I moved past the open driver’s side door and climbed into the leather seat. I tossed the mask and pistol on top of the dash. My hands fumbled the keys, then slipped them into the ignition.
The crackle of gunfire melded with the rumbling of thunder overhead. I twisted the key. The engine jumped to life. I pumped the gas, then slammed the door closed.
The incoming rounds pelted the hood and windshield of the SUV. Cindy covered her head, then sunk into the passenger seat.
“Move,” Anna said, returning fire from the open window of the back seat.
I shifted the SUV into reverse and hit the gas. The tires dug into the earth. Orange flashed outside my window as we tore down the long, bumpy drive.
I spun the steering wheel counterclockwise. The vehicle came about. I hit the brakes, shifted into drive, and pushed the gas pedal to the floor.
The gunshots faded away. A single round hit the back window. We raced for the dimness of the woods, traversing the makeshift road.
“Is everyone all right?” I asked, squinting out the windshield.
Cindy sat up in the passenger seat, then glanced in the side-view mirror. She folded her arms across her chest, and nodded.
Shadow groaned and sat on her haunches next to the back-passenger door.
Anna rolled her window up, severing the rush of cool wind that blasted inside the cab of the SUV. She scooted toward the center of the bench seat, then leaned forward. “Yeah, we’re good back here. Are you all right?”
I nodded. “I’m fine.”
We drove along the path that snaked through the trees. I checked the side-view mirror, then the rear view for the brown truck or any headlights.
Anna looked at Cindy, then back to me. “What sort of mess have you gotten us into now?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SCARFACE
Grizzly lay dead in the ash that gathered on his body. I wiped the blood from the dagger on a piece of his soot-covered shirt, then patted him down.
Where is it?
He had to have the coordinates on him for where Lawson and his friend crashed.
I rifled through his trousers, and found the slip of paper stuffed in his side pocket.
I patted his chest, stood, then pocketed the dagger and paper. A deep, burning cough overtook me. I struggled to breathe. The smell of sulfur wouldn’t go away. I plugged my nose and tilted my head forward, keeping the gray ash and wind away from my face.
The headlights on the jeep flashed in the dim light. The engine grumbled to life. The interior light came on, illuminating Jackal through the heavy-gray snowfall.
A sliver of Jackal’s body could be seen through the ash gathering on the windshield and passenger side window.
I skirted past Grizzly and headed for the vehicle. Chunks of twisted steel lay on the ground around the plane. I took one last look at the wreckage, thankful to have survived the crash.
I slipped through the deep furrow the aircraft carved out of the earth, past the gaping hole within the tail, and over to the other side.
Jackal honked the horn, then pointed at the port side of the plane. His mouth moved and eyes bugged out, but I couldn’t tell what twisted his nerves.
I threw my hands up confused. “What?”
Jackal continued pointing at the jet, then threw open his door.
I turned toward the wreckage, then shined the flashlight at the port side of the aircraft. The punishing wind blew ash into my face. I lifted my arm, blocking the onslaught of soot.
A shadowy figure broke from the murk near the wing and rushed headlong at me.
I fell back on my heels, trying to remove the rifle from my shoulder. I dropped my travel bag to the ground as the flashlight washed over the black gas mask the man wore. The two large filters protruding from the sides of the mask made him look more menacing as he closed in.
The strap attached to the rifle slipped down my arm, past the bend. He speared me in the gut, taking me hard to the dirt. He straddled my waist, then punched me in the face.
Jackal flanked us, approaching with his piece trained in our direction as we wrestled on the ground.
I struggled to see through the whirling ashfall. Fire spat near my head. I flinched, then balled my fingers into tight fists. I punched the man in the side of the head, just past the edge of the mask.
His body rocked, but he didn’t fall. He punched me again, then fired at Jackal. I twisted and lifted my body under his bulk, then wrestled him off me. He hit the ground and rolled, then got to his feet. He fired while on the run, heading toward the port side of the jet.
Jackal returned fire, popping off three rounds that pinged off the fuselage. He took a knee at my side while sweeping the area. “You good?”
“Yeah. Guess that was the other guy they talked about inside the jet.” Gray ash pelted my face and invaded my eyes, causing them to sting and burn hot. They watered from the contact.
My fingers rubbed and clawed at each socket to clear away the ash. I looked at the plane through blurred vision, then clamped my lids shut.
Jackal patted me on the shoulder. “Let’s finish this guy and get the hell out of here.” He stood, grabbed my hand, then pulled me from the blanket of ash.
My jaw throbbed and my midsection ached from the punishing blows. I shook my head, tilted it forward, then opened my eyes.
Christ.
The glassy tint waned, giving me a somewhat clearer picture of the wreckage and my surroundings.
The rifle and flashlight sat in the dirt at my feet, ash
