Free The Children and the Blood by Skye Malone, Megan Joel Peterson Page A

long enough for help to arrive.
    Taking a breath, he reached carefully back into the car. The girl made an incredulous noise, and then stared at him like he was insane when he eased back out.
    He held up the cell phone and gun. “Come on,” he said, walking past her toward the slope with much more composure than he felt.
    Gripping her sister’s hand, she followed.
    “Who are you?” she asked quietly.
    He glanced back. “Cole.” It wasn’t an explanation. It wasn’t even much of an answer, honestly. But the truth was complicated, and he couldn’t begin to think of what else to say.
    Her brow furrowed. “Okay.” A pause. “I’m Ashley.”
    They reached the side of the road and the conversation died.
    Tucking the phone into his pocket and the gun into the back of his jeans, he headed for the first of the fallen rocks dotting the mountainside. Hoisting himself up, he grimaced against the protests raised by every muscle he owned. Behind him, Ashley boosted her sister onto the rocks, and then pulled herself up after them.
    Moss carpeted the boulders protruding from the slope, threatening to dislodge him from every inch of height he gained. Scraggly bushes clung to scraps of soil beneath trees twisting at awkward angles toward the sky. The road grew more obscured as they climbed, and soon nothing of it was visible beyond the brush.
    At the first level area, he turned and grabbed the younger girl, pulling her up to his side. Blue eyes like a moonlit pool stared up at him from beneath a mop of jet black hair, and then dropped worriedly away to find her sister. Gripping the rocks determinedly, Ashley hauled herself over the edge and then took the little girl’s hand.
    He glanced around. Forest surrounded them, but farther on, he could see the mountain continuing to rise. He let out a breath, energy draining at the prospect of more climbing.
    Tires screeched to a halt on the road. Doors slammed. A voice, muffled and angry, snarled orders and, a heartbeat later, a car sped away.
    Ashley’s eyes found his, and he could see her shaking.
    Rustles carried from the bushes below.
    The men had split up and they were climbing. Fast.
    He scooped the child into his arms and took off through the forest with Ashley a step behind.
    The tree cover broke ahead of them. For fifty yards, a sparsely wooded plateau stretched across the mountainside, the product of falling rocks barreling through the forest in an old avalanche. Without pausing, he and Ashley tore across the distance, racing for the densely packed trees on the far side.
    A gunshot shattered the silence.
    Ashley screamed.
    Skidding on the dirt, Cole turned. Ashley lay on the ground, clutching her leg as blood soaked her jeans. In his arms, the younger girl twisted, fighting to return to her sister.
    His grip on the child tightened as his gaze went to the forest. Black-clad men emerged between the trees, and one of them was glowing.
    He recognized Reece and his blood went cold. Keller was nowhere to be seen.
    Frantically, Ashley fumbled a knife from her pocket and then flicked it open, pointing it at the men as she struggled to rise.
    “Run!” she shouted at Cole.
    He ignored her, yanking out the gun. “Get away from her!” he yelled, clutching the little girl with one arm as he aimed the weapon at the men.
    He felt the gunshot before he heard it.
    Pain tore through his shoulder. He stumbled back.
    And then there was only air.
    The little girl screamed as they fell into the night.
     
    *****
     
    The bullet flew past her and she heard Lily scream. Spinning around, she saw the boy stumble, agony twisting his face.
    And then they were gone.
    Ashley stared.
    Lily was gone.
    She flinched as the cries cut off. With a gasp, she pushed away from the ground and ran for the cliff. Lily couldn’t have fallen. Lily couldn’t have…
    Her leg gave out beneath her in an explosion of pain and she crashed down, hands skidding across the dirt and the knife flying away to clatter against a