncture bullet holes in heads.
She opted to do both.
The first bullet aimed at Kenneth Williams, missed its target by a mere centimeter, instead striking a redheaded soldier who had the misfortune of being the nearest thing the Director ducked behind to save himself. The bullet struck the redhead in the shoulder sending him spinning.
The rest of the bullets flying from each of the Berettas in her icy calm hands found their marks. Her movements were fluid. Years of martial arts training including gun katas dominated her muscle memories. Though she hadn’t used the technique in years, her body remembered the improvised dance of death—so brutal, she had never taught the skill to her children.
From her prone position Meg watched in awe at her mother’s rapid fire movements.
Body after body hit the floor as Margo crouched, arms spread wide, seeming to fire blindly into the crowd, but her kill shots were precise. One tap to the forehead and the enemy crumpled to the ground.
Margo had flown across the space that separated her from her daughter.
Just as she moved to holster one of her spent weapons, the rest of the family took over the battle.
For a moment, it looked as though Maze wasn’t going to let Margo near Meg. His white teeth gnashed, lips pulled back in quivering rage as he barked protectively.
“Whoa, Maze. It’s me,” Margo cooed under her breath as she reached out to grab Meg’s one good arm. Maze blinked his recognition and redirected his protective rage at the bullets and battle around them.
Margo grabbed her daughter’s good arm and ran dragging her behind the nearest cover—a fallen tree and cluster of bushes surrounding it. Maze stopped his tirade long enough to roughly lick Meg’s sweat-soaked face.
Determined to see what was happening to her family, she moved to flip onto her belly, but Maze fought her. He grabbed her by her vest and pulled her away from the log as though he wanted to get her even further away from the danger.
“Maze, it’s okay. I have to help. Stay low,” she whispered.
“Stay here,” Margo slammed new magazines into her spent weapons and handed one to her daughter. “Let us take care of you for once, Meg.” Margo brushed a curly lock of hair away from Meg’s eye and stood.
Around them, the family was engaged in battle. Bullet shells littered the ground as guns were emptied and tossed aside. The sounds of hand-to-hand combat, grunts and skin-on-skin smacks replaced the gunfire.
Alik and Evan were fighting back to back as more metahumans and metamonarchs surrounded them.
Creed and Farrow were another formidable team, but there were just too many to beat back.
Margo stayed near Meg, determined to protect her from any more harm.
She had just taken out two hulking metahumans half her age when she noticed Michelle Andrews running full speed toward her.