Ever Hayes - Redemption

Then he turned to me and told me to go with them. No way . I shook my head. “Forget it,” I told him. “You and Blake can’t do this on your own.”

“Hayley, I can’t trust you to—”

“Damn it, Danny, yes you can.” I slapped the water. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that . “I made one mistake. It won’t happen again. You need me out there.”

He paused, and I could see in his eyes I wasn’t wrong. He did think he needed someone else’s help. He just wasn’t sure yet if that person was me. “Fine. You want to help, you do exactly what I say.”

“Okay.”

“Hayley, I mean it. Exactly.”

“Okay.” I get it .

It would be hard to approach the snipers without being seen. Those guys were specifically watching this river for any movement. I watched Danny slip into the water, submerge to eye level, and start drifting downstream toward the four identified snipers. Danny’s rifle was wrapped in a black plastic bag and he held it just above the water—as he searched for a spot to set up.

He was headed directly for a large log in the river, and he swam up behind it--apparently unseen. He was about three hundred yards from the snipers now. He turned and motioned for Blake to follow him, and Blake slipped into the water beside me. Blake moved smoothly and quickly away from me—toward Danny—and a couple minutes later they were side by side behind the log.

Danny and I had always used decoys when duck hunting back in Minnesota. I didn’t like shooting ducks, but they were great bow practice, so I always went along and typically hit my fair share. But using decoys and being a decoy are two very different things. I knew what Danny wanted me to do, and my racing heart clearly understood the implications, but I had volunteered. He knows what he’s doing. It just feels stupid .

When I saw him gesture at me, I took a deep breath. Twenty feet to that rock. Scream, thrash, and dive deep . I took one more deep breath and moved to the middle of the river. I stood up and screamed—twice even for good measure—and then I darted back and forth in the water like I was insane for about five seconds. Finally, I dove underwater and swam straight for the rock in the middle of the river. I had no way of knowing if my scene had been seen—if I’d done enough. I did, however, know I hadn’t been shot, so—if nothing else—I was at least alive enough to try it again.

I waited two minutes as instructed and peeked around the corner of the rock toward the log where Danny and Blake had been. They weren’t there anymore. I looked back at the rock where I’d come from, and Eddie, Flynn, and Ava were all staring at me. I shrugged. I still didn’t know if the plan had worked.

The snipers saw Hayley. Immediately. But her antics were bewildering enough to get them to leave their cover for a closer look. As one of them set up to take a shot, he was taken out instead. By the time the guys on higher ground realized they’d been duped, they were too exposed to escape. Blake took one down, and Danny shot the other. But the fourth sniper was on the run.

He disappeared around the bend. Danny wrapped his gun back in the bag as Blake sprinted out of the water. Blake ran along the edge of the river toward the cliffs, and climbed for higher ground, where one of the snipers had been stationed earlier. Danny meanwhile was swimming quickly down the river. He swam past the three fallen snipers and was rapidly approaching a small waterfall. He could see the last sniper still fleeing in the distance. As he closed on the waterfall, he found his footing, stepped up out of the water, and leaped off the falls. He fell through the air and back into the deep water at the base of the falls—managing for the most part to keep the bagged rifle up. He heard two shots behind him and saw the fleeing man fall. But then he saw him get back up. He heard two more shots, but they must have both missed—they didn’t further affect the fleeing soldier. Blake only had one more round in that rifle. Danny knew he wouldn’t use it. It was up to Danny now.

Danny continued to paddle furiously through the water. He was gaining ground on the injured man, who appeared to be dragging his right leg. Danny was approaching another waterfall now, this one considerably taller than the last. He watched the sniper disappear out of sight, climbing down the falls on the left. A large tree was hanging out over the falls, and as far as Danny could tell, it wasn’t going anywhere, no matter what hit it. As Danny crested the waterfall, he reached out for a sturdy branch and caught on to it, pulling himself up. He saw the sniper set up behind a rock seconds before he felt a bullet tear through his left arm. The swaying tree had prevented a kill shot.

Danny knew he wouldn’t be able to set up his own rifle shot hanging from this branch, so he followed his instincts and tossed the rifle. He knew the sniper would see it fall. But he also knew the sniper was trying to guarantee his next shot was fatal. He’d let the gun go. Danny looked below him at the churning water, took a deep breath, and dropped the eight to ten feet from the branch toward the deepest part of the pool.

He hit the water and dove to the bottom, anchoring himself to a large boulder. His left arm burned, but he clenched his teeth and quickly drew his Springfield from its holster. He held his position underwater as long as he could, waiting for any sign of the sniper. He couldn’t hold out much longer—his lungs were on fire now. Fortunately, the man finally gave himself away—about forty seconds later—anxious to exact revenge for his own injury. Danny saw a shadow loom over the edge of the churning pool and knew he was there—waiting for that last shot, if it was even necessary. Maybe he thought Danny was already dead.

Danny pulled his cap out of the pocket on his cargo pants and let it float up. As it breached the surface, Danny saw the familiar trace of a bullet fired through water—not unlike a jet stream racing across the sky. The guy was trigger-happy—nervous. Danny knew he had two or three seconds before the sniper was ready for him again. He couldn’t let that happen. Danny shoved toward the surface, swinging his Springfield up as he broke through the water and emptied the magazine into the man standing at the edge of the pool—four, five, six, seven shots. The man staggered back and fell—clearly dead—and Danny gasped for air. His arm was aching and bleeding—the bullet had torn straight through his left triceps.

Danny clutched at his own arm and stepped out of the water, climbing up beside the dead sniper. He tore off a strip of the soldier’s uniform and used it to wrap his arm. Then he untucked and unbuttoned the sniper’s shirt and placed a large rock on top of his chest. He buttoned the man’s shirt back up as far as he could, dragged him into the water, and shoved him into the deepest part of the pool. Danny watched him sink and then climbed back up toward Blake. They needed to hide the other bodies to hopefully prevent Qi Jia from narrowing their search to this one river—if they hadn’t already.

Danny was angry now… perhaps more than he’d ever been. More than I’ve ever seen him anyway . Blake had followed Danny after the escaping sniper and was now helping him come back up the mountain to us. When I saw Danny’s arm bandaged up, I panicked, but he glared at me and waved off my concern. “I’m fine.”

You don’t look fine . Ava wrapped her arms around him, but he even brushed her off. “Let’s bury these assholes.” He stepped away from Ava.