A Very Venom Christmas - Kristine Allen Page 0,27
she’d been attacked in her own driveway. She made a sound of protest but did as I said and rolled over.
Leaving my underwear on, I climbed in bed behind her and wrapped my arm around her middle. As she snuggled into me, it really hit me that she was pregnant. Cautiously, I slipped my hand under the edge of her sleeping pants, found her still flat belly, and splayed it protectively over her soft skin.
She placed her hand over mine, but neither of us said a word. Surprisingly, we both fell asleep quickly.
“Sergeant Pruitt! Oh God, help me. Please.” Specialist Conway was crying out, but I couldn’t get to him. Every time I tried to make a break from my covered position, I was forced back by the incoming rounds.
The stench of the battlefield was so embedded in my nostrils, I doubted it would ever go away. Trucks were turned over and burning, my squad was scattered, and I had no idea who was alive and who wasn’t. It was a smoky, chaotic hell.
I started to cough, choking on the thick smoke. The more I coughed, the further away my soldiers’ screams traveled. “Hold on!” I screamed.
Eyes flying open, I frantically searched for my weapon. My hands came up empty, and I began to panic. For a moment I was stuck in the nightmare of burning flesh and the screams of my brothers.
The smoke in the air sent another wave of coughing through me. It was enough to make me realize I wasn’t in Iraq anymore. I was lying in bed with Loralei, and the house was on fire. Smoke was rolling in from the open bedroom door.
“Motherfucker,” I said and started coughing again. I scrambled out of bed and closed the door.
“Loralei! Wake up!” In a mad rush, I ran to the bathroom, jerked the towels from the bar, soaked them, and brought them back.
I pulled my clothes on and shoved my boots on without socks. She mumbled in her sleep but didn’t move. She’d been facing the door, while I had been somewhat sheltered in the curtain of her hair. I prayed she hadn’t breathed too much of the acrid smoke.
“Babe, wake up!” I shook her, then rummaged through her dresser to find a hoodie. Dressing her while she was half conscious wasn’t ideal, but it was fucking cold outside. The thick fuzzy socks I shoved on her feet would have to do, because I didn’t have time to find shoes. The flames were glowing under the door. I threw one of the wet towels down to seal the bottom somewhat.
“Loralei!” I screamed as I tried to open the bedroom window.
She lifted her head and coughed violently as she braced her hands on the bed and pushed up.
“Here.” I gave her the other wet towel to hold over her mouth and continued fighting with the ancient window. When I was about to break the damn thing, it finally busted free, and blessed fresh, but cold, air blew in. Unfortunately, the fresh oxygen must’ve seeped through the cracks of the door, feeding the greedy flames.
They started to lick up the inside of the door, and I knew we were out of time. Not waiting for her to get up, I scooped her into my arms and darted for the window. I raised my foot and kicked out the screen.
Unceremoniously, I dumped her out into the snowbank under her window. She clambered out of the way, and I jumped and rolled. I’d barely gotten to my knees when a brief zipping sound registered right as a chip of the siding hit me.
“Someone’s fucking shooting at us,” I gasped out as I grabbed her and ran for my truck. We took cover on the driver’s side as I jerked on the door handle, praying my keys were still in my pocket. When the locks sounded, I sent up a prayer of thanks.
“Stay down and get over!” I told her as I shoved her in the cab. She slid over to the other side like a wet eel right as the window above her head shattered.
She screamed, and I swore. I used my hand to shove the brake down and the other to push the start button. Once the truck was running, I scrambled up and slammed it in drive. Tires spinning, the truck fishtailed before the wheels caught and we shot forward.
We drifted around the corner, and I prayed again that we didn’t roll over.
“What the hell is going on?” she