“Maybe you should ride with him,” Hunter suggested as Chase got into the car. “Just to make sure he doesn’t unfasten his seatbelt so he can check out all the buttons and gadgets in the back unsupervised.”
“Good idea,” Payne said, giving Chase a stern look before climbing into the back seat with him, and Chase smiled sheepishly.
Hunter chuckled, then shut the door and moved to the driver’s side. The limo wasn’t a stretch, but it was bigger than a standard sedan, with seating for up to six in the back. Hunter had driven personnel and equipment haulers that were larger, so he had no trouble maneuvering the big vehicle out of the parking space and getting them onto the road.
Payne had already punched the remote filming location for the day into the GPS, so Hunter followed its directions out of town. The sun would be rising before long, but the splatter of raindrops on the windshield told Hunter it was going to be a dreary day. He didn’t mind it, especially if it meant filming was canceled and he and Payne got to play at the BDSM club.
The rain was light at first, but after a few minutes, it developed into a deluge which made it difficult to see in the darkness. Hunter slowed the car, not wanting to overdrive his headlights on the winding two-lane road. He’d driven in all kinds of hazardous conditions over the course of his career, so he tuned out the sound of Payne and Chase talking, his total concentration taken up with the road.
After a few minutes, the intensity of the downpour lessened a bit, and he glanced at the GPS, looking for a place in case they had to pull off the road. Unfortunately the abandoned mill town they were headed toward was in the back end of nowhere, so there wasn’t much of anywhere to make a stop.
The road began to wind up the side of a hill just as the rain poured down again in buckets. Headlights flared ahead of them, and time abruptly slowed for Hunter, all the hair on the back of his neck standing up as the looming certainty of disaster flowed over him. It was like when he’d opened his helmet on that last fateful day and heard the horrible beeping of the failsafe on the last block of C4.
“Brace for impact!” he screamed, but he didn’t have time to check if Payne understood. The oncoming lights were too close, and there was no shoulder on this side, the blacktop giving way to a deep ditch. The vehicle ahead of them was taking its lane out of the middle of the narrow roadway, so Hunter did the only thing he could. Pulling the wheel to the left, he flashed across the path of what he could now see was a semi, headed toward the gravel shoulder on the opposite side. He would have made it, too, if the driver of the semi, drunk or drowsy, hadn’t suddenly jerked his own wheel to get back into his lane.
The fender of the semi struck the limo on its back passenger side, forcing the front of the car around to where the passenger side struck the truck a glancing blow. If Hunter had been going any faster, the entire car would have flipped from the energy imparted by the impact, but Hunter practically stood on the brakes as the rear of the limo came slewing back around. The semi roared past, just as the rear of the limo on the driver’s side smacked into a tree, and the vehicle stopped in a crunch of metal and breaking glass.
Hunter was out of the limo before he even knew he was moving, running back toward the caved-in door. It was too dark to see inside, but he knew there was no use trying to get in that way, so he dashed around to the other side. There, the door was damaged from the initial impact, and it wouldn’t open, so Hunter took out his gun. “Cover your eyes!” he yelled, not knowing if Payne or Chase could hear him, before he smashed the safety glass with the butt of his gun.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, peering into the dark interior. “Payne! Answer!”
“We’re okay.” Payne’s voice was slurry, but audible.
Hunter wasn’t even aware of his own terror until Payne spoke. He let out a sound like a sob, bracing himself against the side of the limo as his knees threatened to give way. Then he told himself to get it together. They weren’t out of the woods yet.
“Chase! Are you hurt?” He was pretty sure from Payne’s voice that Payne had sustained some kind of injury, probably in protecting Chase.
“No, Hunter.” Chase sounded frightened, but then he moved close enough to the window that Hunter could see him. “Just scared.”
“Good, because I need your help. I’m going to try to open the door again from this side, and I need you to pull the handle and push the door as hard as you can from your side, okay? Can you do that?”
“Sure.” Chase nodded, and Hunter could see having something to do helped the kid to get over his fear.
“Okay, on three. One… two… three!”
Hunter pulled on the door handle as hard as he could while Chase pushed. Hunter could feel the muscles of his arms protesting, but he kept it up until with a shriek of protesting metal, the door finally gave.
“Great! You did it!” he told Chase, as he stuck his head and shoulders into the car. He reached for the overhead light, grateful when it came on, since it hadn’t turned on automatically when the door opened as it normally would have. He looked over Chase quickly, assuring himself the boy was uninjured, then turned his attention to Payne.
Reaching past Chase, Hunter rested his hand against Payne’s cheek, his heart thudding painfully. “Payne? Sir? Please open your eyes.”
Payne’s eyelids fluttered, and after what seemed to be great effort, he cracked his eyes open and peered blearily at Hunter. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Hunter said. He gently felt over Payne’s head. “Where did you hit it?”
“Right side,” Payne said, and he closed his eyes again.
Hunter cursed under his breath, touching the area Payne indicated gently, feeling a bump already beginning to rise. He didn’t see any other obvious signs of injury, which was a relief. “Concussion. Okay, Chase, I need you to pop your seatbelt and crawl into the middle set of seats. Can you do that?”
“Yes!” Chase scrambled to do what Hunter asked, and then Hunter slid into the seat next to Payne.
“Stay awake, Payne. You hear me? I’m going to call for help.”
After calling 9-1-1 — and offering up a silent thanks they weren’t out of cell phone coverage — Hunter jostled Payne again.
“You with me, Pita? Come on, you never stop talking. Why are you stopping now?”
“Is he okay? Are we going to blow up?” Chase asked. He was kneeling on the middle row of seats and facing Hunter, eyes wide.
