Fifty-Four

Isobelle

Austin lopped towards us, followed by Grayson and an injured Mason. Lucas sprinted back; he was bearing Austin’s discarded belt in his jaws, and he dumped it onto the floor by Alex’s feet. Alex stooped to retrieve it and used it as a tourniquet to stem the bleeding. My eyes beseech him to look at me as he worked, but he stubbornly resisted.

Is he really that mad at me?

I turned my attention to my injured husband, needing reassurance that he was okay. “What about Mason? He's hurt too.”

My stab wound had already knitted together, but Mason's injury was bleeding out.

“They shot him with a Silvertip,” Grayson said panting, his brow set into a concerned grimace. “Alex dug out the bullet, but there's still some shrapnel embedded in the wound.”

Austin licked his injured shoulder, making us aware that he’d been shot too.

"Hurry! Everybody take cover,” Grayson urged, pointing toward a deep trench in the ground.

We scrambled into the pit to seek shelter from the blitz. Grayson and Alex