“Why do we have to take both?” asked one of the others. “I mean, we could just cap the gimp, and drag her back…”
The guy who'd had his pistol between Jo's shoulder blades shifted around to stand between the two of them. “Look, we know what he wants, jefe…he said bring back everything. To me, that means everyone, too.” Now the gun aimed at the ground as he used his free hand to argue his point with the leader about keeping them both alive.
Reese ignored the words and let anger fuel his movements. He whipped his left arm out like a snake, and drew the blade in a single, fluid arc. The knife flashed briefly like a diamond as the leader’s flashlight reflected off the stainless steel blade. Reese wasn't sure exactly where to strike the man next to Jo, but he knew he had to do something to get the guy out of the way.
The blade hissed through the air and Reese felt skin and muscle separate at the first sign of resistance. Dark blood—illuminated by the thug’s flashlight—sprayed through the air in a fine mist as Reese's knife exited the back of the man's neck. The thug cried out in a gargle, raised his hand with the pistol to the side of his neck, and managed to spray blood in an arc about three feet in front of him as he turned. The others, all within range, screamed and stepped back as the bright red arterial spray caught two of the three gang members by surprise.
Reese turned and bolted into the darkness, satisfied to hear Jo's heavier footfalls behind him. They ran three car lengths away and crouched behind a cold pickup truck when the first bullet sparked across the hood of the vehicle next to them. Jo squeaked in surprise and slapped a hand over her mouth. But it was too late—the sound had traveled, and the thugs knew exactly where to aim.
Reese turned on his heel and leaned in close. "Split up—you go that way, I'll go this way. You go as far as you can and don't stop until dawn. Find a place to wait, and at sunset, make your way back here. I'll find you."
"Got it—go," she said, and pushed Reese away before she plunged into the darkness. Reese turned and ran in the opposite direction. He slapped the hood of several cars as he sprinted down the road.
“This is crazy!” he said to himself. He hoped the noise was enough to draw off his pursuers and leave Jo—who, he’d discovered over the past week, was in considerably worse physical shape than himself. If she could slip away, she’d be free to disappear into the darkness. Reese hated to split up, but with three armed attackers after them—now supremely upset, if their angry shouts were any indication of their mood—they were as good as dead if they stayed together.
Reese tripped over something in the road and fell painfully to his knees, barely able to contain the scream of agony as the road destroyed the skin of his lower legs. He got shakily to his feet and leaned against a dark car before he sent up a silent prayer that his attackers had lost the trail. Sweat dripped down his cheeks as he panted, and Reese crouched behind the car and listened over the thundering of his own heart for footsteps. After a long moment, he focused on his breathing and eventually came to the conclusion that they were no longer on his trail. The ruse had worked.
He smiled to himself in the darkness and rose to his feet, then crouched down again as he heard a gunshot crack in the distance. Flashlights appeared and disappeared through trees the way he had come. They illuminated a steep embankment that led from the road down to a drainage gully. Several indistinct shouts echoed back and forth, followed by a woman’s scream and coarse laughter.
Reese gripped the bloody knife in his hand with white knuckles. They’d found Jo. “No…” he whispered through clenched teeth.
She screamed again, and another gunshot echoed through the night. Reese froze, unable to move, unable to make a decision. Which way to go? Follow the group and help her or slip away into the darkness? Was she even alive? Did that second shot announce Jo's death?
Reese closed his eyes and wiped sweat from his face with the back of his left hand, careful not to stick himself with the bloody blade. Despite the chill evening air and the stiff breeze that flowed from the east, Reese was drenched in sweat. He had to do something.
Resolution made him stand taller. “I couldn't help Ben, but I'm not gonna walk away from you.”
He turned and hurried as quietly as possible back the way he'd come along the side of the road. As he drew alongside a car, he crouched and shuffled forward to make sure no one from the other side of the road could see him. The closer he came to the spot of the carjacking, the louder the voices grew. Four or five cars away, someone laughed, and Reese heard Jo whimper. He closed his eyes in relief and rested his forehead against the cool metal of the abandoned car. She wasn't dead.
"Now what do we do with her?" growled one of the assailants. “Look at this mess…”
"That puta took out Charlie," the short MS-13 thug complained. "We gotta take her back. El Jefe gonna mess her up, yo.”
"We should put a bullet in the back of her head just leave her for the vultures," snapped the leader as he shined a flashlight in Jo's face.
Reese clenched his teeth and tried to keep his knife hand
