Sun Storm Page 17

  Mac’s jaw clamped tight as he narrowed his eyes. “I thought I had you.”

  “You should never have claimed to know the people who live here. That was your first mistake.”

  Mac shrugged and reached into his pocket.

  David cocked the weapon. “Careful.”

  Mac held a hand up. “It’s a piece of paper.” Using two fingers he withdrew a folded sheet from his pocket and handed it to David. “There’s a reward for you two. A hundred thousand dollars. I called for backup, but they said they’re waiting for the highway to be cleared. I’m supposed to stall you.”

  It had to be another lie. Portman had probably triangulated their position when they’d called him from the truck. They hadn’t been able to cover much ground after they parted ways with Jake. Marshall’s men would’ve branched out, searching from the last known location. Mac probably wasn’t working alone, which meant they needed to leave. David cursed.

  “We have time to get away.” Marie opened the paper. “There’s just a picture of us. No mention of a reward. Mac, how could you? You know they’ll kill us.”

  Mac shrugged. “It’s a hundred thousand. I could do a lot with that money.”

  “A hundred thousand? That’s what Portman is paying you?”

  “It was two hundred thousand split four ways—fifty thousand each. But you took the twins out so I got a pay raise.”

  “You were in on this from the start?”

  “Yep.”

  “Where the hell where you when I was with the others?”

  “I followed in your truck. We were supposed to leave it behind otherwise there would’ve been questions about how you got there.”

  “Then you returned it to PDE.”

  Mac shrugged. “We needed a vehicle after you shot the tires.”

  “Son of a bitch.” David had the sense of being a leaf, blowing in the breeze. He had no control over his destination or how he would get there. He was reacting to whatever obstacles Portman could throw at him. In his mind, he was fourteen again and his stepfather was lying on the floor dead. He hadn’t been able to protect Sinclair from Russell’s advances. He hadn’t even known what was happening, but this was different. He was different. He was older, stronger, and trained to survive. He would protect Marie, and he would find a way through this ordeal. “This is what we’ll do. Mac, you’re going to come with us.”

  “Why can’t we take his truck, destroy his phone, and leave him here?” Marie asked.

  “We could, but he must’ve given Portman his location. What will happen once his associates arrive?”

  Marie shrugged.

  “Mac will be able to give them a description of us. I want to get into Canada before our new look is flashed all over the media.”

  Marie touched her hair. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “Plus, he might be able to give a description of our vehicle. If we take him with us and dump him in the middle of nowhere, then he’ll have to walk to the nearest phone, and that will give us some time.”

  “I suppose it’s that or kill him.”

  David nodded. “We might only get a few hours’ head start, but by that time we’ll be close to the Canadian border.” He had no intention of heading north to Canada. They would go west into Idaho. Once they were across the state line he would call Finn and go to the police. Wait. They could use Mac’s phone to call Finn.

  David waved the Shotgun at Mac.” I want you to toss your phone into the living room.”

  Mac’s eyes narrowed as his nostrils flared and his body tensed. Hate oozed from every pore.

  “Two fingers.” David reminded him.

  The phone bounced off the window and landed in a shattered heap of plastic.

  “Damn it. You did that on purpose.”

  Mac shrugged.

  “Why would he destroy his phone?” Marie’s voice raised as she shook her head.

  “So we can’t use it. Have you ever driven in the snow?”

  “Yesterday was my first time.” Her lips trembled. He couldn’t say if she was reacting to the idea of driving on the icy roads or the fact that Mac had a photocopy with their faces on it, and he wasn’t about to ask. There was nothing he could do to change their current predicament so they might as well get on with it. “You’ll do fine. Just remember to gun it through the snowdrifts and slow down for the turns, and don’t use the brake.”

  She frowned at his explanation.

  If their situation wasn’t so dire, he might have smiled. He’d just told her to speed up, go slow, and not use the brakes. Oh yeah, he was a real genius.

  Holding the shotgun on Mac, David motioned for Mac to open the door. A gust of cold air hit him as Mac stepped outside. Snow had drifted so the right side of the yard was almost bare, whereas the snow on the left stood in deep mounds.

  David froze at the threshold. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He knew that feeling. It was a gut reaction, an instinct that had kept him alive in Afghanistan. Ambush.

  He studied the landscape. The house was situated on the side of a hill. To his left, the land dropped away to reveal a stunning view of the valley below. On his right was a steep incline where the topography included a densely-forested rise. It was the perfect place for a sniper.

  Mac stood knee deep in snow, a few feet ahead, the good-old-boy persona was back in place. “I guess we’ll have to shovel this to get—”

  A crack sounded in the cold still air.

  He flinched as Mac’s body slumped to the ground. A pool of red sprang from the side of his head and spread, staining the pure white snow.

  “Get back!” David slammed the door, and then hurled himself at Marie, sending them flying through the mudroom and across the kitchen.

  Bullets punctured the kitchen door, sending pieces of floor and wall flying in all directions. He forced her to the ground and covered her with his body, trying to protect her from the shrapnel.

  The shots hit the house at an angle, telling him there was one shooter stationed on the rise. The sniper would move soon, repositioning for a clearer shot. That would be their opening, the only chance they would have to get out without being killed.

  First, they needed a way out of the house. There were no other doors or exits. They were trapped.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Marie’s heart slammed against her ribcage as she gulped for air and struggled to make sense of what had happened. One minute she’d been walking out behind David, and the next...bullets, blood, and snow.

  David pinned her to the floor, squashing her. More pops sounded. He grabbed her around the waist and rolled them to the stairs.

  She fought, shoving at his shoulders, trying to escape his vice-like grip. “We need to help him.”

  “He’s gone.”

  She pounded his arms. They couldn’t leave Mac behind. He needed help.

  “Marie, he’s gone. There’s nothing you can do.”

  The meaning of David’s words sank into her mind. “Gone? He can’t—”

  “We’re trapped. Right now, we’re out of range, but soon the shooter will move closer.” He put his hands on either side of her face so she was forced to listen. “That’ll be our only chance to get out of here.”

  She gasped at the futility of their situation. More shots rang out in the cold morning air. Holes punctured the walls, causing chunks of floor to splinter.

  David sprang to his feet and darted to the line of hooks near the door to the mudroom. He grabbed all the keys and then threw himself across the room. Splinters of floor, glass, and crockery flew as bullets trailed a path behind him. He landed in a heap at her feet.

  Marie grabbed his shoulder, guiding him to the safety of the stairs. “Why’d you do that?”

  “We’re not going to be able to escape on foot. We need a vehicle. The bastard has an assault rifle.”

  “Does that matter?”

  “Yeah, the one I used in combat shot six hundred rounds per minute and was accurate to two hundred feet. Our
only option is to go through that window.” He pointed to the large picture window that ran along the side of the house.

  “I don’t know if that’s possible. It’s not like the movies. You can’t just jump through glass. When I replaced the windows in my house, I learned about their construction. There’s a good chance it won’t break, and you’d bounce off and land on the floor. If that doesn’t happen and you went through, it would cut you to ribbons, or worse, hanging pieces could guillotine you,” she shouted to be heard as bullets peppered the house.

  He winced at the thought. “What do you suggest? That window is our best way out.”

  “What about upstairs?”

  “No good. The drop is too steep on that side, or we’d come out on the same side as the sniper.”

  “If we can punch a whole into the corner, then it might shatter and we can knock out the rest.” Modern panes were layers of glass and plastic, making it almost impossible to break.

  “How long will it take?”

  “Longer than we want, and smashing the window would be loud, too.”

  “Okay, we’ll have to do it while he’s still shooting.” He glanced around the wrecked house. “I don’t see any other choice.” He aimed the shotgun at the window and fired. A small hole appeared in the corner surrounded by a series of tiny holes. The rest fractured into tiny pieces, but remained in the frame. “Damn.” He crouched low and crawled to the stack of wood under the stairs, grabbed some logs, and then crawled to the back of the room. Once he was in position, he stood and hurled a log at the window. The glass disintegrated, allowing frigid air to blast in, but the hole wasn’t big enough. He threw another two logs, aiming for the remaining glass.

  The shooting stopped.

  David put his finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet. The gunman must be moving closer.

  “Time to go,” he whispered. “I’ll jump down first. You follow. I’ll catch you. Okay?” He leapt, curling into a ball, with his knees to his chest. She didn’t have a chance to stop him. It wasn’t safe. There were still pieces of glass hanging from the frame.

  The idea that a shard could decapitate her made her hesitate. But David was down there, exposed, waiting for her to jump. She rolled her shoulders and then ran. Coiling her body as tight as she could, she jumped, clearing the window. She hit the ground hard and bounced, her mouth filling with snow. So much for him catching her.

  Before she could find her footing, he grabbed her hand, dragged her against the cement blocks that supported the house. “Do you see how there’s a dip in the land?” he whispered.

  She nodded. The owners had built a retaining wall to keep the ground from sliding down the hill. They stood in its shadow. The footing on this side was uneven and sloped as it gave way to a sharp incline. One misstep, and they would fall into the ravine below.

  He leaned close and whispered, “We’re going to use it as cover, and it’ll lead us to the back of the barn. I just hope that’s where they keep the vehicles. Stay low. Do not poke your head up to take a look. You’ll give away our position. We also need to move silently. It’s important that he doesn’t find us. You got that?”

  She nodded and followed his lead, mimicking his movements. The snow had the consistency of fluffy sand that blew into her face.

  Finally, he stopped. He pushed her against the wall and waited. Everything was quiet and still. There wasn’t even any wind to rustle the trees. She craned her neck to see his face. When he didn’t make eye contact, she realized he was listening. The shooting had stopped. A crack of splintering wood echoed through the frozen air, and then the shooting resumed.

  “He’s in the house. Let’s go.” Without waiting, he grabbed her around the waist and shoved her to the top of the retaining wall. They were only a yard from the back door of the barn. David scrambled up behind her and then twisted the door handle, careful not to make a sound.

  “Stay behind me.” He passed her the bundle of keys.

  Her fingers fumbled, sorting three sets, a Jeep, a Ford, and a Chevrolet.

  “We’ll take the Ford. It’s too old to have Bluetooth, in-car navigation, or computerized components. It’s the blue one. Climb in and start her up.” He breathed the words into her ear. The cars were lined up in the barn. The Chevy pickup was on the right, the brand-new jeep in the middle and the dented, old blue ford on the left.

  “Are you coming?” She kept her face close to his so she didn’t have to raise her voice.

  “No, I’m going to draw his fire while you get a head start.”

  She pulled back, staring at him. “I’m not leaving you behind.” After all they’d been through together, he thought her so selfish she would abandon him to face a sniper alone.

  “Yes, you will.” He gave her his cold, intense stare.

  She wasn’t intimidated. “No, I won’t.”

  “You will, and that’s an order.” He moved closer, bending his head so he towered over her.

  “I’m not one of your soldiers. You can’t order me around. If you’re staying, I’m staying.” She clenched her teeth, straining with the effort to control her voice and not shout at him.

  “Be quiet. You’ll give away our position,” he whispered.

  That gave her an idea. “I’ll scream if you don’t come with me.”

  “You are a pain in the ass.” He smiled, but why he should smile at a moment like this was beyond her.

  She poked his chest. “So are you. Come up with a better plan because we are staying together. You know as well as I do that I won’t make it without you.” She hoped that last bit of logic would sway the argument in her favor.

  He kissed her lightly on the lips, stunning her into silence. Then he rocked back on his heels. “As far as I can tell, there’s only one shooter. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s discovered the broken window and is heading for us. He’s positioned somewhere between the house and the barn, which means he’s on our right. I could be wrong, but since this shotgun is no match for an assault rifle I’m not going to stick my head out to see.”

  “Okay.” She had no idea where he was going with this. Maybe he was just talking aloud while he thought things through.

  He moved to the back of the other truck, put his hands on the side, and pushed, creating a sloshing sound. “There’s gas in the tank.”

  “I told you we’re—”

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not going to drive it. I’m going to blow it up.”

  ****

  David wasn’t sure if his plan would work, but they were backed into a corner. The snow was too deep for them to escape on foot through the wilderness. Not only would they become mired in the snow, but there was a chance they could suffer serious frostbite or worse.

  “How are you going to explode a truck?” Marie was pale and shaky, probably a little shocked, too. Not surprising given the circumstances, but he could only deal with one situation at a time, and getting them out of this barn and away from the gunman had to be his priority.

  “These old Chevy’s have sidesaddle fuel tanks that sit outside the frame. I’m going to put the truck in neutral. Hopefully it will roll down this incline.” He pointed to the cement floor of the barn.

  “I didn’t notice the slope. What about the doors?” The big barn doors at the front of the structure were closed.

  “I think they’re controlled by that panel.” He pointed to a switch near the back door. “Then I’ll push the truck to get it to roll down the slope.”

  “Then what?”

  “Hopefully it’ll stop at the door of the barn, between us and the gunman. You’re going to turn onto the driveway, away from the house. Stay to the left of the Chevy. I’ll shoot the gas tank. That will put a burning truck between us and the gunman.”

  “I don’t understand how shooting the gas tank will help us.”

  “The smoke and fire will provide cover so the shooter won’t be able to get a good shot.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to rig the tank to explode and then
start the truck and wedge the gas pedal with something to—”

  “No, it’ll probably blow us up, too, and I’ve seen enough bodies blown apart to know not to get too close.”

  Her eyes darkened as she nodded. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

  “First we have to make sure the Ford runs, so go start her up and be ready to drive when I give the order.”

  “I won’t go with—”

  “I know. The moment I’m in the truck, you drive. You’ll have to step on the gas to make it through the snow. We can’t afford to get stuck. If we do, we’re dead.”

  She nodded, climbed into the vehicle, and shifted the driver’s seat forward so her feet reached the pedals.

  He was relieved when she revved the engine. He strode to the passenger door and stood, waiting as she reached over and unlocked it.

  “How much gas does it have?” He placed the shotgun on the back seat.

  “Half a tank.”

  He nodded and jogged to the back of the barn and pressed the button that opened the overhead door. Shots rang out as he pushed the Chevy toward the entrance.

  The sniper kept up a constant fire, his automatic weapon shooting large holes through the barn wall. The front of the Chevy took continuous hits. Finally, it gathered enough momentum and rolled on its own. He ran for the Ford. “Go, go go.”

  He scrambled onto the back seat and slid open the rear window, steadying the shotgun, preparing to fire. The Chevy came to rest in a deep pile of snow just outside the barn.

  Marie turned onto the driveway, steering to the left of the Chevy, blasting through the snow.

  Bullets peppered the Chevy as the gunman moved toward them.

  They passed the truck. David aimed and fired. The pickup exploded on the first hit.

  Marie sped up. Snow had drifted to the left of the driveway. She steered to the right. The Ford skidded, but she regained control and kept the vehicle on the trail.

  Pretty Boy Brad ran around the edge of the smoke cloud, strips of white bandage across his broken nose. He had an assault rifle with a scope but didn’t aim his weapon. They were probably out of range. They turned onto the highway, heading north.