Gravel flies. The tree line comes into view, but a drainage ditch grabs the wheels.
It’s a hard stop. The SUV is tilted. The driver’s door pinned against the ground.
"Jade." I blindly reach for her and my hand finds her arm. "Talk to me."
"I’m here." Coughing from the airbag dust, she croaks, "I’m not hurt."
Blood runs into my eyes. The gash is on my forehead, fucking up my vision on both sides. I wipe it to find the windshield spider-webbed, but holding.
Assess. Move.
Engine’s dead. Headlights are still on, cutting sideways into the trees.
I reach for my Sig. Still on my hip.
"Can you move?"
"Yes." She’s already unbuckling.
"Stay in the truck. Do NOT get out until?—"
The next sound stops me dead. Doors closing. Voices reach us over the hiss from our engine. Two men. Maybe three.
It’s too soon for first responders. They can’t be here this fast.
These are not the voices of someone involved in anaccident. Too calm. Detached. Tactical. I know the sound well.
This was an ambush. My heart rate rockets up.
I raise the Sig toward the driver side window but the world tilts.Oh fuck.I have a concussion or vertigo.
My aim drifts left.
Steady. Fucking STEADY.
A flashlight beam sweeps through the cracked glass, biting my retinas.
"He’s armed," someone calls out.
There’s a thump, a hiss against the truck. Smoke pours in through the cracked seals around the doors.
"Don’t breathe!" I shout, but some kind of gas is already in my lungs. A chemical burn at the back of my throat.
This isn’t a smoke screen. It’s a chemical attack. Nerve gas or some other kind of tranquilizer. The effects are already starting.
I squeeze off a round through the window. Glass blows out. Someone curses.
"R-r-ryker," Jade wheezes.
I want to tell her not to talk, but I’m losing ground fast. My hand is going numb. The weapon weighs a thousand pounds. I shoot another round blindly into the smoke, a sloppy, desperate move.
Jade’s coughing gets worse behind me.
Focus.
You can do this.You can get her out.
Fuck.Fuck.I reach for my seat belt buckle, miss it. Try again. Fingers are too weak. Legs are shaking too. Jolting against the useless gas and brake pedals.
