Part 25 (1/2)
”No deal. I want her here immediately, or you don't get that bag. That's not negotiable.”
”You aren't calling the shots, pal. We are.”
”I'll shoot you dead on the count of zero if you don't yell to or call whoever has Karen and tell them to get her up here right now,” Troy threatened, aiming his pistol at the man's chest. ”Five, four-”
”I don't think so,” Ray cut in, flicking the b.u.t.t of his still-burning cigarette out and to the right. ”I think we're in charge, and you're about to find that out.”
The moment the cigarette hit the ground, a rifle shot split the night, and the van's pa.s.senger window shattered.
Despite the gag stuffed down his tiny throat, Little Jack began screaming from inside the van.
A thrill coursed through Troy's chest. The man standing before him had been telling the truth about at least one thing. L.J. was only a few feet away.
”HERE I come!” Jack yelled as he jumped the cemetery wall and sprinted past the canvas bag.
”Bring it on, brother,” Troy called as he raced at Ray and hurled the kidnapper against the van before the man could turn and run.
Another rifle shot cracked the night and slammed into the side of the van just beside Troy and Ray as they struggled.
”Go to the other side of the van, Jack!” Troy shouted as he grabbed Ray by the s.h.i.+rt collar and pulled him roughly around the back to the driver's side. ”Go to the driver's side!”
Jack veered right, dashed past the front of the van, and met Troy on the driver's side just as Troy slammed Ray against the vehicle again. ”Who's paying you?” Troy demanded as he shoved the barrel of the pistol into the kidnapper's mouth. ”Who is it?”
”Where's Karen?” Jack shouted, hurling open the driver's door and climbing in. Little Jack lay in the middle seat, hog-tied and screaming through the gag. Jack scrambled over the console and scoured the backseat and floor of the vehicle, but didn't find Karen. ”She's not in here, Troy.” He wanted to comfort L.J., but there wasn't time. As gently as he could, he pulled L.J. to the floor, where he'd be safer from gunfire, then hustled for the front of the vehicle. There hadn't been time to untie the boy, and it was probably better not to, anyway. He might try to run from the van, and then he'd become a potential target for whoever was firing away outside. ”I'm coming back out!”
As Jack yelled, Troy withdrew the pistol from Ray's mouth, pressed it to the side of the man's head, and fired into the air as Jack jumped back out of the van.
”Cover us,” Troy ordered as Ray began screaming. The shot fired directly beside his head had him screaming for mercy. But his screams were cut short when Troy jammed the barrel of the pistol back into his mouth. ”We cut off the b.a.s.t.a.r.d's line of sight by coming to this side of the van,” Troy explained, gesturing over his right shoulder, ”but it won't buy us much time. Listen for someone running through the woods from the left. Watch for someone coming out of the woods at us and trying to get to the other side of the van. You see anything, you empty that clip at him. You kill him! If it's more than one person, shout.”
”Find out about Karen!”
”Cover us!” Troy yelled back, refocusing on Ray. ”Who had you take the boy and the woman? Who was it?”
Jack darted to the back of the driver's side, half listening to Troy interrogate behind him, half listening for footsteps in the dark woods in front of him, adrenaline pumping through his system wildly as the chaos continued. ”I hear something,” Jack called over his shoulder as someone raced across the leaves out in front of him. ”He's coming from the left.”
”Get back here, Jack,” Troy yelled, pulling Ray around to the front of the van. ”Get back here. Now!”
Jack obeyed his brother and bolted for the front of the van. Just as he turned the corner, another rifle shot blasted the night. The bullet blew past the van and caromed off the cemetery wall, pinging wickedly as it ricocheted off the stones and up into the air.
”Who was it?” Troy demanded again, this time pressing the barrel directly to Ray's forehead. ”I swear I'll kill you if you don't tell me.”
”Some Australian guy,” Ray babbled breathlessly. ”He's holed up in West Virginia, in some town called Harpers Ferry, I think. He's got a lot of bada.s.s people with him. That's what Kyle said.”
”Who's Kyle?”
”My partner.”
”What's the Australian's angle in all this?”
”I don't know, I don't know. We were just supposed to deliver the boy and the woman. I swear I don't know anymore than-”
”He's moving again!” Jack yelled. Footsteps were cras.h.i.+ng through the woods from the left. In a few seconds the person out there was going to have another shot at them.
”What's the big picture?” Troy demanded again, hauling the kidnapper to the pa.s.senger side. ”What's the Australian doing?”
”I don't know, I swear.”
Another bullet blasted past Jack just as he darted around the front right corner of the van to the pa.s.senger side. ”Ask him where Karen is. d.a.m.n it, Troy, come on!”
”What's going on in Harpers Ferry?” Troy hissed, ignoring Jack. ”Tell me!”
The next bullet from the woods shattered the driver's side window.
”Jesus Christ,” Jack muttered as he ducked instinctively. ”We're gonna get killed out here.”
Turning the tables on the shooter in the woods suddenly seemed like the best option-the only option. So he sprinted along the pa.s.senger side of the van, away from the cemetery and toward the woods.
Jack broke from behind the van, running as fast as he could, expecting at any moment to take a bullet for the second time today before he reached the tree line, which was thirty yards in front of him. If he could reach the trees, he just might have a chance to take the shooter down from close range.
He dove the last few yards into the woods, tumbled head over heels once, scrambled to his knees, crawled behind the trunk of a large elm, and gazed up the tree line toward the general area where the last bullet had exploded from. The moon had reappeared from behind the clouds, and now he had a decent view of the open ground between the van and the forest. If anyone ran for the van he'd see him.
Above the sounds of Troy yelling at the kidnapper, footsteps cras.h.i.+ng across dead leaves reached Jack's ears. They were off to the left, deeper in the woods, slowly receding.
Jack headed deeper into the forest, dodging tree trunks as they loomed in front of him. He made his way along quickly but warily, both hands clasped tightly around the Glock's handle as the gun's barrel led him through the forest. Even as he was whipped in the face by the low branches of smaller trees, he kept track of the other person's progress, intensely focused on all sights and sounds. Praying the entire time that only one other person was out here, because if there was a third enemy in this battle, he could be walking straight into an ambush.
The footsteps stopped suddenly-and an instant later, so did Jack. He stood statue-like among the trees, holding his breath as he strained to pick up any clue, visual or audible. It was so quiet out here-no sounds from the van, either. The other person could be a hundred feet away-or behind the next tree. He had no idea.
Shouts from the direction of the van broke the stillness. He recognized Troy's voice, and then a gunshot exploded from the same direction.
Jack took a quick step that way, but then footsteps began cras.h.i.+ng through the forest off to his left again. He turned and followed the footsteps, skirting trees, trying to stay with whoever was running ahead of him, making certain those footsteps ahead of him kept going, making certain he wasn't mistaking his footsteps for the ones he was chasing so he wouldn't run straight into that ambush.
Twenty yards ahead an engine roared to life, and then taillights and headlights flashed on. Jack raced for the lights and the sound of the engine, breaking through a thick line of sticker bushes with a painful shout and then out onto a dirt road. He sprinted for the lights until he was so close to the vehicle that he recognized the silhouette as an Explorer.
The back tires spun wildly in the dirt as the driver jammed the accelerator to the floor, spattering Jack with a shrapnel cloud of mud and pebbles as he closed in on the back b.u.mper. The truck dove into a huge pothole as it fishtailed forward and then hit a rock coming out of the chasm, sending the vehicle flying into the air and crazily to one side.
Someone in the back shrieked as the Explorer dropped back down and careened ahead.
It was Karen. The shriek had been faint, but Jack would have recognized her voice anywhere. It was her-no question.
”Karen, Karen, I'm coming. Hold on, sweetheart!”
He dodged several more potholes and raced up the pa.s.senger side of the truck as the engine revved loudly and the tires spun. He was almost to the back door, his fingers were only inches from the handle, when the driver veered sharply to the right, hitting him and sending him flying into the underbrush paralleling both sides of the dirt road.
By the time Jack had torn himself out of the sticker bushes and staggered back to the road, the Explorer was forty yards down the dirt lane and racing away.
SHANE MADDUX stole along the driveway and through the darkness toward the cabin he and Bill Jensen had been holed up in for the last nine months. He'd parked his jeep back up the gravel lane, about halfway to the main road, because something didn't feel right. And over the years, Maddux had learned to trust his gut unfailingly.