Free Fire And Steel (The Merryweather Chronicles Book 2) by Lesley Woodral Page B

plenty of adults there. Teachers and parents, to watch out for the students coming and going."
          Brandon shook his head. "They should have canceled it. There's no way that they can watch all the kids, all the time."
          Claire leaned over. She said, smiling at him. "Guess we'll have to go then, huh?"
          Brandon frowned at her. "I'll have to go, you mean? You're going to stay home. And be safe and warm, while I'm playing bodyguard to a cafeteria full of kids."
          "Oh, really? And how EXACTLY are you going to stop me from going? And I suppose I'll need your permission to leave my house too? Maybe you should choose who I vote for too?" She arched an eyebrow at him, her smile frosty. Before he could respond, she broke into fond laugher. "Just wanted you to hear how sexist you just sounded just then, my love. But, seriously, I am going." Claire ate a bit of French fry and said. "I could help. An extra set of eyes could mean the difference between life and death. Well, one extra eye can't hurt." She grinned crookedly.
          "I know." Brandon said, looking at her. He smelled jasmine in her hair as it brushed his shoulder. "But I won't be able to focus as well if I'm worried about you all night."
          "Then don't worry about me." Claire said. She tossed her hair and looked at him. Her smile was wan and beautiful. "If it wasn't for you and your uncle, Emily would be dead. I want to help. And you can use me. You know you can."
          Brandon didn't say anything for a moment. He just looked at Claire and thought of the way her lips felt against his. The way they tasted. She met his gaze for a second then dropped her eye, her cheeks going a little bit pink. Brandon said. "I don't want to use you, Claire. But if you want to help, I guess I can't stop you."
          Her smile lit up her face. "Good. Because I have the perfect idea for our costumes."
          Brandon blinked at her. "Perfect?"
     
          The sun was a bright ball in the sky overhead when the radio crackled to life on Faux's hip, cutting through the uneasy hush hanging over the woods around him. Teague's voice came low and clear. "We may have found something. Over."
          Faux thumbed the radio and spoke into the microphone clipped to his shirt collar. "Copy. I'll head your way." He stood in the middle of the woods, flanked by searchers on either side of him. The men looked to him for direction, so he keyed his radio. "Everybody else hold position until we give the all clear. Stay within sight of each other and come running if your hear gunfire."
          A chorus of "Copy"s came across as Faux moved off in Teague's direction. Or, at least, the direction he thought the acting chief had went. After a couple of minutes of walking and searching, it was Teague who ended up finding him. He called out from where he stood by a tangled copse of trees and brambles. As Faux walked up, Teague crouched and pointed at what looked like a hidden dugout. Covered by broken branches and torn vines, prickly with thorns.
          Faux hunkered down next to Teague and said. "What have you got, Chief?"
          "Acting chief." He said, by rote, before pointing at what looked like the entrance of a tunnel. "I have a feeling we're going to find more dugouts like this all through the woods. The mountains around here have been all mined out. For coal, mostly, though there was iron too. The woods and hills are riddled with caves and sinkholes, perfect for something to hide out in."
          "Shit." Faux said, standing and eyeing the woods around them. It was colder than yesterday, but the sun overhead cut some of the bite out of the wind gusting through the trees, making the back of his neck break out in gooseflesh. He looked at Teague and shook his head. "You know what this means, right?"
          Teague nodded. "We go in after them or we draw them out to us. Either way, men will die."
          "What about gas?