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Two shots.
Clean.
Efficient.
Silence falls.
Heavy.
Broken only by the ticking of overheated engines.
I scan the area.
Slow.
Careful.
Too easy.
My grip tightens.
“Something’s wrong…”
And then—
Headlights flare behind me.
My body reacts before my mind does.
I turn—
Too late.
A third vehicle.
Hidden.
Waiting.
“Yeah,” a voice calls out from the darkness.
Cold.
Familiar.
Ford.
“I was hoping you’d do exactly that.”
My jaw tightens.
Gun lifting.
Already calculating.
Distance.
Angles.
