Anchor

Chapter 9

Gabriel

Cold.

Everything is cold.

Cold and numb.

I'd give anything for just a few minutes under the hot desert sun. I'd take the bombs, the endless, desolate panoramas, and even one hell of a dust storm for one ray of sunlight.

Something.

Anything to warm up my icy insides again.

The phone is ringing.

Is Emily calling?

Shit, was I supposed to pick her up today? Taylor will be pissed.

I sit up and my head spins.

God, I must have drank too much.

A hand shakes me and my traumatized brain conjures up a picture of a beautiful woman, all doe eyes and long hair.

Chloe.

I shoot straight up, ignoring the vicious pounding in my head. The ringing wasn't coming from a phone. It's coming from my own ears. Chloe is laying across my legs, her eyes fluttering, and soft groans bubbling up from her throat. Then her eyes open and she looks right at me.

"What the hell happened?" she asks, her voice cracking. She wets her lips with the tip of a pink tongue and lifts her uninjured hand to her brow.

Remembering Jones pushing Chloe, who knocked me down, I scan the wheelhouse and find it empty.

"Shit!" I get to my feet and offer her my hand. She looks up at me as she takes it and I pull her up. "The bastard just can't help shoving you, can he? I'm going to kick his ass."

"Where'd he go?" she asks.

"If he's smart, he jumped ship." I go to the fridge where I found his store earlier and find the gun still there. Finally, something goes right today. "Do you see where the other gun went?"

She glances around, confused. "I must have dropped it when he pushed me over."

A quick glance around the room and the gun doesn't turn up. "Best to assume he has it."

"Gabe," Chloe says.

I cross to the dashboard and radio Tyler. The line crackles but is otherwise silent.

"Gabe!"

I radio Tyler again, but still no response. Chloe yanks at my shirt and I turn around ready to snarl. "What the fuck?"

"The captain," she hisses and forces my head around with her hands.

The space where he was propped up against the wall is vacant and he's nowhere else in sight. I stride back across the room and rip the radio off its hook. "Tyler, it's Gabe, are you there?"

"Gabe, we're here," the radio crackles.

"Thank God." I give him our location and as I'm in the middle of relaying what's happened since we last spoke, I hear the ping of a bullet off of the dashboard. I drop the mic and cover Chloe's body with my own, but not before the next whizzing bullet causes her to cry out in pain.

I don't even notice when a third cuts a path of fire through my side or when a fourth shatters the glass above the dash, causing it to rain down on us.

"Are you—"

"If you ask me if I'm okay again, I'll strangle you myself," she says. "It's just a scratch."