“Perfect. There’s a clear-cut coming up ahead. He should be able to toe it in… Shit.”
Sloane followed Tierney’s gaze, looked out the rear window as a guttural roar drowned out the growl of the Chevy’s engine, the crunch of gravel beneath the tires. The massive logging truck from the ambush loomed into view, the heavy load picking up momentum as it barreled down on them, the logs in the trailer rocking against the vertical stakes. Some asshole climbed out, positioned himself on top of the load, rifle in hand, what looked like a pole shoved in the side of the rig.
Tierney met Sloane’s gaze. “That doesn’t look promising.”
“What?” Buck’s voice sounded over the speakers, clipped, rough.
“We’ve got company. Tell Foster we won’t have time for a static pickup, not with these assholes still bearing down on us. He’ll have to do a rolling grab.”
Buck groaned. “How did I know you’d find a way to make this more difficult?”
“Pretty sure this is all on Nick.”
“Roger that. I’ve got you on GPS. That clear-cut you mentioned should be open enough to get a basket down — hopefully haul Nick and Sloane out of there before you hit the next block. I’ll come down, transfer over and hang with you, finish the trip.”
Tierney sighed. “Buck, you don’t have to ride shotgun.”
“Good, because you know I prefer to drive.” His voice softened. “And yeah, I do. We’ll see you in five. Don’t be late.”
Buck ended the call, the eerie silence filling the cab. Tierney picked up speed, skirting the edges, then taking the next corner inside and tight. Some of the shoulder crumbled off, sloughing down the embankment as they rounded the bend, entered a thick copse of trees.
The road climbed up through a series of switchbacks, the steep terrain gaining precious seconds as the eighteen-wheeler struggled to keep the weight moving forward. Tierney broke onto a straightaway a good sixty seconds ahead, the big truck’s horn echoing behind them.
Sloane glanced at the map. “How far?”
Tierney bit at her bottom lip, gaze flying to the rearview mirror. “Not far enough with how that damn truck’s gaining on us. Once it picks up speed…”
There was little that stopped it.
The grill grew closer, Tierney pushing the pickup as hard as possible as another blind corner appeared ahead. She held the line, downshifted amidst the whine of the engine, then cut in,nearly plowing into another Suburban closing in from the other direction.
Both vehicles veered to the right, the Suburban shooting over the left side and down into a ditch as their Chevy skidded onto a rough stretch of dirt and debris. The tires slipped, slewing the vehicle sideways, tipping it onto two wheels before Tierney wrestled it back, dodged a large burn pile of stumps and logs.
She fishtailed back onto the gravel road just as the logging truck moved in beside them, the massive trailer taking up most of the road. She scooted over, half the vehicle on the gravel, the other bouncing along the discarded brush and branches, bucking like a damn bronco, the suspension creaking as if it might crack at any given moment.
Tierney held firm, riding that fine line when the asshole in the back yanked on the pole, popped one of the metal stakes free before moving on to the next.
Sloane inhaled. “Tierney?”
Tierney cursed. “I see him.”
She slowed, when that other Suburban moved in behind her, blocking her from simply stopping — allowing the logging truck to shoot past.
Another stake slipped free, dangling in the air, tapping out a rhythm as it swung against the side of the semi, spinning from the rush of wind. Up ahead, the road took a sharp left, bending in toward a hill before curving back out, the clearing they were looking for on the other side.
Nick pushed onto one elbow. “Lower the damn window, Sloane, before that asshole gets another stake free.”
Sloane glared at him as she hit the button. “It won’t go down. Tierney? Is it locked up there, somehow?”
Tierney glanced in the rearview. “Give me a second…”
Shots. Punching the back of the pickup, a few cracking the rear window. A spray of safety glass exploded over them, the wind howling through the empty space.
Tierney cursed, dropped the truck into a lower gear. “I’m so over this. Hold on.”
She punched the gas as she edged closer to the semi, nothing more than an inch of space before flooring it, jumping the vehicle forward. It shook, the revs climbing into the red, the engine screaming from the stress as she moved ahead, skirting the Chevy between the truck and a massive spruce encroaching on the road. They hit the turn, the semi downshifting to stay upright, all those logs shuffling right, bending that last stake before crumpling it. They rolled, several of them tumbling over the lip, crashing onto the side of the road where their Chevy had been moments earlier. The Suburban screeched to a halt, the front grill smashing against one of the stumps, steam pouring up from beneath the hood.
Tierney kept going, ignoring the warning lights winking on the dash, catching the next curve, then punching out of the canopy and into the clear-cut.
