Cannon

6

Cannon ripped the door open and saw a female in a battle stance, eyes squinting from the light of the moon. She was young, small, terrified, but ready to defend herself. Cannon felt sorry for her, but that rapidly morphed into respect. She looked so young and frail.

“Are you Ryver?” he asked in a hushed tone.

The woman stared at him without a word. She eyed him wearily and appeared to be in shock. The immediate sense of protection swept over him. He had to get her out of there and make sure she got home safe. Now.

“Come on. Let’s go.” Cannon outstretched his hand then heard her whisper.

“Shackled.”

He moved to her, took hold of the remaining chain against the wall, and tore it from its hinges. It smacked down onto the floor loudly, and she cringed.

“I’m Cannon.” He met her gaze and held it to let her know he was serious. “I was sent to get you. I’ll get you out of here. Come on.” He took her by the hand. She was only wearing a T-shirt and pajama pants. She was likely terrified and embarrassed. Cannon did not acknowledge the overwhelming smell of urine and feces as he guided her out.

Her hands were cold, and she held on tightly.

Cannon looked out beyond the shack. He could only see a few more men wandering about, but it seemed like no one had noticed his presence just yet. He tapped his earpiece.

“Home base,” Gus said.

“Got her. On the way out.”

Cannon glanced over his shoulder at his target. He couldn’t stop the growing protective instinct taking over him. She was staring off into the moonlight and breathing heavily. He squeezed her hand and motioned toward the right side of the shack.

“We’re sneaking out of here. You good?”

She nodded, not making eye contact with him.

Cannon knew there was nothing he could do at that moment to ease her fear. He wanted to hug her. To tell her he’d make sure she would be okay. That was too strange of an emotion to feel for a person he didn’t know. So instead, he guided her out of the shack and motioned for her to crouch with him. They crept along the side of the tent. He motioned for her to stop, when to move, when to be quiet. She hadn’t chosen a career in the military, but she knew instinctively how to follow orders.

Just as they were approaching the edge of the camp, a loud piercing alarm went off. This brought Cannon to life instantly. “s**t, we have to run.”

RYVER

When Cannon took her by the hand, Ryver instantly felt his strength. It was an odd thought to have in the middle of a rescue, but a nice one, nonetheless. He stood tall over her small frame as they moved through the compound. She was dazed from thirst, hunger, and fear, but she felt safe being near him. She noticed his slicked-back, red hair as he watched for guards.

He was very attractive. She shook her head, not believing she was thinking these things when she was just ready to escape people who were potentially going to murder her.

The alarm sounded and pierced through her fantasizing mind. She noticed he had taken out his gun, then informed her that they had to run, but he would protect her with cover fire. She nodded, then felt a multitude of lights shoot on around them in a circular motion. Suddenly, they were completely exposed.

“Go, run now,” the man whispered as he pulled her through the entrance of the camp. He blasted the two men who stood in his way, their limp bodies falling to the ground like dolls. Ryver had no shoes on, so she could feel every cool edge of the forest floor as they smacked against it. The man was pulling her as they ran, seemingly in a certain direction as shots rang over her head, then in front of her.

They stopped abruptly in the forest. He pulled her to the ground. “f**k. There’s someone ahead of us. Damn it. We scouted this area already. It was clear. Stay here for a second.”

The man crept forward to the point where he was only a shadow in the moonlight. Ryver heard shots and that familiar sound of bodies hitting the ground. He returned and took her by the hand once more.

“Come on. We should be fine...”

A bullet blasted past them through the tree trunks and grazed Ryver’s forearm, sending an involuntary cry out into the jungle. She glanced at her arm seeing her injury wasn’t bad, more irritating than anything. There was another person ahead of them.

“f**k, f**k,” Cannon continued to whisper as he grabbed her arm, holding it down with great strength. He looked around frantically then grabbed her hand. “You’re going to be okay, but right now, we have to change course.”

As she watched, he stuck his hand into a pile of brush and dirt and pulled out a backpack. At least he was prepared, she thought.

The pain in Ryver’s arm burned, but even she knew it wasn’t life threatening. She ran with him as hard and as fast as she could. The man seemed to be running at an inhuman speed, one that she could barely keep up with. He noticed this and swept her up in his arms. She would’ve complained but he didn’t even slow down while carrying her. She was grateful because she was seconds from falling behind. Terror pumped through her heart, and nothing tired you out more than fear.

The man kept looking back, seeming to check if they were being followed. The sound of bullets began to fade into the distance as they avoided them under the thick blanket of trees.