The cedar chest was pushed in front of the door with the couch. For good measure, Moon shoved a heavy side table against that. Harley ran to the kitchen table and flipped it over onto the floor facedown. The legs were snapped off with a little help from his boot and strong hands. He lifted the heavy, thick wood of the tabletop and ran for the windows near the door. He dropped it in front of the glass so only inches of sunlight showed at the top. He shoved the loveseat in front of it to keep it in place.
Brass rushed inside the kitchen to tear out the fridge from the hole where it sat and shoved it against the back door. It completely blocked the entire opening and he grabbed the stove.
“Gas line!” Trisha yelled.
Brass froze and peered at her. “Thanks. I wouldn’t have remembered.” He leaned behind the large appliance for a few seconds to remedy the potential problem before he tore the disconnected stove away from the wall. He shoved it against the fridge.
“The top floor should be secure,” Moon called out. “There’s nothing around it high enough for them to climb up there and they can’t leap the way the felines and primates do.”
“I have no signal.” Harley cursed viciously while he gripped a cell phone.
“Parts of the cabin seem to block it,” Brass informed him. “I had to walk around a bit to get service. Try by the base of the stairs. It seemed strongest there.” Something broke inside the kitchen.
Trisha watched as Brass tore apart the counter, using his massive strength to just rip off a section, which he slammed over the single kitchen window. He turned, studied the kitchen for a second, before he hurried back into the living room.
“Get your duffle bag,” Brass ordered Moon. “Use the top floor to take out as many of them as you can. You’re authorized for deadly force. It’s my call and I’m making it.”
Moon nodded grimly and turned his head to stare at Trisha. “Should I take her up there with me?”
“No. She’s safer there, better protected from stray bullets. You’ll be drawing fire when you open up on those terrorists.” Brass glanced at Trisha and held her gaze. “Do not move your ass no matter what happens. Do you understand me? If one of us goes down, doctor or not, don’t move an inch. You think of that baby.”
Fear gripped Trisha when the trucks were close enough for her human ears to pick up the sound. Moon dragged out a duffle bag from a closet near the front door and tore it open. He hadn’t packed clothes inside the large, long bag. Instead he unloaded two rifles and gripped the hand of the duffle, taking it with him as he hurried up the stairs.
Harley walked to his bag and Trisha watched him unloading handguns and ammunition. He glanced at Brass. “Do you want the front or the back position?”
“I’ll take the back. Humans always seem to think they can creep up on us. I think the attack along the back side will be far worse and I’m a better shot.”
“Yeah,” Harley snorted. “We’ll see about that. I bet I can take out more of those terrorists than you can.”
“I’m sure they are just lost,” Trisha urged, hoping that was the case. “Please don’t shoot someone unless you have to.”
Brass met her gaze. “There are two trucks of humans trespassing inside the wild zone and Slade would never send them in this direction with you here. They would have a Species escort and Slade would have warned us to move you to keep you out of sight if they had permission. They are here to do harm. Keep your ass where you are.” He grabbed a side table and shoved the lamp to the floor where glass shattered as it broke. He pushed the table near her to block the hole and trap her there.
“You move from that spot and I’ll blister your ass with a leather belt,” Brass growled at her. “Do you understand? You won’t sit for a week.”
Shocked, Trisha stared at him. Brass suddenly grinned and winked.
“I know enough about human children to know that’s an effective threat.” His smile died. “And I mean it.” He spun away, heading for the back wall of the cabin to a window.
Trisha heard brakes and engines died, letting her know the trucks had stopped outside. She heard male voices. It just has to be some kind of mistake. The guys are just freaking out and overreacting. They have to be. No one knows I’m in the cabin and no one is coming to hurt me or my baby. It is all just a big misunderst―
“Are any of you fucking animals inside there?” a male voice yelled from outside. “Come out and let us put you out of your fucking misery.”
Laughter sounded and Trisha tensed. Okay. It isn’t a misunderstanding. They’re here to do harm. The men outside weren’t looking for her personally but instead were searching for any New Species they found. She locked her focus on Harley by the front window and knew he would be able to see them best. He looked calm to her. She felt anything but. Her terror mounted as the seconds ticked by, praying they’d just leave. She didn’t want Brass or the guys to get hurt protecting her.
“Let’s go in and get us some animal skin,” another jerk laughed.
“We will kill you where you stand if you come any closer. We’re heavily armed,” Harley warned loud enough for them to hear his threat.
Male voices laughed from outside. “You hear that? One of the animals thinks we’d allow a dog or cat to chase us off. Spread out and shoot the son of a bitch. We’re going to show it who the masters are.”
Gunfire erupted, the sounds loud and horrible. Trisha’s gaze flew toward the loft when she realized that Moon had opened fire. Trisha stared in horror as Harley lifted his gun, pointed it out the narrow opening at the top of the window uncovered by the kitchen table, and fired his weapon. Her hands lifted to cover her ears. She heard multiple gunshots and men shouting outside though she tried to block out the sound.
* * * * *
“Fuck,” Slade roared.
“We know where they are,” Tiger spat, grabbing his radio. “We need help at the wild zone at cabin six. We have active gunfire. Our people are under attack.”
Slade snarled at Tiger. “Sit.” It was all the warning he gave before he twisted the wheel hard and the Jeep left the road. He had to violently spin the wheel again seconds later to avoid slamming into a tree.
Tiger cursed and grabbed hold of anything he could. Slade had left the pavement and drove at a dangerous speed through the woods. The Jeep bounced roughly, the ride nearly terrifying as they dodged obstacles and barely missed trees. Tiger held his breath a few times, thinking the Jeep wouldn’t clear between thick trunks a few times. One of the side mirrors didn’t make it when it slammed into a tree, exploded from the impact, and Tiger heard paint scraped off the side of the door.
“Don’t drive out into the open when we get there. We’ll sneak up behind them and take them out. They won’t hear us with all that racket.”
“Fuck that. I’m hoping to draw them away from her.” Slade snarled the words, too enraged to care what happened to them as long as they fired at him instead of at Trisha. “I want them after me instead.”
“They are humans,” Tiger growled. “They don’t fight that way. We won’t draw them off, at least not all of them. Listen to me. I know you are enraged but do what I say. You aren’t rational.”
Slade nodded, knew his friend spoke the truth, but he couldn’t seem to think past the fear of Trisha getting hurt or killed. He knew he’d left rational behind at the first sound of the gunfire when he’d driven off the road.
“Fine.”
* * * * *
Trisha watched Harley flinch, jerk back and grab his bloody arm when a bullet struck him. He didn’t stop firing his gun though. He just gripped his injury for a few seconds before he ignored it.
She wanted to help him but knew it would be suicide to try to reach him. Bullets struck the cabin repeatedly and holes opened up along the wall by the door in a sudden flurry but Harley threw himself down at the last second. He crawled, cursed, and moved to a new location. He stood and began firing again. More bullets tore through the cabin walls as the men outside returned fire. A framed p
icture hanging on the wall near where the couch had been shattered from a bullet, sending glass raining down.
Trisha turned her head to check on Brass, who leaned against a thick support beam while he fired outside. He’d obviously guessed accurately that some of the men would try to sneak up along the back. Trisha heard a noise and stared at the kitchen as the countertop Brass had wedged against the window came crashing down. It hit the sink and slid to the floor. Trisha saw movement as the long barrel of a gun entered from where someone had obviously gotten the window open.
“Kitchen window,” Trisha yelled.
Brass dived for the floor and slid across it a few feet on his belly until he could see the kitchen. He twisted onto his side, gun in hand, and aimed. Brass shot the intruder in the head when a man attached to the barrel of the gun climbed through the window.
The body jerked before he collapsed with half of his body slung over the sink. Brass turned and blinked at Trisha before he dumped an empty clip from the handgun and shoved in a new one. He lunged to his feet to reach his post by the support beam again. His gaze peered out the window he guarded.
“Tell me if you see anyone else, Trisha,” Brass ordered. “Don’t look away. You’re our eyes.”
Trisha mutely nodded but remembered he wasn’t looking at her. “I’ve got your back.” Her voice came out shaky but she knew he heard her when he didn’t repeat the order.
She stared in horror at the body draped through the window. Blood ran down the cabinet under the sink and pooled on the floor. She forced her attention away from the red and the grotesque sight of what was left of his head where pieces were missing. She focused on the window opening instead. If someone used it to enter the kitchen they would be able to shoot at Brass and Harley. Their sole focus needed to be on the outside.
The shooting stopped suddenly and Trisha held her breath. She was afraid to look away from the window and she didn’t. The lives of men she cared about depended on her keeping a steady visual.
“They are reorganizing,” Brass growled. “How you doing, Harley?”
“Two hits but just grazes on my arm and lower leg. I’m good to stand.”
“Moon?”
“Still here and fine. I’ve gotten six of them for keeps and winged two more. They are staying behind the trucks or sneaking through the woods to circle around. Right now they are huddled, probably trying to come with a plan to rush us. I don’t have a good shot from the back. The porch roof blocks my view.”
Brass lowered his voice to a whisper. “Ammo?”
“I’m good,” Moon called from above.
Harley hesitated. “Low.”
“Moon? Cover the front.” Brass kept his voice soft to prevent it from being heard by the men outside.
“Got it.”
“Harley, trade positions with me after you resupply. Hold the back while I fix the problem inside the kitchen.”
Trisha watched Harley limp to the bags on the floor. He shoved ammo clips into his pockets along the legs of his pants. She stared with worry at the blood trail he’d left when he walked. She wanted to tend to him. Brass hesitated inside the kitchen, swept his gaze around it, and crouched. He reached the dead man, grabbed him by his collar, and dragged him totally inside the cabin. He even took a second to check for a pulse. He shoved the body where the stove had once stood to put it out of the way.
He stayed low to the floor when he grabbed the broken countertop and used it for a shield in front of his body when he rose and slammed the heavy piece back over the window. He turned, examining the kitchen. Brass moved, a loud noise sounded, and she watched as he turned, gripped the cabinets that housed the dishes and ripped them from the wall. There were three of them hooked together but he dumped the entire section of cupboards on top of the sink as though it weighed nothing. He studied it before spinning around to meet her gaze.
“How are you doing?” Brass moved toward her.
“I’m fine. Can I look at Harley? He’s losing a lot of blood.”
“You stay put.” He glanced at the bloodstained floor, lifted his gaze to where Harley stood against the back window and frowned. “Harley? Walk to Trisha.” Brass’ gaze returned to her. “You can treat him sitting on your ass right there. You don’t move from that spot.”
Brass headed for the back window. Harley limped to Trisha. She shoved the table out of the way and she focused on the bleeding area. He’d been hit just under his knee on the outer side of his leg. Her fingers shook as she hooked the material of his pants with her fingers where the bullet had torn it open and widened the hole enough to see his bloodied skin. The bullet had grazed him but it was a deep cut.
Harley had a knife strapped to his thigh. She glanced at it first before she met his gaze. He watched her silently.
“Hand me your knife, please.”
He didn’t hesitate to pass it over, handle first. Trisha looked down her body, realizing she didn’t have a lot of clothes on. She gripped the bottom of her shirt and began to slice it. She took off four inches of the bottom and made a large strip and held up the knife, handle first, to Harley. He instantly reclaimed it.
“I would have shot Moon if I had known you’d cut off your clothes if one of us got shot.”
“I heard that,” Moon called out from above.
Trisha laughed as she wrapped the strip around his leg and tied it tightly. “That should hold it enough to slow the bleeding but it needs stitches.”
“It feels better already.”
“Let me see your arm.”
Harley crouched and twisted his big body to turn his shoulder her way. She quickly tore the thin material of his shirt to see the wound. It was a bloody mess. She hesitated.
“I need to feel to see how deep it is and it’s going to hurt.”
He nodded, not looking at her. “We have great pain tolerance. Go for it.”
Even though Trisha hated to do it, she eased her fingers into the ragged wound that was bleeding badly and instantly touched something there. Crap.
“I feel a bullet. I thought you said it was a graze.”
“I lie sometimes.”
Trisha used her fingertip to dig out the damaged bullet after realizing it hadn’t gone deep, feeling lucky that the projectile had gone through the cabin wall before it had struck Harley. It had slowed the bullet down significantly to prevent it from tearing completely through his body. She feared a big vessel had been nicked by the amount of blood seeping down his arm. She had to stop the bleeding and she knew he wouldn’t lie down flat for her to apply pressure until help arrived.
She could try to cauterize it but dismissed that idea. She asked for his knife again and cut off more of her shirt until the material was just under her breasts. She locked her teeth together, hating how she would have to hurt him.
“I’m packing the wound and afterward, I’m going to tie it off. The pressure from the filler will stop or greatly slow the bleeding but it’s going to hurt.”
“Do it but just hurry, Trisha. I need to be on my feet. They will open fire on us again at any time. They aren’t just going to go away as much as we wish they would.”
Trisha balled up a small piece of her shirt and packed it into the hole. It was extreme but she didn’t have a choice. She studied it, saw a decrease in the bleeding, and wrapped a strip tightly around his arm to hold it in place, before tying it off. Long seconds ticked past while she watched the bandage but the bleeding seemed to have stopped.
“Try to keep that arm as immobile as you can. This isn’t exactly a fix but more of an emergency temporary patch.”
He nodded, stood, and shoved the side table back in front of her to shield her from stray bullets. “Thanks.”
Harley retook his position by the front door while Brass stood by the back wall. Suddenly Brass and Harley chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Trisha glanced between them, wondering if the stress of the situation had finally gotten to them.
Brass looked relieved when he glanced her way.
“We have company. The neighbors are on their way to welcome our guests. I can pick up their scents.”
“At least four.” Harley inhaled. “And Valiant is one of them.”
“Poor bastards,” Moon chimed in from above. “This is going to be interesting.”
Trisha just wanted it to be over. She wished she could see what was going on outside but bullets suddenly tore through the cabin again.
“Full frontal assault,” Moon yelled. “They are going for one of the trucks.”
“Trisha,” Harley yelled, running for her. “Get out of there!”
Trisha shoved at the table and knocked it aside. Bullets struck the wall near Brass as he loudly cursed. Harley suddenly gripped Trisha’s arm as she struggled to get to her feet and yanked her toward the stairs. He kept his body between hers and the front of the cabin. Bullets tore through the room from the front of the cabin, embedding in walls and glass shattered.
“Get up there,” Harley snarled.
He released Trisha at the bottom of the stairs. She ran and reached the top before she realized Harley hadn’t followed her. She turned and saw him lying on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Brass rushed the fallen man, grabbed him with both hands, lifted and dumped him over his shoulder to pound up the stairs.
“Trisha, get on the bed,” Brass snarled at her, tossing Harley’s limp form on it first. “Get behind him and stay flat.”
Trisha heard the distinct sound of an engine seconds before an explosion of noise boomed through the cabin so loudly it hurt her ears. She threw herself onto the bed next to Harley. The cabin shook as though an earthquake had hit—one sharp jolt of movement. She screamed, terrified, as wood snapped and groaned. More glass shattered and crunched from somewhere below them on the first floor. The sound of an engine seemed super noisy, as if it were next to Trisha.
“They breached the front wall,” Moon roared.
“Breached it hell,” Brass snarled back. “That truck is parked inside the living room now.”
Trisha saw that Brass took position at the top of the stairs where he’d thrown his body flat onto his stomach. He started firing at something below and gunfire became deafening to the point that Trisha covered her ears. She couldn’t look away from her friend though, too worried for him.