Page 2 of Sawyer’s Mistake

Sawyer laughed, looking around at everyone except at Saoirse, who was now busy tightening the straps of her backpack. He got the same feeling he always did around her, of being in over his head. Ever since he first met her, he’d felt the danger she could represent to him.

He’d always liked women, and women had liked him back, but now she was the only woman he seemed to be able think about. She was a true Irish beauty. Her coloring, with her flaming red curls and her pale, creamy skin, would always have been striking, but now, with the end of the world looming so close, hers was an almost unearthly beauty. She was smart, too, probably the only person who could help them crack the voice box they’re stolen from the Remur.

“Sawyer?”

Sawyer realized Storme was speaking to him. He hadn’t heard a single word.

I need to stay away from her. Can’t afford to get distracted.

“Sorry?” Sawyer said, lamely.

“We need to get out of here,” Storme repeated. “With all this noise, we’re lucky the Remur aren’t here yet.”

“Technically, each of these roads should lead to Brussels,” Meir said, narrowing his eyes at the map. The Israeli intelligence officer hated not having enough data, but it was impossible to know which of the three roads before them, if any, would be clear of Remur.

Sawyer and Storme exchanged a glance. One way or another they’d make it to Brussels and find the Pangea Colony, a group of survivors who claimed to have the weapons and the manpower to fight the aliens.

“We’ll split up. Zander, Eva, and I will take the main road. Meir, you drive the second vehicle with Kopf and Prado.” Storme looked at Sawyer. “You okay to drive?”

Sawyer saw where this was going, but he didn’t have to like it.

“Sure thing, Storme.”

“You and Saoirse take the new stealth vehicle down the smaller road. Keep in touch and let’s see which one looks cleanest. We need to get to the border by tomorrow.”

#

Saoirse

Saoirse sat ramrod straight on her seat, watching the dusty road through unseeing eyes. She couldn’t stop thinking about the man in the driver’s seat. She found him infuriating: a walking, talking contradiction. With his dirty blond locks, bright green eyes, and tanned, handsome face, the Canada native looked more like a surfer than a soldier. How did he manage to look so tan and relaxed, with everything that had been going on the last two years?

There was a lot to admire about him. He had an easy smile and a way of speaking that set everyone around him instantly at ease, even in the most difficult situations. In the last few weeks since they’d met in Paris, she’d seen him put that trick to good use several times. And yet, the smile rarely reached his eyes. There were parts about him he kept hidden, and when he looked at her, specifically, it was with an intense, knowing expression, as if he had seen the real her and found her oddly wanting.

She found herself wanting too, most days. It seemed strange to her that she would have survived when so many people more talented, braver, and stronger than her had perished. It was no coincidence that the team were all soldiers. She was the exception, the odd one out, a linguist more at home in her lab than out on the road. She would still have been in hiding at the Residence, had it not been for the little black box the Remur had created—and which the team had managed to steal from a Grim Reaper.

A shiver of excitement went through her when she thought of the box. The alien technology translated Remur language, which to human ears sounded like a series of grunts and huffs, into English. She’d been spending a lot of time with the box since they got their hands on it, but there was still so much she didn’t know about it.

Saoirse wanted to hold the box in her hands but knew it was safest in the other vehicle, with Eva, for a couple reasons: first, Eva was a badass soldier in her own right, who had already proven she could kill a Remur with her bare hands, and second, she was riding with two soldiers, whose combined weight totaled over four hundred and fifty pounds and who would both die to protect her.

A bump on the road brought her attention back to the car. She flew upwards, too slow to wrap her hands around the bar in front of her. She readied herself for the pain when her head hit the roof of the vehicle, but Sawyer’s arm shot out beside her to hold her in place. He took her weight easily, holding on to her until she was back in her seat.

She didn’t know what to make of him when he acted in this protective manner, so at odds with the way he treated her most of the time … as if she were contagious.

For a long time, neither of them said a word. Saoirse didn’t mind the silence so much. Silence, or rather the gap between words, had always been an important part of her job, back when she still had a job.

She heard a soft intake of breath and looked up at Sawyer.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

He hesitated for an instant before replying, “I think we drew the short straw. Take a look at those tracks; the Remur have been here recently.”

She was grateful he didn’t try to spare her. She was good at telling when people were lying to her and much preferred being told the truth.

“So, what do we do?”

“We need to leave this road.” His hands were white on the steering wheel, but his voice was calm.

“Are we going to be okay?”