When I open my eyes, I notice they haven’t moved very far, and one is still dangerously close. Cole aims his pistol at the one closest to us. His finger’s only a quick flick away from the trigger. His face looks rigid. I move the other guard into my line of sight, shifting slightly away from Cole.
Any second now, they’ll discover us, and once again, it’ll be a blood bath.
Two feet.
My pulse echoes in my ear, drowning out the sounds of the ocean. Just then, I hear the static charge of a guard’s radio. My breath catches in my throat. He pulls it from his waist and holds it up. The other guard, hearing the static from his position, meanders back toward us.
“Ten twenty-four, go ahead. I’m listening,” he says.
“All units: Code red. Code red. Lexi Hamilton sighted in the vicinity of Lexington Bay, Key Largo. Four men down. Possibly escaped with a male. Units in the area, please respond.” The voice cuts off.
Now, I really wish we could dig holes into the ground.
“Ten twenty-four, responding to your Code Red for Lexi Hamilton,” the guard says. “I’m in the area.” His partner’s eyes enlarge.
“Sinner is armed and dangerous,” the voice on the radio says. Pause. “Thought to have killed four men. Use extreme caution, and call for backup if discovered.”
“Affirmative.”
The guard lowers his radio, and both men stare at each other in disbelief. “Well hot damn. Looks like we’ve got ourselves some action for a change. Maybe she’s closer than we thought.”
“Once we catch that whore, I’m taking a vacation to Italy,” the growly voice says, excitement ringing through his voice. He steps even closer as he jumps around. I could probably touch the tip of his boot if I wanted to, but I don’t dare make a noise as he pivots.
“You still there, ten twenty-four?” The voice from the radio cuts through the static.
The guard raises the radio to his mouth and faces his partner. “Ten twenty-four, still here.”
“Their getaway car has been found. I repeat: Their getaway car has been found.”
I knew it’d come back to haunt us. My blood feels like ice.
“Report back to quarters immediately,” the voice commands.
“Ten-four.” The guard clips his radio to his waist and shrugs while looking at his buddy. “They’re going to mount a search I’m betting.”
“Oh, I feel it in my bones. We’ve got her this time,” the other says.
As they walk away, I can scarcely blink without fear of discovery. I can’t relax. They know we’re here. They know where the car is. It won’t be long before they find us again. It’s only a matter of time. Thunder crawls across the sky, vibrating the earth beneath me.
“Hey, breathe,” Cole says into my ear. “I’m right here.”
I turn my head, and his face is an inch away from mine. I relax a little, releasing the air trapped in my lungs. His warm breath on my neck comforts me as thunder reverberates again, followed by a beautiful display of lightning.
“The rain should’ve washed away our tracks, so let’s hope they’ll assume we’ve taken off running.” He gives me a reassuring touch on the shoulder. “We’ll be all right as long as they don’t have dogs.”
I chew on his words for a minute before deciding he’s probably right. Slowly, my grip relaxes on my gun, and I swallow the lump in my throat.
“We have to stick to the plan. Get to the safe house, make contact with Sutton.”
“Okay then, which one is it?” I ask, motioning to the houses in front of us.
“The pink one on the end.” He wraps his hand around my forearm, and we take off across the open expanse between the reeds and the houses, fighting pain and fatigue. The wind kicks up spray in our faces. Any minute, it looks like the clouds are going to burst.
We reach the houses in silence. Cole quickly moves alongside them and beneath the stilts, making sure it’s clear. Trash cans line the side of the house, half of them blown over by the wind. The garage has no door, and inside it, spare auto parts litter the floor. They rattle just enough to send prickles up my arms.
Then Cole rounds the front of the house, where the water butts up against a rickety wooden staircase. Some safe house.
I know every move Cole’s going to make and cover him with my gun drawn, ready. He runs up the steps, and I guard behind him with my gun cocked. He slowly twists the knob and enters the house while scanning the inside.
“Clear,” he whispers as the musty smell hits my nose. I close the door and bolt it shut, double-checking the locks before turning around. We take turns clearing each room. It’s a small house, not much wider than a three-car garage, so it’s not long until we confirm it’s empty.