CHAPTER 7 FIRE IN THE DARK
1481 Words
Gunshots exploded across the arena, echoing off the steel rafters like thunder. The once roaring crowd had scattered, leaving behind overturned chairs, dropped drinks, and the raw smell of panic. Smoke drifted through the spotlights as guards stormed the cage with weapons raised.
Jaxon didn’t see any of it.
All he saw was Rafe bleeding out in his arms.
“Stay with me,” Jaxon whispered, pressing his hand firmly against the bullet wound in Rafe’s side. Blood spilled through his fingers, warm and terrifying. “Rafe, look at me. Hey look at me!”
Rafe’s eyes fluttered open, glassy and dazed. “Jax…”
The sound of his brother’s voice hit Jaxon like a punch to the chest.
Lena reached through the bars, tears streaking down her cheeks. “Jaxon, the guards, they're coming!”
Jaxon lifted Rafe with trembling strength. “I’m not leaving him.”
The cage door burst open as three armed guards charged inside, rifles raised.
“Drop the body!” one shouted.
Jaxon snarled. “Over my dead body.”
He grabbed the chain that hung from the top of the thick metal line used to anchor the lighting and swung it in a brutal arc. The steel links cracked across the first guard’s helmet, sending him collapsing to the floor.
The second guard fired.
Jaxon dove sideways, shielding Rafe with his own body as bullets tore through the sand.
Lena screamed, “Jaxon! Behind you!”
The third guard lunged forward, aiming a strike for Jaxon’s neck. Jaxon rolled, grabbed the guard’s arm, and slammed him facefirst into the metal bars. The guard crumpled, unconscious.
Rafe groaned in pain. “Jax… don’t… fight them all…”
“Watch me,” Jaxon growled.
He lifted Rafe again just as two more guards stormed the doorway.
They aimed.
Jaxon braced himself
A deafening explosion ripped through the arena.
BOOM!
A fireball blew open part of the upper balcony, sending debris raining down. The blast shook the entire arena, knocking both guards to their knees.
Jaxon blinked through the smoke. “What the hell…?”
Lena gasped. “Who did that?”
Figures emerged from the haze of five masked men in tactical gear, moving with military precision. They didn’t attack Jaxon. They attacked Viktor’s guards.
Gunfire erupted from every corner. The masked men moved quickly, silently shooting to disarm, not kill. They weren’t part of Viktor’s syndicate.
They were enemy combatants.
But whose?
Jaxon didn’t have time to ask.
One of the masked men grabbed the cage door and shouted, “Move if you want to live!”
Jaxon tensed. “Who sent you?”
The masked man replied without hesitation. “Someone who doesn’t want Viktor winning.”
Jaxon glanced at Rafeweak, bleeding, slipping away.
He didn’t have a choice.
He nodded.
The masked men formed a protective line, guiding them through the collapsing arena. Gunfire blazed. Explosions shook the walls. Rows of seats toppled as the balcony groaned overhead.
Viktor’s voice echoed through the chaos, amplified through hidden speakers.
“JAXON! YOU CAN’T RUN FROM ME!”
Jaxon growled under his breath. “Watch me.”
Lena kept close, clutching her side, terrified but determined. Jaxon shoved through smokefilled aisles, carrying Rafe’s weight with both arms.
Another explosion sent sparks raining down as the masked men shouted, “This way! Move!”
They led Jaxon through a narrow hallway behind the arena, flickering with red emergency lights. Guns clattered in the distance as Viktor’s men fought the new invaders.
Rafe coughed weakly, blood staining his lips. “Jax… m’sorry…”
Jaxon’s breath hitched. “No. No, you don’t apologize, Rafe. You hear me? You’re coming back with me. I lost you onceI’m not losing you again.”
Rafe gave a faint, broken smile. “Always… stubborn…”
Jaxon almost choked. “Shut up and stay alive.”
One of the masked men stopped at a steel security door, planting a device on the lock. The others surrounded the trio, protecting them with shields.
Lena looked at Jaxon. “Is he going to make it?”
Jaxon didn’t lie. His voice cracked. “I don’t know.”
The device beeped. The door blew open with a pop. Cold night air rushed in like a blessing.
“Go!” a masked man ordered. “We’ll hold them off!”
“But who are you?” Jaxon demanded.
The leader lifted his mask just enough to show his eyes hard, sharp, familiar.
“You don’t know me,” he said. “But I know you. And I know Viktor. And the next time you see me… we settle things properly.”
A rival.
Or an ally.
Jaxon couldn’t tell.
The masked man pulled his mask down again and turned back into battle.
Jaxon sprinted into the night with Rafe in his arms and Lena at his side.
The alley behind the arena was dark, lit only by flickering street lamps. Viktor’s compound rose behind them like a metal fortress.
Lena pointed. “The vanthere!”
A black van waited at the curb, engine running. Jaxon recognized it instantly.
It was the make and model used by the underground resistance, the group who had been fighting Viktor’s rise to power for years. The same group Jaxon had once refused to join.
The driver leaned out the window. “Get in!”
Jaxon laid Rafe gently across the backseat as Lena slid in beside him. Jaxon jumped in last. The van peeled away just as bullets shattered the rear windows.
Jaxon shielded Rafe’s head as glass rained over them.
The van fishtailed around a corner, barreling into the night. Sirens screamed in the distance. Lights flashed behind themViktor’s men gave chase.
The driver shouted, “Everyone hold on!”
The van skidded sharply, throwing Jaxon against the frame. Lena clutched Rafe’s hand tightly.
Rafe’s breaths were shallow.
Too shallow.
Jaxon pressed both hands over the wound again. “Rafe, stay with me. Stay awake. Look at me.”
Rafe’s eyes barely opened. “You… came back…”
“I never left you,” Jaxon whispered.
The van hit a pothole. Rafe winced, his body arching in pain.
Lena’s voice shook. “Jaxonhe’s losing too much blood.”
Jaxon clenched his jaw. “Driver! How far is the safe house?”
“Two minutes!”
“He doesn’t have two minutes!”
Rafe’s hand weakly grasped Jaxon’s wrist. “Jax… listen…”
“No,” Jaxon said fiercely. “Don’t you dare.”
Rafe swallowed hard. “I… I remember…”
Jaxon’s heart leapt. “What do you remember?”
Rafe closed his eyes, tears slipping down his temples. “The fire… the men who took me… Viktor standing over me. I… I tried to fight, Jax… I swear I tried…”
“You did good,” Jaxon whispered, voice breaking. “You survived.”
Rafe gave a faint laugh, empty, and painful. “Barely.”
Lena stroked Rafe’s hair gently, tears dripping from her chin. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
For a moment, Rafe’s gaze softened at her voice. “You… were the voice I heard… in the dark…”
Jaxon froze.
Lena’s lips parted.
Rafe continued, “Every time they tried to break me… a voice pulled me back. Your voice.”
Lena covered her mouth with her hand.
Jaxon swallowed hard. “Rafe, you’re going to live. You hear me? We’re not done.”
Rafe exhaled shakily. “Then you better drive faster…”
The van skidded to a halt in front of a fenced warehouse. The driver jumped out and threw open the back doors. Two medics rushed out, hauling a stretcher.
Jaxon helped them lift Rafe out, his hands shaking. Lena followed, stumbling from exhaustion.
As they raced Rafe inside, he grabbed Jaxon’s shirt weakly.
“Don’t let… Viktor wins…”
Jaxon nodded fiercely. “I won’t.”
Rafe’s hand fell away as the medics pushed him into the operating room.
The doors slammed shut.
Jaxon staggered back, breathing hard, covered in blood that wasn’t his.
Lena touched his arm gently. “Jaxon… we need to talk”
He stepped forward suddenly, slamming his fist into the concrete wall. The sound echoed across the warehouse.
His voice cracked.
“I should have protected him!”
Lena flinched, then slowly wrapped her arms around him from behind. “You did. You’re doing it right now.”
Jaxon’s breathing slowed. He turned, resting his forehead against hers.
For a moment, just a moment the world paused.
Lena whispered, “We’ll save him. Then we finish this.”
Jaxon nodded, his voice low and trembling with fury.
“Viktor took my brother… hurt the woman I care about… and destroyed too many lives.”
His eyes burned with unstoppable resolve.
“Now it’s my turn.”
If you want Chapter 8, I can continue right away.
- Writer
