“Seatbelt!” he commanded.
I grabbed for the clasp, trying in vain to remain calm. The small, dark man galloped toward us on all fours. Jared stomped on the gas pedal. The nozzle was still tucked in the Tundra’s gas tank, and after a quick yank, the line came free of the pump, dragging behind us as Jared fish tailed onto the highway.
I rolled down the window.
“What are you doing?” Jared yelled.
“Your gun!” I said, my heart pounding against my rib cage.
“Here!”
He pulled his Glock out from behind him, and placed it on the seat between us. I grabbed it, and then leaned out the window. Jared grabbed a fistful of my dress to keep me from tumbling to the road below. The small man stood in the parking lot, chin down, watching us flee with his unnatural black eyes. I stretched out my arms in front of me, and pointed the gun at him, aiming at his forehead.
“What are you doing?” Jared yanked on my skirt, pulling me into the cab of the truck. “You can’t kill him!”
“Why in the hell not? He was going to kill us!”
“Once the demon leaves, the Shell is human again. He’s an innocent, Nina.” Jared pressed a button on his door, and my window rolled up, cutting off the wind that had blown my blonde hair into a wild mess.
I turned to keep an eye on the Shells. There was no telling how many had turned. The fuel line swaying against the asphalt distracted my attention. The nozzle finally broke free of the Tundra, and rolled into the ditch. A loud boom vibrated the truck, and a ball of smoke and fire rolled into the sky. The small man still stood in the street, glaring at us, just in front of the roaring flames.
“Jared!” I cried.
“So much for that,” Jared said, frowning. He peered into the rearview mirror to assess the damage. A column of fire shot up from fuel pumps. It would be a miracle if any of the people we’d left behind survived.
“Those people,” I moaned, touching the palm of my hand to my forehead. My eyes filled with tears, and I turned to face the front.
A few miles later, two large fire trucks, a pumper truck, and an ambulance raced toward us. All four vehicles ran hot, full lights and sirens screaming, fading away as they passed. The ambulance trailed behind, but the second its back bumper was in line with ours, it flipped around.
“Jared?”
“I see it,” Jared said, grabbing his side arm from the seat. He reached over, pulling my seat belt tight, and then without slowing down, jerked the Tundra to the right, turning one hundred and eighty degrees until we were face to face with the black-eyed ambulance drivers. Jared held his Glock outside of the window and aimed, shooting at their tires. The ambulance fishtailed, and then Jared jerked the truck again until we were once again facing north, with the ambulance behind us.
The ambulance skidded, and then tumbled forward, finally cartwheeling across the road and into the field on the opposite side.
As I watched it seemed to happen in slow motion, but within seconds of seeing the emergency vehicles, Jared had taken out the ambulance’s front tires and righted the truck so we could go about our journey. My mind hadn’t quite caught up with the events, but my heart was ripping through my chest.
“I thought you said not to kill them!”
Jared put the gun back in the seat and peered into the rearview mirror. “I hope they’re not dead.”
He picked up his phone and held it to his ear. “Claire. They’re shelling. I need backup.” He snapped the phone shut, and then pushed the phone under his thigh.
“Is she coming?”
He nodded once. “They all are. We just have to get to them.” The Tundra surged forward when Jared stomped on the gas. The speedometer climbed from seventy-five, to eighty-five, then ninety-five. The engine screamed a deafening soprano as Jared desperately tried to get us closer to his sister.
“Maybe we lost them,” I said, more to comfort myself than to convince my husband.
Jared reached his hand across the console and gripped it around mine. We were vulnerable, and he knew it. Any human we came across was a threat. Jared’s hand squeezed tighter, and all color left his face.
“I can’t decide if I should turn off the highway to a road that’s less traveled, or stay and cut down on time.”
“This particular stretch didn’t seem busy when we came through. Maybe we’ll get lucky. It’s the cities I’m worried about.”
We passed only a car or two over the next ten minutes. Every time I saw something in the distance, I tensed and waited. Each time the car would pass without so much as a wave, and the adrenaline would absorb back into my system. I was beginning to feel sick and dizzy after an hour, but I knew we couldn’t stop.
“They’re up to something,” Jared said. He was squinting, trying to focus as far out as he could to see any impending danger.
“How long before we meet Claire?”
“I don’t know when they left. I’m assuming right away. Considering the time of the call and how fast Claire drives, I would say less than an hour. Maybe half that.”
I nodded quickly, trying to make myself feel better. “Thirty minutes. We can hold on for thirty minutes. What could they possible throw at us that we couldn’t handle for that long?”
Jared didn’t speak for a solid minute while he studied the road ahead. When he finally focused on a tiny dot in the distance, his face fell, and his breath caught. “Oh, my God.”
I knew my human eyes wouldn’t have been able to make out the dark blur several miles ahead, but Bean gave me focus I might not otherwise have had. The long, dark blots on the road, dancing against the heat off the asphalt, barreled toward us.
It wasn’t until I tried to form a sentence that I realized my mouth was gaping open. “What do we do?”
Jared released my hand and reached under the seat. He offered me an extra handgun, and then put both hands on the wheel.
A caravan of Army vehicles, a Humvee, three Jeeps, and a large supply truck moved toward us at full speed. The back of the truck reminded me of a covered wagon, only one covered with camouflaged tarp.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said, breathless.
“They’re probably on their way to Fort Story,” Jared said.
“I don’t care where they’re going. This is why things have been so quiet, Jared. Hell knew about that caravan and planned to shell them the second they crossed our path. You have to leave the road.”
“They’ll just follow.”
I sighed in frustration, and then looked down at my watch. “Maybe they aren’t armed.”
“That FMTV transport has an armored cab. It could obliterate the Tundra if I let it get close enough.”
I turned to him and tried a nervous smile. “Please don’t.”
Jared returned my smile, and then nodded, gripping the wheel. He pressed on the gas. I wasn’t sure what he had decided, but he had a plan. It was possible that the drivers of those trucks wouldn’t shell at all. We could pass them without a problem like we had the previous ten or so vehicles. That, of course, was just empty hope. I could feel a strange burning deep inside my bones. Every one of those soldiers had already turned.
Chapter Fourteen
The Most Important Thing
The jeep passed first, and then the Humvees. I was just about to allow myself hope when the transport truck jerked into our lane. Jared didn’t twitch; he just drove faster. The needle on the speedometer vibrated at one hundred miles per hour. I gripped the door handle so tight that my knuckles turned white under the pressure. I trusted that Jared had a plan, but at the same time, soaring down the road to meet an armored truck in a head on collision didn’t sound like a good idea to me.
“Hang on, sweetheart,” Jared said, his voice low. “When I get out, take the wheel.”
