Grave Vengeance (11 page)

With her gun still trained on Dmitri, Wanda stepped back until she stood in front of the window. Her brow wrinkled as the truck lurched forward. “What the—”

An explosion blew out the cabin’s front window and buried Wanda under a pile of debris. Dmitri rushed across the room and was on her in a second, smacking her head against the floorboards before grabbing her gun and the purse with the relic inside.

“Are you okay?” he asked Vickers as he retrieved the artifact from Wanda’s purse.

Covered in debris dust, the old man nodded, his eyes wide and unblinking.

“Good. I’m taking this. Thanks for your help. Now go take care of your wife.” Already, Wanda was coming around, and he needed to clear out before reinforcements arrived. Before turning to go, he met Vickers’s stunned gaze and mentally compelled the old man to forget what Dmitri looked like.

Artifact in hand, he ran out the door, jumping off the porch and barreling for the truck.

“Get in!” Gwen shouted from behind the wheel.

The second he dove through the passenger side door, Gwen stomped on the gas. The engine revved, and he braced a hand against the dashboard while the truck peeled down the driveway in reverse. Back at the house, Wanda crawled out from under the debris. Her hair was caked in dirt and dust, and a gash on her forehead bled profusely. Anger puckered her face as she scrambled to her feet and raced toward the minivan parked in the front yard.

Rooting under the seat, Dmitri pulled out his Glock. From a moving vehicle, it would be a tough shot, but at the very least he could blow out the front tires and make it harder for Wanda to give chase.

“Don’t waste your bullets,” Gwen shouted over the roar of the engine. “I got this.”

Before he could ask what she meant, Gwen hit the brakes and yanked the wheel to the left. The force of momentum spun the truck around so the front end faced the main road. She snatched her phone off the seat and tapped her finger against the display.

Two seconds later, the resulting explosion shook the ground and blew apart Wanda’s minivan. And since Wanda was standing by the driver’s side door, the blast blew her apart as well.

“Have fun healing from that, bitch.” Gwen put the truck in gear and peeled out onto the main road.

“You could have just disabled the starter.”

A satisfied smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

It took every ounce of his discipline not to smile in return. “Where’d you get the explosives?”

Gwen checked the rearview mirror as she shifted into fourth. “I had some Torpex in my bag.” She said it casually, as if every woman stocked high explosives in case of emergency.

“What
don’t
you have in that bag?”

“Not much.”

“Got any more?”

“Nope, that was my last pack.”

“Too bad. Wanda called for backup before you demolished the cabin. You better step on it, because we’re about to have company.”

“They’re already here.” She gestured toward a navy sedan and a white SUV approaching from the opposite direction. The weasel in the passenger seat of the sedan was part of the duo that shot at them in Virginia. His mouth dropped open as they crossed paths. “Look familiar?”

“Shit. Think he recognized us?”

Brakes screeched as the vehicles spun around.

“I’d say that’s a safe bet.” She adjusted her grip on the wheel. “How do you want to play this? Fight or flight?”

The crackle of automatic gunfire filled the air. One round pinged off the truck’s metal frame, while another shattered the passenger side rearview mirror.

As much as he enjoyed a good fight, he knew better than to engage while they were outnumbered and outgunned. “Flight, until we find a defensible position. Then we tear the assholes apart.”

“Works for me.” Eyes narrowed, she punched the gas, and the tires squealed as the truck veered around a tight curve.

Dmitri rolled down the window, shoved his torso through the open space, and fired half the clip in his Glock. A few rounds punctured the windshield of the sedan, and the car swerved onto the soft shoulder. The SUV behind it picked up speed and charged ahead. The barrel of a gun poked out the passenger side window, and a burst of gunfire peppered the truck with bullets.

“Shit!” Dmitri darted back inside, cradling his right arm.

“Are you hit?”

“Just grazed. I’m fine.” Actually, the wound stung like a son of a bitch, but he ignored the burning sensation. The bullet had ripped through the muscle without shattering the bone, and for that he considered himself lucky. Leaning back out the window, he fired off the remaining rounds before coming back in to reload.

The sedan steered back onto the road, far behind but gaining speed.

“Can’t this thing go faster?” He ejected the magazine and slapped in a fresh one. The SUV was less than fifty yards behind and closing the distance rapidly. Another burst of gunfire erupted, and the back window by Dmitri’s head splintered.

“Not if I want to stay on the road,” she snapped.

In all fairness, she had a point. The truck wasn’t built for taking hairpin turns at a high rate of speed, leaving them at a serious disadvantage. And with dense forest flanking one side of the winding road and a five hundred-foot drop-off on the other, there wasn’t much margin for error.

The truck screeched around another curve, and it felt like the tires on the passenger side briefly lifted off the ground.

Wind whipped Dmitri’s hair as he shoved his upper body out the window again. Taking aim, he fired four rounds at the vehicle pursuing them. Two bullets pierced the front grill, and steam spewed from the punctured radiator. The SUV kept going so he took out one of the front tires, and the car slowed to a stop along the shoulder.

“One down, one to go.”

“Three to go.” Gwen pointed forward.

About a tenth of a mile down the road, an old Pontiac and a station wagon blocked their only avenue of escape. Three men and a woman stood to the side, their rifles trained in their direction.

“Fuck.” Three bullets left in the clip wouldn’t go far against a squad of four.

“Get your head down, I’m going through.” The roadblock was less than five hundred yards away. Gwen pulled a .38 revolver from the waistband of her jeans and placed it on her lap.

“No way. They’ll fill you full of lead.”

Three hundred yards.

“You got any better ideas?”

Two hundred yards.

Not really. He grabbed her gun before she had the chance to object. “In that case, I’m giving you cover.”

At twenty-five yards, he fired blindly toward the roadblock. Three of the reapers dove for cover, while the last one aimed and fired. The first round missed them but the second slug struck the windshield, punching a hole just below the rearview mirror but failing to shatter the glass.

“Hang on!”

With no time left to fasten the seat belt, Dmitri white-knuckled the grab handle on the ceiling and braced for impact.

T
he sound of metal crunching split the air as Gwen cut the wheel to the right and plowed into the rear panel of the car closest to the woods. The force of the impact spun the Pontiac around, pulverized the back end, and sent the rear bumper flying into the trees. With her foot never leaving the gas, she used five thousand pounds of truck to shove what was left of the car aside.

Free of the wreck, she picked up speed, barreling down the mountain road so fast the tires barely touched the road.

“Nice job,” Dmitri said as he looked back at the wreckage. “But we still have two on our tail.”

Gwen took her hand off the gearshift long enough to hitch her thumb toward the rear bench seat. “I got your weapons bag out of the toolbox while you were inside the cabin. It’s under the bench.”

Dmitri scowled. “You could have told me that five minutes ago.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I was busy.”

With a grunt, he twisted his body between the seats and flipped up the back bench. Sure enough, he found his black duffel tucked next to Gwen’s bag and purse. The weight of the duffel made it difficult to maneuver, but he managed to hoist it to the front of the cab and dump it on the floor by his feet.

“Much better,” he said as he slapped a fresh magazine into his Glock. He pulled a pump-action shotgun out of the bag and began loading shells into the tube. “If I’d known we’d have to deal with these assholes, I would have packed my AR-15.”

“And I would have brought more explosives.” She grinned and then flinched when a bullet tore off the driver’s-side mirror. Twisting around in her seat, she glared at the vehicles in pursuit.

The navy sedan was less than twenty feet behind the truck and gaining fast. As it neared, the car crossed the double yellow line and veered into the oncoming lane. A blast of gunfire punched a hole through the truck’s door the size of a man’s fist. Good thing the guy’s aim was a few inches off, or Gwen would be missing a chunk of leg. The shooter leaned halfway out the window of the sedan, his rifle trained on the truck’s rear tire.

Gwen cut the wheel hard to the left, barely missing the shooter as the truck slammed into the other vehicle. She pulled to the right for a second before ramming into the side of the sedan again, knocking it onto the shoulder. The car fishtailed as the driver struggled to regain control, but then Gwen smashed into it a third time, sending it sailing over the edge of the mountain and into the quarry below.

Focused on the sedan, she lost track of the remaining car. A burst of gunfire from behind blew out one of the rear tires. The truck lurched hard to the right, and Gwen fought to stay on the road. Taking aim with the shotgun, Dmitri fired two rounds, peppering the station wagon’s windshield and forcing it to pull back.

“How many are there?” she shouted over the thump-thump-thump of the blown tire.

Dmitri looked back, squinted his eyes. “Looks like four, and at least one of them has an assault rifle.”

“Shit. Any ideas?” The car surged forward and rammed their back bumper, and the truck skidded onto the shoulder for a few seconds before Gwen steered them back to the pavement.

“Take the truck off road. They’ll have a harder time following us in a station wagon.”

“Sounds great, but where?”

With the quarry on the left, there weren’t many places to go. There was a truck bail-out lane coming up on the right, but it didn’t look like it led anywhere. Dense forest dominated the remaining acreage, impenetrable to anything bigger than a motorcycle in the summer or a snowmobile in the winter.

“There,” he finally said, pointing to a narrow dirt road at the curve a few hundred yards away. “See it?”

Gwen nodded, her eyes never leaving the road.

When the road curved left, she cut the wheel to the right and the truck veered off the main drag. The rear axle slid to the left, only stopping when the driver’s side slammed into a maple. Undaunted, Gwen downshifted and punched the gas, and the truck barreled down the muddy dirt road.

“Where are they?” she asked, her eyes riveted on the road ahead of her.

“Still behind us, but we’re pulling away.”

She hit the brakes, spun the wheel, and the truck swerved around the next curve. The path narrowed even farther, the dense vegetation so close to the road it slapped against both sides of the truck. A low-hanging branch smacked the windshield, fracturing the glass along the driver’s side.

Gwen cursed, her face drawn tight with concentration.

Dmitri sat back and watched her for a moment, admiring the way she maneuvered the battered vehicle. Right hand on the gearshift, left hand on the wheel, she compensated for each twist and turn like the truck was an extension of her own body. If they weren’t in danger, and if it were anyone but her, he’d find it hotter than Hell.

Correction: It still was.

A pothole jolted the thought from his mind and almost bounced him off the seat. The farther they ventured, the worse the road got, the dips and ruts jarring the truck so hard it was a wonder the axles didn’t break. Something was rattling under the hood, and the Check Engine light flashed like a blinker.

Without warning, she slammed on the brakes and the truck skidded to a halt.

Straight ahead, the road ended abruptly at the rocky bank of a fast-moving stream. On the other side, a small pathway—it didn’t appear wide enough to count as a road—led into another swath of dense forest.

“The water doesn’t seem very deep,” she murmured, her fingers tapping against the wheel.

“Only one way to find out.”

Gwen nodded as she pushed down the clutch and slipped the truck into first. The front end dipped when it entered the water, and the sound of rock scraping against metal vibrated through the cab. Halfway across, water seeped under the door and soaked the carpet. Good thing the truck’s air intake was high enough to prevent the engine from flooding, a feature lacking in the vehicle pursuing them.

The station wagon sped into view at the same time the truck’s rear axle cleared the water. Without slowing, the car plunged into the stream and stalled out.

“Idiots,” Dmitri muttered with a shake of his head.

Gwen peered at the station wagon through the rearview mirror. “Should we give them an incentive not to follow?”

He turned his head in her direction and saw a savage glint in her eyes. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was actually enjoying this.

“Why, what do you have in mind?”

A sly smile creased her mouth. She
was
enjoying this. As much as it shamed him to admit it, he found that hot as well.

“How many rounds you got for that Mossberg?” she asked.

“Couple boxes. Maybe three.” Their gazes locked, and something passed between them that words could never describe. For a second or two, it made him light-headed. He shook his head, and the sensation disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. “Why? You want me to blast them all full of holes?”

Gwen shook her head. “I don’t think that’s necessary. But you could make sure their car won’t run if they get it out of the water.”

“As you wish.” After reloading the shotgun, he opened the door and stepped out of the truck.

The other reapers were still trapped inside the station wagon, apparently arguing over what to do next. The driver kept trying to start the car while the passenger was twisted around in his seat, his hands waving in the air and his rifle propped against the dashboard. A guy in the back seat was nodding while the woman beside him scowled. All fighting ceased the instant they noticed Dmitri, and their eyes widened with shock.

Shit. Now that he was close, he recognized the driver. It was that lunatic Edwin Pierce. For the life of him, Dmitri could not understand why Samuel kept the crazy bastard in the field. A conspiracy junkie, he was the kind of guy who hoarded canned goods and gasoline in his heavily fortified underground bunker. He was also the kind of guy who’d hunt them to the ends of the earth.

With the butt of the Mossberg tucked snug against his shoulder, Dmitri aimed and fired. Pierce ducked behind the dashboard a split second before the slug tore a hole through the windshield on the driver’s side and burrowed into the front seat. The other reapers dove for the floorboards and vanished from view. Dmitri racked another shell into the chamber, aimed, and blew the radiator apart. For the sake of being thorough, he kept pulling the trigger, hammering rounds into the station wagon until the firing pin clicked against the empty chamber.

Satisfied, he slung the shotgun over his shoulder and got back into the truck.

 

“Nice shooting, Tex,” Gwen said with a grin after he closed the door and put on his seat belt.

“Did you see who was driving?”

She shook her head. “No, I couldn’t make him out. Who is it?”

“Your boy Pierce.”

A frown replaced her grin. “Patrick knows how much I hate that guy.” Of all the reapers she’d ever encountered, Pierce was the only one she considered unworthy of the second chance he’d been given.

“Maybe that’s why Ziegler sent him.”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she put the truck in gear and ventured down the narrow path. They followed it for nearly three miles, until the trail ended at the top of a steep, rocky hill that sloped downward toward a grassy field. She put the truck into neutral, pulled the emergency brake, and twisted in her seat toward Dmitri.

“What do you think?”

“Going back isn’t an option.”

True, but going forward didn’t look like fun either. A couple hundred yards of uneven terrain sloped at a sixty-degree angle, with jagged chunks of granite scattered across the landscape. A few lonely pines dotted the hill, as if daring to defy Mother Nature. One wrong move and the truck was toast. With one foot covering the gas and the other on the clutch, she steeled her nerves, put the truck into gear, and rolled onto the hill.

Riding the brake, she steered around the first boulder and a low outcropping of rocks. Okay, that wasn’t so bad. If her luck held, she’d make it down without slamming into anything big. Then they’d only need to find their way back to the main road and civilization.

Piece of cake.

After maneuvering between two small trees, the truck began picking up speed. She pumped the brakes.

Nothing.

“You’re going too fast.”

“No shit,” she snapped as dread slithered down her spine. “The brakes just went out.” She yanked on the parking brake but released it when the truck started skidding to the side.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“Fuck.”

“My sentiments exactly. Hang on!”

In a way, it felt like a video game. Racing down the hillside, dodging boulders, trying to reach the bottom without getting pulverized. She cut the wheel to the right to avoid one cluster of rocks, only to slam into another along the rear passenger side. The truck slid, crashing into another outcropping that sent them bouncing in the opposite direction.

“Right! Right!” Dmitri yelled, his left hand braced against the dashboard.

“I see it!”

Too bad she couldn’t avoid hitting it. The front corner of the truck nailed the trunk of a pine, felling the tree and sending them sideways down the hill. There was a loud pop when the tires on the passenger side blew. Both rims dug into the rocky earth, causing the truck to flip into the air and tumble down the remainder of the hill.

By the time they reached the bottom, Gwen wasn’t sure which way was up. All that rolling had made her dizzy, and for a moment she thought she might heave. Her hands were still white-knuckled around the wheel, her heart racing faster than a thoroughbred. And while the seat belt held her firmly in place, her body leaned heavily to the right. On the bright side, at least she now knew the truck was on its side with the driver’s door facing up.

“Are you okay?” she asked Dmitri.

His expression was darker than his hair. “Fucking wonderful.” He rubbed the spot where a welt marked his forehead. “Nice driving.”

“Shut up.” Bracing her feet against the gearshift, she released the seat belt, climbed through the open window, and hopped the short distance to the ground.

Dmitri chose the more direct route and kicked out what was left of the windshield. Before exiting the truck, he tossed out his weapons bag and Gwen’s duffel.

“Could you get my purse while you’re at it?”

He gave her the stink eye, but complied with her request.

“Thanks.” Hitching her purse over her shoulder, she walked a circle around the battered vehicle. Not an inch of the truck wasn’t shattered, smashed, crushed, or otherwise destroyed. Fluids dripped from the engine compartment, staining the ground with a dark, slimy goop. “Boy, Adam’s going to be pissed when he finds out what you did to his truck.”

Dmitri glared at her. “What
I did
?”

“Well, he lent it to you.”

“But you were driving,” he snarled.

She bit the inside of her cheek to hold back the smile. She’d always believed in making the best of a bad situation, and in this case it meant getting a rise out of Dmitri. “Only because I had to save your sorry ass from Wanda.”

The vein on his forehead bulged.

“Oh, come on, I’m just turning your crank,” she said. “Lighten up. It could be a lot worse.”

“I don’t see how that’s possible.” Scowling, he clipped a nylon belt to the shotgun and slung it over his shoulder. “I’m stranded. In the middle of nowhere.
With you
.” The last part was spoken with such disdain it almost hurt her feelings.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I’m not thrilled about this either.” Although, in all honesty, she had been enjoying herself right up to the part where the truck started rolling. “At least it’s not raining.”

Not yet. Overhead, dark skies rumbled.