south of Highway 16. Wide-open pastures and rolling countryside spotted with stately homes.
“Soon as I get another tower, I’ll get us out of here,” Carlos told her. He sounded irritated, and tired.
She shouldn’t care. Maybe he was tired because he’d kidnapped a couple more women tonight already. But he was standing between her and death so she’d help as much as she could until he proved to be a threat.
Confidence had been easy when she hid from the Anguis behind a computer. The keyboard had been her sword and anonymity her shield. But survival now depended on showing her strength in spite of quaking inside.
Escaping this guy would take more skill than she possessed.
Familiarity bred confidence. No matter how many one-word irritating replies he gave her, she had to keep him talking and hope he finally started communicating.
“Any signal yet?”
He shook his head without looking at her.
“Reception is even spottier south of the city.” She regretted sharing that information when his jaw flexed with frustration.
“I can check my phone for a tower,” she offered, reaching where she had it hooked on her pants waist.
“Is it waterproof?”
“No, but-” She pressed the power button since it was dark. Nothing happened. “It’s dead. Is yours waterproof?”
Carlos gave her a look that questioned her IQ level.
“No.” She pitched her phone into the back and sighed. Thank goodness her laptop hadn’t been drenched. She’d run solo for ten years. No help, no real friends, since she’d moved every two years to make tracking her more difficult. With the exception of rare visits to see her family, she’d spent more time with this guy tonight than with anyone else in years.
If Carlos hadn’t come along, she’d have been gone and no one would have known. She fought against the idea of trusting this stranger, but had to admit she didn’t have much choice right now. So far, he’d earned something from her even if she couldn’t call it trust.
That didn’t mean she’d stick with him if she saw a chance to run, but no harm in playing along in the meantime. Her stomach growled loud enough to be heard over the buffeting wind.
She rubbed at her pounding head, then reached between the seats for her backpack, which was now on the rear floorboard.
His hand shot out to stop her. “What are you doing?”
“Getting something for my headache,” she snapped before she could check her tone. Not a bright idea to yell at a man with a gun. Gabrielle sighed. “Getting shot at tends to give me a headache.”
The corners of his eyes narrowed as if in question, then his face turned hard, but he released her then thumbed a button on his phone. He watched every move she made. Once her hand returned with a small travel tube of aspirin, he settled back into his seat, wrists flexing with tight control on the steering wheel.
She lifted the tube to unscrew the cap.
He suddenly stuck his head out the window, looking over his shoulder, then jerked back inside. She paused.
An approaching whomp, whomp, whomp reached her ears.
She stuck her head out her side. Wind swatted hair all around her face. She shoved a handful out of her eyes in time to see the lights of a jet helicopter bearing down on them.
“Get inside!” Carlos stuck the phone into his jeans pocket and downshifted. “Buckle up!”
Dropping the aspirin, she wrenched the belt across her chest and stabbed twice before she clipped the buckle. The minute she did, popping sounds hit the rear of the Jeep.
Gunshots.
He grabbed her around the shoulders as the Jeep took a hard left toward a pasture. When he pulled her toward him, his hand cupped her face protectively just before the Jeep crashed against a wooden gate in their path. Busted wood slapped the windshield and debris pelted her arms, but she didn’t feel a cut. As soon as they were through the fence, he released her and fought the steering across the rutted field.
The helicopter dropped out of nowhere to hover just above the ground at fifty feet, blocking their path to dense woods. Wind lashing off the rotors shook the Jeep.
Gunfire ripped loose, boom, boom, boom. Bullets struck the hood.
Carlos spun the Jeep to the right, lifting up on two wheels, then slammed back down. He gunned the accelerator, but the helicopter roared overhead and dropped down again to land between them and the clearest path to the woods.
Moonlight glinted off three men spilling out of both sides of the helicopter, including the pilot. They ducked under the slowing rotors, and every one of them held serious-looking weapons. Machine guns?
Popping sounds erupted. One bullet ripped through Gabrielle’s side of the Jeep, but missed her.
She would have screamed if she could breathe. They were going to die.
“Tuck down!” Carlos spun the Jeep in a one-eighty, shooting his handgun as he wheeled around.
She obeyed immediately, wishing she could disappear. With her head turned to the side of her lap, she could see beyond the half door that offered no protection.
One of the shooters went down.
The Jeep took a hard left, then plowed ahead full speed into the woods as if Carlos had found a path.
She popped upright. No path.
The older pine and oak trees with thick trunks were at least spaced wider apart than the width of the Jeep, so far. Her heart bounced with the hope of escaping this bunch. Then, God willing, she’d get away from Carlos. He might have been right about the DEA guy being Baby Face, or he could have been lying to her.
All of them could be lying to her.
She twisted around, looking for anyone chasing them.
“Fuck!” Carlos skidded the Jeep to a stop and slapped the steering wheel.
No translation was needed this time to alert her things had just gone severely downhill. She took one glance at the ravine in front of them flooded by the headlights and agreed with his assessment.
He rammed the shifter into reverse and started backing up wildly. Or at least it would have been wild if she’d been driving, but he seemed just as in control backing through the woods at sixty miles an hour as driving forward on a highway at ninety.
He slammed to a stop and wheeled hard to the right, running along the ravine, snapping saplings with sharp cracks.
A loud explosion boomed right before a smoke screen billowed in front of them with no chance to avoid it. The Jeep ran up on a stump that lifted the two passenger-side wheels off the ground.
Her body tilted toward the driver’s door.
She clamped her teeth against the scream gushing up from her chest and grappled for anything to anchor herself.
Carlos released the wheel and threw his weight toward her, grabbing and turning her body to his. Glowing dash lights lit his face. “I’ve got you.”
In that one fleeting instant, she thanked whatever angel had sent him to her. She didn’t know who he was or whom he worked for, but this man was trying to protect her with his life.
He held her tightly, still shielding her as their Jeep hurtled out of control.
The Jeep slammed a tree on the left, jarring her teeth, then counterbounced to the right, throwing her body back and forth, but he never let her go. The cab hit another tree and knocked it sideways, spraying broken glass everywhere.
His arms and body had covered her, preventing her from being injured.
When they stopped moving, she was clutching him and trying to breathe.
His chest expanded with a couple deep breaths, then settled into a rhythm of control she envied. He released her and tried to gun the engine forward, then in reverse. They were stuck on top of something and didn’t have enough traction to get free. He cut the engine and turned to her; his eyes took her in with one quick sweep.
“You okay?” The concern in his voice might be her imagination, but she needed it right then.
“I think so.” She still clutched him.
He reached across her arms to grasp a triangular glass shard stuck in his forearm and grunted. Blood gushed
