The First

Chapter 65

Ross attached the Velcro end of the elastic bandage around Savannah's ribcage. The flow of blood didn't stop like he'd hoped it would. He looked away while she pulled her tank top back on. It still had the bullet hole and blood stains from the sniper rifle.

He gently took her hand and set it against the bandaged area. "Keep pressure here." 

For the first time, he saw genuine concern in her face. Uncertainty oozed from her. 

"We need to leave ... now." She tugged his arm.

He thought he heard a pop but could still move his right shoulder. Remember, she's a killer, not a beautiful young blonde. He had to keep telling himself. Each move he made might set her off.

"What exactly are we dealing with here?" Maybe he'd know which weapons to select if he knew the odds against them?

"Shhhh. Stop talking," she whispered. "I need to listen."

Savannah's angst ate into him. The army of termites started in his stomach and led up into his chest. You've done this before. Time to fight your way out—again.

Her eyes eclipsed into black moons and her nostrils flared.

This can't be a good sign.

"What is it?"

"She's here." Jagged nails bore into his skin as she pulled him outside.

"Take it easy. Remember, I'm human. Also ..." He couldn't help but notice her clothes. "... if you're gonna fight, you have to lose the skirt."

Savannah started to unbutton her black leather skirt.

"Wait." Ross grabbed her hands. "Stay here for one second." 

In the back of one of the firefighter's lockers, he found a pair of midnight-blue women's Nike leggings.

"Put these on." He tossed them. 

Savannah snatched them out of the air, took one look, and raised her eyebrows.

"Jesus. Just put them on." Ross folded his arms. It worked on his girls, so why not?

She scowled and pulled them on under her skirt. "We go up ... now."

Ross returned to her side. Savannah started to climb. In one quick jerk of the rung, she launched herself onto the roof.

"Wait up."  

She didn't stop or pay attention to him.

When he finally got to the roof he stopped to catch his breath. And as the great Danny Glover once said, "I'm too old for this shit." 

Savannah stood with her arms down to her sides, claws out, watching the western sky. He couldn't help but look at her perfect figure while the sun sank into the depths of the rolling coastal mountains. A full moon ignited the evening with a baneful glow cast across the horizon.

"I guess ... we should get ready." The bag of weapons sat against a venting pipe on the other side of the roof.

"It's too late." Savannah backed up to Ross's side. "She's already here. You'll be dead before you get to your weapons."

Ross didn't see anyone. Before he could get to his knees, Savannah grabbed him by the back of his belt and tossed him across the roof. Pain bolted through his knees and hips. When he stopped sliding he'd landed next to the weapons.

She nodded toward the row of guns on the ground. "Now get ready."

Ross raced to the line of weapons. He slapped a clip into the Uzi he'd used earlier and swung both over his neck and shoulders. Then he made sure to stack the clips close to him. Once he'd loaded both tactical rifles, he picked up the Desert Eagle semi-automatic pistols and shoved them into his shoulder holsters. In the bottom of the bag, he found night vision goggles. At least the dark wouldn't be a deterrent to their cause.