The Drafter

“You shot him!” Fran stared aghast at her daughter. “Are you crazy?”

 

 

“I shot his foot. He was going to kill me! Gawd, Mom. You think I should have just let him? And I’ll be damned before I let you railroad another innocent woman.”

 

“Innocent?” Fran laughed, and the cold sound tripped down Peri’s spine. “Don’t be naive, my dear. Give me the gun, and for God’s sake, drop the accent.”

 

“I am not ashamed of who I am!” Taf shouted, face red. “Peri? We gotta go!”

 

Before she really gets pissed, Peri thought, shoving Silas to the door.

 

“You involved Taffy?” Silas grimaced over his shoulder at her. “She’s just a girl!”

 

“The woman’s name is Taf, and she’s rescuing us,” Peri said. “And shooting at people. At the same time.” He stared at her, and she gestured to the stairs. “Who do you think planned my escape? Listen to the woman with the rifle and move your ass!”

 

Silas fell into motion. Allen stared at them as they limped down the stairs. Howard gestured for them to hurry, half hidden by a pallet of freight. This was so messed up. How many people did it take to rescue one man?

 

“Howard?” Silas exclaimed in shock. “What are you doing here?”

 

Peri sighed, wondering the same thing. Her feet hit the concrete in a last lurch, the jarring sensation traveling all the way up to her skull. Hunched, she waved Taf to join them. Taf jogged forward, yelling at her mother to stay where she was, but Fran was still in shock, torn between yelling at her daughter and seeing if Allen was okay. Ashen, Allen held his bloody foot, silent as he watched them flee.

 

“You okay?” Taf said, eyes bright as she held Allen’s Glock out to her. “Silas?”

 

“He can move.” Frustrated, Peri took the handgun and pushed Taf toward the back door. Howard had tucked his shoulder under Silas’s arm, and Taf walked backward to make sure her mom didn’t follow.

 

“Don’t believe her, Silas,” Allen shouted, his voice holding equal amounts of anger and pain. “You’ll never know the truth! She doesn’t even know it herself. I read her diary. I know how easy it’s become for her to kill.”

 

Peri’s face went cold, her pace faltering. He saw my diary?

 

“We will find you!” Allen called out, still on the floor, a small puddle of blood around his foot. “We know everything you’ll do, Peri. We trained you!”

 

This was going to give her nightmares. Taf walked backward beside Peri, the young woman’s long coat furling like the heroine’s in a sci-fi flick, her rifle pointed at the floor, but neither Allen nor her mom was moving.

 

“You trust her?” Peri heard Silas ask Howard, and her jaw clenched.

 

“I don’t know,” Howard said. “But coming back for you was her idea.”

 

“Taf, you are cut off! You hear me?” Fran exclaimed.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Taf said, a hint of the depth of her bitterness showing.

 

“Taf!” Fran shouted as they got to the back door and light spilled in.

 

Peri stood a shaky watch with Taf as Howard got Silas to the truck. Silas wasn’t moving well, his wide shoulders hunched in pain, and Peri was worried.

 

“You first,” Taf said, motioning for Peri to go. Silas was already in the truck, pained and crunched into the door. Behind her, the security door slammed. Taf stomped past her, the young woman’s head down and the rifle held in a white-knuckled grip. A frustrated female cry echoed in the hangar.

 

And even though she couldn’t stand the woman, Peri knew exactly how Fran felt.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER

 

TWENTY-TWO

 

 

The small room was warm from body heat, and the reek of Howard’s solder overpowered the scent of the hot chocolate Silas had brought back for her from the nearby coffeehouse—along with something for everyone—when he’d gone in search of an honest-to-God paper newspaper. Nose wrinkled, Peri sipped at the cooling drink, levering herself out of the faded chair to nuke it in the microwave. Silas looked up from where he was kneeling over the coffee table with Howard. Styrofoam and plastic bags littered the floor, and Silas gave her a quick smile before Howard recaptured his attention with a request to hold something.