Kyla was left speechless.
The Marine reached over and patted her on the shoulder, which, in turn, caused her to wince with pain at stretching it.
“Your wound,” Kyla scolded. “Be careful.”
“I’m fine. I think it’s healing nicely.”
Kyla chuckled, despite everything. “You know, all things considered, I’m glad we ended up together. If I can make myself half as tough as you, I don’t think I’ll have to be scared for the rest of my life.”
“It’s ninety-nine percent attitude. Pain and discomfort are only temporary. Badassery lasts a lifetime.” She flashed one of her rare smiles, though Kyla thought it was mostly a front for hiding her pain.
After they settled back into a routine, Kyla spoke up. “If I can’t call my uncle, and we can’t find them in this traffic, what are we going to do next?”
Meechum pointed to a green road sign. “What do you say we take a chance and get off the highway? This exit coming up looks promising. No town around. No nothing out there.” She pointed out her window to the rolling grasslands. “Heck, the previous owners of this truck did the same thing. Who’s to say we haven’t been struck by the food truck trots, too?”
“First of all, yuck. Second, how do we know they don’t have planned places where they can get off the highway? Won’t we stick out?”
The Marine shrugged. “Anything is better than getting wherever this convoy is going, then having to congregate with enemy forces. I think I’d be encouraged to shoot until the last bullet if given the opportunity. I could take out fifteen or twenty of them, I bet.”
Kyla had a sudden onset of panic at thinking of her friend going into a suicidal charge. While there was no question she’d take a lot of the enemy with her, it would still leave Kyla by herself. Suddenly, being alone with the invaders seemed a fate worse than death. She tried to come off sounding upbeat. “It won’t come to that. Let’s get the hell down the ramp, like you said.”
The landscape around them hadn’t changed too much from earlier in the day. Wyoming was still the same endless sea of tall, wild grasses, with a few small hills, but it was sliced by a swath of trees ahead, as if a small river ran west to east. As best she could tell, the exit ramp was going to take them to a gravel road that paralleled the trees.
Meechum merged onto the exit ramp and whistled a quiet tune, as if to keep herself from being noticed as they gradually put distance between themselves and the tractor-trailers up on the highway. By the time they reached the intersection of the gravel road, Kyla copied the whistling, doing her best to echo the tune.
Kyla looked behind them. No one was following. “What song is that? I like it.”
Meechum checked her mirror. “It’s the Marines’ Hymn. The halls of Montezuma, and the shores of Tripoli. Someday, there’s going to be a line about the maddening grasses of Wyoming.” She hit the pedal. “We’re in the clear.”
As they turned, Kyla continued to watch the exit ramp behind them. A big crane exited the highway the second before Meechum drove them under the bridge.
Meechum continued her tune, eyes forward.
But Kyla knew they weren’t alone.
Fort Collins, CO
Ted figured they couldn’t easily escape the situation, but Darla made it impossible. She yelled at him and Emily the second she came up to Todd.
“You two! Get your asses over here. I was promised a security detail while in Fort Collins, and it looks like all your friends are protecting those stupid cranes. That makes you two my meat shields.”
He shared a worried look with Emily. She cinched her blue bandana as high as she could, then winked at him. “We got this.”
Ted firmed his grip on the rifle. “Yeah, we do.”
When they returned to the group, Darla instantly singled out Emily. “What’s wrong with you? If you’ve got the flu, I’m going to need you to stay far away from me. I can’t afford any sick days during the biggest performance of my life.”
Emily took one step back. After a brief hesitation, she spoke. “I had the flu a couple of days ago, ma’am. I don’t think I’m still contagious…”
“Enough! You stay at the edge of this parking lot. The rest of us are going to cross the street so we get the best light from the setting sun.” The reporter pointed to Ted, smiling for the first time. “But you’re coming with me. I want you attached to my hip.”
He could tell by Emily’s eyes she was on the verge of replying, probably in a not-flattering way, but he beat her to it. “My friend will be fine on this side of the street. We were going to fan out anyway, to keep an eye on as much terrain as possible. Once the trucks arrive—”
Darla held up her hand. “Just get it done. I’m here for me, not to listen to your lesson plans.”
He shrugged, then turned to Emily and spoke quietly. “Merks gotta merk. Am I right?”
She laughed. “I’ll be studying the gravel.”
He whispered, “If shooting starts, run back to the truck.” She would be closest to the SUV, since she was staying on the wide parking lot.
“You know I will,” she bragged.
“Uh huh,” he replied, watching her walk away.
“Hey, Rambo!” Darla snarked. “Stop looking at your friend’s butt and get over here.”
He whipped around. “I wasn’t—”
“Don’t care. The trucks are waiting on me. I want to get this right on the first take. I can’t turn the whole convoy around to try it again, can I?”
Todd and his assistant were already in position on the far side of the street. Darla eyed the trucks waiting in line as he crossed with her. She studied the sun, low at the western horizon, then positioned herself so the light hit her from the side. It appeared as if
