Chapter Nine
Ryder reacts fast, and jumps away from the knife. It slashes through the air, missing his neck by a couple of inches. Ryder grabs the leader’s wrist, and twists it sharply. The leader curses and the knife falls from his hands and into the dirt. Ryder twists the wrist harder, and it snaps.
He draws the leader closer, and brings his knee up directly into his stomach. The leader wheezes harshly and doubles over, trying to catch his breath. Ryder doesn’t give him the chance though. He brings his arm up, and slams his elbow down directly onto the leader’s spine. He falls to the ground and doesn’t move again.
His two companions just stare at him, unsure of what to do next. They’re still holding their weapons, but Reese has them at gunpoint. I can’t see what he says to them, but they drop their shotguns to the ground and start to back away, hands raised. They don’t want to mess with Ryder or Reese now that their leader is laying face-down on the ground, and isn’t responding to their calls.
“Leave now, or end up like your boss. The choice is up to you, friends,” Ryder says, glaring at them. “And for future reference, try to have a little more respect for women. If you don’t, I’ll teach it to you in a way you won’t forget. Now, come pick up your friend.”
It sounds like something one cowboy would say to another after a bar fight. Come scoop up your friend. For just a second, I feel like smiling at how badass Ryder and Reese are. I’m incredibly glad they found me when they did, or I could have ended up with two losers that didn’t know a gun from their elbow.
The two strangers dart forward, pick up one arm each, and drag their friend back into the trees they came from. The second they’re gone, Reese picks up their weapons from the ground and keeps one watchful eye on the woods, and another on the SUV. Ryder starts packing the ammunition into a duffel bag of his, and transfers it to the back of the jeep.
While he’s busy checking and rechecking the guns, Tobe and I stack the three and a half remaining cases of water, and then pile the food in beside it. There isn’t much, and I’m upset that the vegetables are all gone, but our losses could have been worse. Just thinking about what that monster wanted makes my skin crawl, and I rub my arms nervously.
Ryder glances over at me and frowns. “Are you ok? You know me and Reese would never let them touch you. They would have had to go through both of us to get to you, and it wouldn’t have been worth the effort.”
“I’m fine,” I say, cracking open a bottle of water. I take a sip and, even though it’s warm, it makes me feel much better. I cap it, and relax a little. “Let’s just get out of here before they decide to come back. They might have friends in the area nearby.”
Ryder nods, and packs away the ammunition. He and Reese take the seats up front, and Tobe and I hop in back. She’s still shaking slightly, and she doesn’t look up to conversation. I wonder if she’ll always react this way to threat, or if it’ll get better with time and patience.
I’ve never met someone that suffered as much as she did at the hands of the Warriors, but from what I know about victims like her, her behavior isn’t all that abnormal. It doesn’t necessarily help our situation, since she doesn’t do much but use up supplies and cry herself to sleep, but I don’t do that much either I guess.
Ryder starts the jeep. “How much farther do we have to go?” I ask.
Reese looks down at the map in his lap. “About seven hours. We should make it by morning if we drive straight through the night.”
I lean forward to peer into the driver’s seat. “Ryder, are you going to be ok driving that long? I know I’m not great for a lot of thing, but I do know how to drive a jeep. I could take a turn if you’re tired.”
He turns and actually smiles at me. “Don’t worry about me; I’ll be alright for a bit longer. But, if you really want to, I guess I can let you steer the boat once we get to the marina. You ever spend time on a boat before?”
“I had an uncle that lived in Georgia. He took me out on his boat a few times, but I never got to do any of the work; I just got to watch him and take notes. It’s been a long time though. I’d probably crash the boat and strand us out in the middle of Lake Michigan.”
“That would suck,” Ryder says dryly. “Alright, perhaps you won’t be steering.”
Smiling, I lean back in my seat, and stare out the window. Ryder isn’t driving as fast as he was the night before, but the trees still zip by at an unbelievable rate. Staring at them too long makes me feel queasy and sick, so I close my eyes, hoping to get a bit of rest before we reach the marina and the island.