Awake (Book 3)

Three

“August, you don’t have to do this.”

            Blake’s words fell on deaf ears as August tucked a gun in the waistband of his jeans and strapped another to his leg.

            “August, I’m serious. This is a suicide mission.”

            Honestly. August was tired of hearing these guys gripe and groan. He had to do this. Alone. None of them had as much intense training as he had through the years, and none of them had a personal vendetta as huge as his backing him up. Nothing to motivate you like slaughtering each last good-for-nothing bastard who killed the love of your life.

            A set of heels clopped up beside Blake, and by the smell of her perfume, August knew it was Jessica.

            “You can’t stop me,” he told the both of them, zipping up his black duffel and slinging it over his shoulder. “So don’t try to.”

            “We kind of have to, dummy,” Jessica said, trying to sound light-hearted. “We’re your friends. Sorry if we’re a little reluctant to lose another one.”

            Pain spiked his head, not just for Ellie, but for Ryan, too. And Jim. And Esme. And every other soul lost to this heinous cause. To be honest, August was tired. He was tired of fighting for a cause he didn’t even understand anymore.

            “What if . . . what if she’s there?” Jessica questioned quietly, referring to Ellie’s counterpart. August’s jaw tightened and he shut off his mind, shut off his heart, because they wouldn’t do anything for him if they clogged up and kept him from doing what he needed to do.

            “Then I’ll give her a cookie or something, what do you want me to do?” he snapped.

            Jessica and Blake exchanged a surreptitious glance that did not go unnoticed by August, but he didn’t care much to ask about it. He needed his head in the game if he was going to infiltrate one of the top headquarters by the Prophets. Or whatever the hell Angel was calling her army these days.

            Blake set a firm hand on his shoulder, holding him into place. August looked up into his long-time friend’s worried blue eyes. “Please, August,” he begged, brows furrowed. “Please, don’t do this.”

            And to be honest, August almost didn’t. He almost set down the duffel and gave up and gave in. Almost. But giving in wasn’t in his nature, and neither was losing a valuable opportunity.

            “I’m sorry,” he said, shrugging off Blake’s hand. “You can’t stop me.”

            Jessica released an exasperated breath, hands clenching and unclenching in her evident frustration. “August, you’re such a nimrod! First Ryan, and then Ellie, and now you expect us to deal with you gone, too? What the hell will that do? You’re the only one competent enough to lead these people against Angel. You’re the only one who can do that, August.”

            Time was wasting. He needed to get out of here to make it there by midnight. “I’m coming back,” was all he said, staring into her eyes, and then Blake’s, engraining them with his promise. “I’m coming back to you guys.”

            This utter resilience stupefied them, and with their shock, he slipped right by them. And he knew they wouldn’t follow, because following would be futile, as when August set his mind to something, not even the universe itself could stand in his way.