She leaned against the wall, her weight on one leg, her hand tucking the soap in the folds of her too-big jumpsuit as she pretended to cradle sore ribs. When she looked around, Rick was glaring at Soldier One. Blood trailed from one temple.
“Please,” she said, infusing her voice with pain and weariness. “Don’t hurt them. I’ll do whatever you say.” Face the wall, she told Phil, but be ready to act.
He looked at the others.
Rick, Grant, and Phil turned to face the wall, hands raised to appease the guards.
“I realize you boys are just following orders,” Rick muttered, “but you don’t have to be dicks about it.”
Soldier One delivered a scathing, epithet-filled response, then backed up to Soldier Two. “Take care of the woman,” he growled, keeping his eyes and his weapon trained on the men.
Soldier Two lowered his weapon, letting it dangle in front of him by its sling. Approaching Dana, he drew out a zip tie. “Face the wall. Hands behind your back.”
She nodded, hissing in feigned pain as she faced the wall. “I might need your help walking,” she said softly, adding a tremor of fear to her voice. “I think my ankle is sprained.”
“Hands behind your back,” he repeated, cold as ice.
Dana straightened away from the wall, hopping a bit as though trying to find her balance, then gingerly lowered the toes of her injured foot to the floor. Giving her right arm a little shake, she slid the broken toothbrush handle down into her right palm.
“I told you she was hurt,” Rick grumbled.
“Shut the fuck up,” Soldier One snapped.
“Left hand first,” Soldier Two instructed, all business.
So much for engendering a little sympathy. Dana shifted her left arm as though to comply, then gripped the toothbrush handle with her right hand and drove it back. Hard.
Soldier Two howled as the plastic point buried itself in his thigh.
Spinning around, Dana threw the bar of soap, grabbed Soldier Two’s weapon and slammed it into his face as he bent forward.
When Soldier One cast a startled look over his shoulder, the bar of soap hit him in the temple like a rock. His head jerked as he staggered to the side.
Soldier Two swore and grabbed for his weapon. But Dana had already pulled the sling over his head. As she yanked it away, he swung at her.
Dana ducked the blow and came up strong, slamming the butt of the weapon into his cheek, then bending to kick out behind her. Her heel slammed into Soldier One’s jaw as he hastily regained his balance and turned to her.
Soldier One grunted as his head snapped back.
Dana remained in constant motion, swinging around and knocking Soldier Two’s sidearm out of his hand before he could finish drawing it from its holster.
Fury contorting his features, he swung at her.
She blocked the swing with the weapon she held, then slammed her forehead into his mouth. Pain careened through her head as she turned and ducked a swing from Soldier One. Then she was fighting them both, blocking hits and delivering kicks with an expertise she could not explain.
She flung Soldier Two’s weapon toward Rick, then deftly relieved Soldier One of his.
When Soldier One reached for his sidearm, Rick pressed the barrel of the automatic rifle to his temple.
“Don’t do it,” Rick growled.
Soldier Two lunged toward his discarded sidearm.
Dana reached it first and aimed it at his forehead. Her breath came in gasps. Her arms hurt, unaccustomed to the hits they had taken while blocking blows. And her heel throbbed.
“Holy crap,” Phil breathed as he stared at her with wide eyes. “Who the hell are you? That was like some shit you’d see in a Michael Bay movie.”
Quick as lightning, Dana slammed the butt of the gun into Soldier Two’s temple.
Knees buckling, the man sank to the floor, unconscious.
Rick followed her lead, knocking Soldier One unconscious. Crouching beside the fallen man, Rick set his weapon aside and started removing the man’s uniform.
Grant gaped at Dana. “How did you do that?”
Her heart racing, Dana shook her head. “I have no idea. Phil, how many guards do you usually see?”
He thought for a moment. “Two came to take me to the lab. And there were two more at the end of the hallway, guarding the door to the next section. There are more scattered beyond that, usually in pairs.”
She thought quickly. “You’re telepathic. Have you caught the names of the two at the end of the hallway?”
“They differ according to their shifts, but the two on duty now should be Edwards and Mitchell.” He quieted, looking to one side. “Yeah. It’s Edwards and Mitchell.”
Grant helped divest Soldier One of his boots and uniform.
Rick stood and tugged off his jumpsuit, revealing a trim, muscular body in white boxer shorts.
“If I can get you past those guards,” she said, “can you read enough minds to help me bullshit our way out the back door?”
“I’ll sure as hell try,” Phil vowed.
Gershom had eluded Seth and the Others thus far by remaining on the move. If he had left shortly after dropping Dana off, she wanted to be far away before he returned with his next victim. She had little hope that in the hours she had been gone, the Immortal Guardians had miraculously discovered where Gershom was holding the gifted ones. So it was up to her to find her way back to them.
Rick hastily pulled on Soldier One’s uniform. Grant started on Soldier Two’s.
Phil looked toward one wall. “The other guards are wondering what’s taking so long.”
Dana motioned to Grant. “Help him.”
As Grant donned the uniform, Dana and Rick transferred the discarded jumpsuits to the guards.
“The bed,” she whispered.
Rick folded Soldier One over his shoulder then dumped him on the bed so he lay with his back to the door.
“What the hell is taking so long?” a male shouted down the hallway.
She looked to Rick, who seemed to be the strongest of the group. “Call them.”
He nodded. “Hey, Edwards?” he yelled with a hint of uncertainty.
Dana took the automatic rifle from Phil and backed up to the wall on one side of the doorway.
Rick and Grant curled Soldier Two into a fetal position, then moved to stand over him with their backs to the door.
“What?” a man called back. “What’s the holdup?”
“I, uh,” Rick yelled in what Dana thought was a pretty good impression of Soldier One. “I think I might’ve fucked up. The woman fought me when I tried to restrain her, and I may have hit her too hard. I, uh… Shit, I think she’s dead.”
“Damn it, Cox!” the unseen man grumbled.
Phil backed up to the wall and put his hands behind his head, concealing the 9mm he held.
Footsteps clomped down the hallway, growing closer.
“What kind of asshat can’t restrain a ninety-five-pound woman?” a second voice groused. “You’re fucking armed!”
The light from the hallway dimmed as two more soldiers entered.
One swore when he saw “soldiers” Phil and Rick leaning over a prone figure on the floor, their heads down. “General Gershom is going to have our asses if—”
Dana knocked them unconscious so quickly they didn’t even have time to yelp in surprise. Kneeling beside them, she swiftly divested them of their weapons.