Gage slammed the brakes and veered off the main road, the tires skidding in the mud. The truck fishtailed before catching traction.
“Destination one hundred yards ahead,” the robotic GPS chirped.
The wind howled around us like a siren. Leaves and twigs pelted the truck, swirling in a chaotic cyclone. The barometric pressure dropped so sharply my ears popped.
“The wind’s picking up. I can feel it moving the truck,” Gage said, his voice low. Nervous.
But we didn’t stop. We couldn’t.
“Faster, Gage,” I snapped, not out of anger—but because I couldn’t breathe until I had eyes on Rose.
She needed me.
We crested a small rise when a deafening crack split the sky above.
“Gage!”
A massive oak tree fractured in half right in front of us,collapsing over the dirt road seconds before we barreled into it. Two seconds earlier and we would have been dead. Leaves rained down around us, the branches entangling around the crumpled hood of Gage’s truck.
“Dammit. Door’s wedged shut!” Gage shouted over the howling wind.
I looked at my brother and the branch that had pinned his door less than a foot from his head. Mine was pinned, too. We wereinsidethe tree. I looked back at the trailer, still upright, then at Spirit bucking, just past the trailer door that had busted open.
“I’ve got to get out of here, Gage.”
He pulled a hammer from his tool bag in the back and handed it to me. “Bottom’s up, bro.”
I grabbed a jacket that had slid to the floorboard and tossed it to him. “Cover your face.”
I waited until he turned away, then took the hammer to the passenger window. Glass shattered around the cab.
“I’m right behind you…” Gage’s voice faded as I climbed out of the broken window and maneuvered my way through the tree like a spider monkey.
“Spirit!”I whistled.
A flash of white over the tree. I gripped the saddle and vaulted onto her back. We took off through the woods. Hail battered my face, my arms, one popping open the skin below my eye. I wiped the blood and hunkered down against the rain, flapping Spirit’s reins.
“Go, go girl,go!”
Rain swirled around us, winds beating into my side threatening to throw me off the horse. For all I knew, at that moment, I was in the middle of a tornado. The woods were as black as midnight.
We soared over a fence and took off across a field—sitting ducks for the lightning.
We didn’t care.
My breath came out in short puffs against the sudden drop in temperature, my heart a cool pounding reminding me of the moments before executing a raid. Except with this one, I didn’t have intel, I didn’t have my team at my back, only my sixth sense, SIG, and the sheer resolve to save my Rose Flower’s life.
The outline of a large structure came into view. I pulled the reins and we skirted to the right, parallel with the side of the large house. My eyes darted from point to point, my brain putting together an internal layout based on the outside.
It was an old, decrepit colonial style mansion with four white columns running in front of a porch that led up to double doors. Several shades of stain colored the white paint peeling on the sides. Cracked shingles speckled a waved roof that led to a crooked chimney. Tangled, dead bushes encircled the structure. It looked like something from The Shining. Fitting too, for this mad doctor.
The windows were dark, with only a dim orange glow coming from somewhere deep inside the first floor.
I pulled Spirit to a stop and slid off.
“Stay here.”
Double-gripping my gun, I ducked my head into the wind and sprinted across the yard, rain lashing my face like shrapnel. I slammed my back against the side of the house, breath sharp in my throat.
