“Where’s Chad?”
“Dead.”
Max felt like he’d received a blow in the stomach. But he said nothing.
“Get my mom!” sobbed Sadie, completely uncontrolled wailing issuing forth from her shaking body.
Georgia was close. Not close enough, though.
Max needed a plan. But he didn’t have time to come up with one.
Max threw himself into the Bronco’s driver seat.
Max gunned the engine, threw it into first, foot depressing the gas pedal, releasing the clutch with a jerk, and the Bronco rocketed forward towards Georgia.
Georgia was in the shadows. She’d gotten behind a piece of the concrete structure that jutted out, shielding her momentarily from the gunshots of the people behind her in the corridor. She was returning fire, keeping them at bay.
Max drove the Bronco fast towards the entrance to the corridor. Georgia was maybe ten feet down inside it.
Georgia couldn’t make the rest of the way herself. Not without some cover fire. If she stopped returning fire herself, they’d have a clear shot at her as she ran the rest of the way.
Max slammed on the brakes, the Bronco skidding to a stop, kicking up the dry dirt from the compound ground.
Max had his Glock out the window, returning fire. His finger felt good on the trigger, squeezing. He felt a thrill rush through him. He felt alive, energized. All his pain lay in the background, dormant, forgotten. Adrenaline was his king, his motivator.
“If we return fire, she’ll be able to make it.”
Mandy took the cue. She used their one other gun to fire out the window, towards the men at the other end of the corridor. So did James.
Georgia turned briefly in the darkness.
“She sees us. She’ll make a run for it.”
“Come on, Mom,” muttered James, from the back.
Max saw some movement off to his side. Almost too late. But not quite.
It was a guy aiming a rifle at them. He’d snuck up from somewhere.
Max’s arm moved fast. He released a string of bullets. One of them hit the guy. He went down.
More would come. They were all over the place. Not just down the corridor. They didn’t have much time. They needed to get out of there.
Max turned back to Georgia.
Her face was in the darkness. He couldn’t see her expression.
But he saw her keel over, falling hard to the ground. The gun dropped from her hand.
Sadie screamed.
James made a noise of pain.
Max didn’t think about it. He just acted.
Georgia wasn’t getting out of there herself.
“I’m going in. Cover me, or we’ll never get out of there.”
“Max! You can’t go.” Frantic worry dripped over Mandy’s words.
“There’s no time.”
Max opened his door.
“I’ll go down the left side. Shoot to the right.”
Max would have to rely on the accuracy of Mandy and James. A single stray bullet and he’d take one in the back.
Max sprinted towards Georgia. He ran in a lopsided way. His leg had never properly healed. Pain, and more pain. The adrenaline couldn’t keep it off. But he ran. He held the Glock in front of him, squeezing the trigger indiscriminately until he was out of ammo.
He didn’t pay attention to the gunfire around him. Mandy and James would do everything they could. No point in worrying about it. He’d either get shot or he wouldn’t.
He was ready for anything.
“Georgia!”
She was out, her limbs akimbo on the ground.
Max shook her, trying to keep against the wall as best he could, a slim profile for the shooters.
Georgia didn’t respond. Max felt for a pulse. It was there. Weak, but it was still there. She was still alive. But she wasn’t getting out of there on her own legs.
Max grabbed her and strained as he picked her up. His leg was on fire.
He turned and started back to the Bronco.
He kept to the side as best he could. Bullets whizzed by him. Muzzle flashes up ahead. Mandy and James were doing a hell of a job keeping up the gunfire. So long as one of their bullets didn’t go astray…
Max didn’t think about any of that. He didn’t think about his leg. Or how close to death he was. He thought about the Bronco, getting there. That was it.
Somehow, he made it. Just when he thought he couldn’t take another step with Georgia’s weight applying so much force to his leg.
James had the back door open already and Max set Georgia’s body down roughly on the backseat.
A bullet hit the open door. Better to go in through the back than risk getting into the driver’s seat from the outside.
Max threw himself over Georgia’s body, jamming himself between James, Sadie, and Georgia.
“Get us out of here,” barked Max.
Mandy was already sliding over to the driver’s seat. She had the Bronco in reverse, and sent them speeding backwards with a jolt that threw Max into the seat.
Mandy spun the wheel and threw the Bronco into a sharp turn. Dirt was up around them, dust. Good, it would help obscure them. Better cover.
In a flash, Mandy had it in first. They were hurtling forward, right toward the door Max had flattened on his way in.
“There’s someone in the way!” shouted Mandy.
A man with a gun stood in their path. A shotgun in his hands. Ready to unload.
The Bronco sped towards him.
The man lowered the shotgun.
“Go!” shouted Max. “Go!”
Sadie screamed as Mandy kept her foot on the pedal and flattened the guy. The Bronco bumped over his body, one side of the vehicle going up and down again. A sickening thud underneath the chassis.
But they were out. They were safe, for the moment.
But there was no time to celebrate their victory. Georgia was unconscious, her breathing shallow.
And they were out, speeding away from the compound.
Max had Georgia in his arms, his fingers pressed to her neck.
“She’s still with us. But she’s badly hurt. Get her shirt off. We need to find the wound.”
James had a pocket knife out and started cutting away Georgia’s shirt. A grim look had overtaken his face.
The shirt was colored a deep red with blood. James’s hands, when he took them away, were soaked in blood.
“I don’t see it.”
“Help me get her on her stomach. Sadie, get into the front with Mandy. We need space.”
“Come on, Sadie,” said James, tugging on his sobbing sister, basically pulling and pushing her until she was in the front seat, from which she peered back with anxious terror.
Max and James got Georgia onto her stomach.
“She’s been shot. It missed her spine. Let’s hope it didn’t puncture her lungs.”
Max knew that if Georgia’s lungs had taken the bullet, there’d be no way to save her.
Even if she’d gotten lucky, she’d be lucky to live. The bullet hadn’t exited. It was still lodged inside her.
29
“That walk really took it out of you, didn’t it?” said Dale boisterously. He seemed to have gotten even more energized the closer he’d gotten to his little cabin.
“I’m… OK…” John managed to say. He threw himself to the ground and tried to catch his breath. But he was still weak, and his breaths were shallow, as if his lungs weren’t getting the air they needed.
“You did good,” said Cynthia, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Can you make it inside?”
John nodded, and held up a finger, indicating he needed some more time to rest.
In front of John sat Dale’s little wooden cabin. It was picturesque, surrounded by tall evergreen trees, nestled perfectly in the woods. A chimney was perched on the roof. Wisps of smoke escaped it.