Part 45 (1/2)

She'll have to go all the way down and then cross over to the road. There's another dirt road that runs straight down. I can cut her off and get in front of her.

Jack's feet fumbled with the brake pedal as he furiously raced down the curving roads. He scanned ahead for the turn and gritted his teeth when he saw it. Both feet jammed down on the brake, slowing him down enough to take the hard right.

No one would call it a road-it was a logging path that ran straight down-but it was his only chance of getting to Marisa in time. Rocks pinged off the undercarriage of the Impala, and branches raked the car. One deep pothole tossed him sideways, and his head slammed into the window. His vision blurred, and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. His eyes burned, and he blinked rapidly. He glanced at his hands and saw they were covered in blood.

After he swerved right around another pothole, the whole car lurched left as he clipped a tree. The sound of crus.h.i.+ng metal filled his ears as the car sc.r.a.ped along the pine trunk. In the rearview mirror, he saw his quarter panel spin off into the woods.

The road curved slightly left, and he fought the wheel as the front end kicked in the air off a rock. As the Impala shot forward, he was pushed into the seat belt, and pain exploded from his side.

The s.h.i.+rt came out. d.a.m.n.

His left hand shook as he reached again for his wound. Gulping for air that would only come in the smallest amounts, he struggled to see as branches raked the winds.h.i.+eld. He grasped the fabric and swore as he crammed it into the hole in his side.

A huge branch ripped off the driver's side mirror, and the winds.h.i.+eld spider-webbed with a loud crack. The wheel pulled left, which brought him swinging dangerously toward a tree, and he yanked right hard with both hands. The Impala straightened out, and so did the road. Jack tried to press himself back into the seat as his left hand started to shake.

Through the woods he saw the sedan. He was ahead of it now. If he went a little farther, he could double back. He floored it, and the shocks groaned in protest. The main road approached, and he locked up the brakes and cut the wheel.

His vision blurred, and his right hand trembled as he reached over and picked up the heavy Magnum.

He jammed the gas pedal down and the Impala surged forward. Jennifer's car came around the corner up ahead.

The sedan has an air bag. I have to hit her hard enough that Jennifer's not getting out. No way I live.

Jack rubbed the dashboard.

Sorry, baby. I don't think either of us makes it out today.

Jack steadied Paolo's gun on the dashboard as the speedometer's pointer raced up.

I'll never be able to hold the kick. I'll only get one shot.

The shot blew out the winds.h.i.+eld, and Jack winced as the huge gun jerked back. The Magnum spewed smoke and fire. Jack let it fall to the floor and put both hands on the wheel.

Steady.

Prescott's car kept coming straight at him.

She'll try to cut right.

He could see Jennifer now, and she looked scared.

Marisa's in the back with a seat belt. She should be safe.

Jennifer was shooting now, and bullets pinged off the Impala.

Jack made sure he flashed her a b.l.o.o.d.y grin.

For one split second, everything froze. He saw Marisa. Her head rose. She was in the backseat, and she looked directly at him.

Love. Guilt. Anguish. Anger.

Jack didn't know whether he could actually see all of those emotions on her face, or whether he just knew her so intimately he could tell her thoughts.

Please let her live.

Jennifer hit the brakes.

Jack hit the gas.

Tires screeched. Gla.s.s shattered. Metal exploded.

Everything went black.

Fool's Bargain Jack coughed and blood flew all over the dashboard. His head rested against cold gla.s.s. Puzzled, he opened his eyes. His vision was blurry but he could see the driver side window of the Impala somehow hadn't broken. As he looked around, he saw everything else had.

The whole front seat was at a strange angle; twisted metal rods poked through the firewall into the leg section of the pa.s.senger seat. Gla.s.s was everywhere, and the pa.s.senger door was gone.

Jack let his head roll to the left. Prescott's car was fused together with the Impala. His eyes searched for Marisa, but he could only see a small empty portion of the sedan's backseat. His breath was ragged and, as he exhaled, he could hear bubbling in his chest. He let his head fall back against the window. Smoke rose from the engines of the cars, but Jack could no longer move. His right hand twitched uncontrollably, and his legs were numb. He closed his eyes and listened to the hissing from somewhere in the wreckage.

The metal clinking on the road caused him to open his eyes. Someone stood where the pa.s.senger side door had been. Jack groaned as he tilted his head. Marisa stood there with tears running down her face. She shook her head. She knelt on the front seat where broken gla.s.s crunched beneath her.

”It's okay, Angel.” Jack wheezed.

”No, not you, baby. Not you...” She touched his hand, but he couldn't feel it.

”Listen.” Jack wheezed.

Crying, she pulled herself closer. She winced and gritted her teeth.

”No regrets.” Jack coughed.

Marisa's hand reached out and softly caressed his face.

”No. Please, Jack. I can't lose you, too. Not because of me.”

Jack tried to shake his head, but the pain cut off what little air he was getting.

”Favor?” His throat tightened.

Marisa nodded and tears fell on his shoulder.

”Live.”

She sobbed and sat back on her haunches; she held up a hand while the other went to her mouth. Weeping, she nodded and moved out of the car.

”Hang on. I'll get help. I'll get help,” she repeated as she stumbled backward.

She has no shoes.