WAR: Opposition: (WAR Book 3) Read Free Page A

her right shoulder. Her backpack slammed into her hip. A woman jumped from the bus and landed on Kirra’s foot.
    “ Eina !” Kirra cried out.
    The woman didn’t even glance at Kirra. She simply corrected her balance and joined the fleeing crowd.
    A man with his back on fire leapt out of the bus. He hit the ground, rolled until the flames were out, then jumped to his feet and fled.
    More gunshots. Closer now and accompanied by shouted orders. The people closest to Kirra dropped to the ground. At first she thought they’d done so to protect themselves from the flames shooting from the back of the bus. Then she saw the bloody wound on the back of a nearby woman and realized she’d been shot.
    Kirra’s stomach churned at the sight of blood, but another round of gunfire kicked her survival instincts into full gear. Her heartbeat settled. Her mind entered that clear, peaceful space she’d needed during a heist.
    Had George been shot? She scanned the area, but didn’t see him.
    “Move,” she muttered to herself. She pushed to her hands and feet.
    A shadow loomed over her from the left. Before she could roll out of the way, a hand reached down, grabbed her arm, and yanked her to her feet. “Look what we have here!” The dark skinned man wearing black fatigues with a red and green patch shook Kirra hard enough to make her teeth rattle. “I found a white lady.” He leaned in close. “Do you know what we do with white ladies?”
    “Go to hell!” Kirra yelled, then butted him in the nose with her forehead. Pain blossomed where she’d hit him, but she ignored it. The man bellowed in rage and his grip lessened. Kirra twisted free and ran.
    A rock stabbed into her foot through the thin soles of her plastic beach sandals. She stumbled. Two sets of hands grabbed her. She twisted, kicked, and jabbed with her elbow and fingers. She used every move her self-defense trainer had drilled into her with hours and hours of practice but it did no good. Neither rebel appeared to feel pain.
    One of them laughed, then ordered, “Enough!” He slammed his fist into her temple.
    Kirra’s head snapped to the side. The world went fuzzy.

    W hen the world came back into focus, she found herself being dragged toward the dark, gaping doorway of a decrepit building half-covered with vines.
    Screams. Darkness. Warm blood coating her arms. Cruel voices taunting. Pain. So much pain she couldn’t think…
    A spike of headache cut the memories off as her mental block once again prevented her from fully remembering. Yet her body trembled under the echoes of violence and her spirit tried to curl up in a ball and hide deep inside.
    “No!” She wouldn’t be a victim again. She struck out at her captors, but her limbs responded sluggishly. Her blows were pathetically ineffective.
    The rebels chuckled. “It is no use fighting us, woman,” the one on her left said. He leaned in so close that she smelled the tobacco on his breath. “There won’t be enough of you to identify when we get through with you. Because you know what we do to women, don’t you?” He gave her a vicious leer.
    Everyone knew what the rebels did to women. Rape. Mutilation. Death.
    The rebels dragged her through the doorway and across a concrete floor covered with dust. Kirra caught a whiff of urine and animal droppings and the scents took her back to the warehouse.
    Her own voice, barely recognizable, screaming for them to stop…The crunch as her cheekbone shattered beneath Franz’s kick…
    Panic swamped her, giving her strength. She fought wildly, all training forgotten. She couldn’t stay here. She’d die this time. She had to break free.
    But the rebels only laughed. They dragged her into a back room and shoved her to her knees. Kirra screamed and tried to stand up, but one of the rebels yanked on her hair, tilted her head back, and pressed the tip of his AK-47 to her forehead.
    “Stay still.”
    Kirra froze. Looking up into his hate-filled, dark eyes, she knew he