Shadows (Black Raven Book 1) (20 page)

Think about Spring’s no’s and Candy’s barks.

She tried to focus on what she could hear, the signs of life that provided her a reason to get moving. She lifted herself onto the seat, shaking safety glass off. She glanced into the back seat, where Spring was crouched low, with Candy, on the floorboard. “We’re okay, honey. We’re going to be okay.”

She saw no blood on Spring or Candy. Just wide-eyed fear and howling and screaming, which became background noise for the drumroll of the three words that had filled her head ever since receiving her father’s text.

Cataclysm. Run. Now.

No shit.

“Spring. Please, honey. Stay down.” She had no idea whether her words registered with Spring and no time to figure it out.

Cataclysm. Run. Now.

The light was green.

Finally I have the opportunity.

The car that had been in front of them was nowhere in sight and they’d rolled into the middle of the busy intersection, so other drivers who approached the bottleneck of cars, unaware of what had just happened, honked impatiently. Whatever lull might have been caused by the explosive gunfire was ending, as cars pulled to the side, and people stepped out. No one was running to help them, though. She didn’t blame them. A shoot-out on a busy road outside of a mall wasn’t quite what one expected when finishing up shopping for the evening. Thank God anyone who was nearby was startled into momentary inaction, hesitant to run towards the epicenter of the mayhem.

The SUV on the left side of them was still there, as was the SUV on the right side. Impossible to distinguish good guys from bad from looking at them. All she knew was that they’d been aiming at each other, and both sides had met their mark, because in each car dead or dying men were slumped in their seats.

Not her problem.

“Spring, honey,” she said, “we’re fine. Just stay down. Why don’t you try to make Candy feel better?”

The gunfire had ceased, she had a car, and a clear path to the next message from her father. If she stayed there too long, more bad guys were coming and soon the police would be there. Surely someone had called the police. She had to get away from there, now.

Pete hadn’t had time to unholster the Glock that he wore on his right hip. She reached for it, unsnapped the holster, and took the weapon as she shifted to the driver’s seat. She shook off more safety glass, realized that some had fallen down her sweater, and didn’t bother with it. Jagged edges and small cuts were the least of her worries. She sat on top of Pete’s calves because she didn’t have time to move him from his face down position, jammed her foot onto the accelerator, and drove the hell away.

Two minutes of freedom were pure bliss, even with Spring freaking out, Candy howling, Pete’s blood dripping off of her face, and driving as she sat on the legs of a man who was as still as death. She sped through the busy shopping area, and breathed easier when the signal for the interstate on-ramp was one traffic light away.

Interstate 20.

Skye had no idea if it would lead to Nashville and she didn’t have time to figure that out with the Range Rover’s complex navigation system. All she knew was that she needed distance between herself and the shoot-out, and the interstate seemed like the best available option. As soon as she had distance, she’d figure out what to do about getting a car that wasn’t riddled with bullet holes and one that didn’t carry a dead body.

The traffic signal gods didn’t cooperate. Her final traffic light turned yellow and the wimp-ass driver in front of her stopped, even before the light flashed red. As she glanced over her right shoulder and weighed the possibility of an end around, Pete groaned.

Oh, dear God,
no
. Maybe she was mistaken. Impossible to tell, really, with Spring’s chant-like scream of nos and Candy’s barking filling the SUV.

“Uuuhhh.” He tried to move his right hand to touch his left shoulder.

A car horn blew, alerting her to get back in her own lane and stop at the light, which was now red.

He was alive. Not dead.
Hell.
Pete needed medical help.
Now
. It was one thing to flee with a dead man. It was another thing to run for her life and be the reason why someone who was dying actually died. She tried to ease her butt off his leg, but since he wasn’t moving, and she had to sit behind the wheel, it was an uncomfortable stalemate. She felt bad for him. Shot up, clearly in pain, and having a hundred and twenty-seven pound woman sitting on his leg as he bled to death.

Cataclysm. Run. Now.

Oh dear God. Cataclysm was bigger than one man. Any attempt to secure medical help for Pete was going to end her run for freedom and her ability to follow her father’s instructions. If the shoot-out a few minutes earlier didn’t underscore the urgency, Skye didn’t know what did. The light turned green, the car in front of her accelerated and turned towards the on ramp. She hesitated before pressing on the accelerator.

The car behind her blew the horn.

Oh, dear God. What the hell was she supposed to do?

A police car, sirens blaring, sped in front of her, and screeched to a halt. Another one did the same. Four SUV’s, black and with tinted windows, sandwiched her sides and a patrol car blocked her rear. She followed directions that were shouted at her through loudspeakers and stepped out of the car, hands in the air, as Pete’s Glock fell at her feet. Two troopers had guns trained on her.

“There’s a man injured in this car,” she said. “He needs medical help. Now.”

“Step away from the car and keep your hands high.”

She didn’t know where the voice came from. All she knew was that she needed to listen because she was in a shifting sea of confusion, and weapons were aimed at her. She stepped away from the vehicle and raised her hands, trying to figure out how to tell the officers she was innocent. Guns didn’t need to be pointed at her. She glanced into the rear window. So far, Spring was still down, but now she was quiet, which meant she was gathering her breath either for more screaming or for movement.

“I’m not the one who was shooting,” Skye yelled in an attempt to be heard, as more cars, sirens blaring, screeched to a halt. “I was trying to get away from the shooters.” Not exactly true, but how could they know otherwise? “A man is dying. You’re wasting time.”

Another SUV sped onto the scene. Brakes screeched as it halted. Sebastian jumped out of the driver’s side.
Thank God.
His eyes were on her as he approached a state trooper, who stood twenty feet away, and started talking to him.

The rear door of the SUV opened, first an inch, then another. She was more than an arm’s length away, so she couldn’t shut it. “Spring, stay in the car,” she yelled, as more officers lifted their weapons.

Oh, dear God,
no
.

Her breath caught in her throat, as the door to the SUV opened another inch. Her instinct was to throw herself against the door, so that Spring stayed in and out of aim of the weapons. When she lowered her arms just an inch, readying herself to act, someone yelled, “Don’t move.”

She froze.

Her eyes bounced from the door to Sebastian. He was still talking to the officer, seemingly calm and not worried that she had enough firepower pointed at her to incinerate her to ashes. “Do something, goddammit.”

As the officer who Sebastian was speaking to yelled to the other men, “Stand down,” Spring leapt out of the car and into her arms. Weapons were lowered, and Candy followed, jumping up and pawing at her legs.

Sebastian walked to her and said, in a voice that sounded calm, controlled, and somehow exactly like what she needed to hear, “Are either of you injured?”

She pressed her hands along Spring’s arms, legs, chest, and back, not trusting her eyes alone. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Skye,” he said, his uncharacteristically gentle tone as he said her name immediately halting her frantic examination of Spring. His eyes were serious and concerned. “There’s blood all over you. Were you shot?”

She shook her head. “It’s Pete’s blood.”

His eyes hardened. “Stay here. Don’t walk one step away.”

He walked around to the passenger side of the SUV. Through the windows of the vehicle, she watched him bend towards Pete, as three ambulances arrived on the scene and joined what had become a parking lot for state troopers, squad cars, and dark SUV’s. Sirens blared, people were talking to each other and on radios. Spring had her hands over her ears and her face buried in Skye’s chest. At least for now, Spring was quiet, though her unusual quiet bothered Skye. As paramedics surrounded Pete, Sebastian stepped back to allow the medical personnel access. Skye watched him pause, as he stared at Pete, and the medical personnel who were frantically trying to help him. His face was grim and his eyes concerned. He glanced in her direction as he waved away a paramedic and walked towards her. Two men wearing jackets with oversized logos of a profile of a bird and the words Black Raven, walked in step with him.

“Let’s go,” he said, pointing in the direction of a Range Rover that screeched to a halt on the outer perimeter of the scene.

“Where?” she said, feet firm on the ground, arms tight around Spring.

“No time for discussion.”

“I’m not going unless I know where.”

His eyes sparked with anger and frustration. For the first time since he had arrived on the scene, she noticed details. He still wore the leather jacket that he’d been in all day. There was a slash in the right sleeve, where his bicep was, but the gap in the leather wasn’t large enough for her to see underneath the slash. Fat drops of liquid were dripping from his hand. Blood. Her eyes bounced back to his face. There was a scrape on his check and a bruise on his jaw.

“Here are your choices,” he said. Voice calm, but terse, indicating he didn’t give a damn whether she liked her options. “One, I can handcuff you and throw you in the car. Two, you can fucking walk to the vehicle and get in.”

Two police officers and three agents wearing the Black Raven logo on their jackets surrounded them.

He didn’t wait for an answer. To one of his agents, he said, “Get all of their things,” He glanced angrily at her feet. “Don’t forget her boot. Put it all in the SUV.” His eyes found hers. “Walk.”

Cataclysm. Run. Now.

Oh, dear God.

It was 10:00. She wasn’t giving up, but she didn’t know how the hell she was going to make it to Firefly Island in Tennessee in just seven and a half hours if she couldn’t get away from the trap she was in. She stared into his eyes as she stood her ground. Beneath his anger and impatience, the raw depth of pain and frustration that she saw there told her that he wasn’t any happier about the current situation than she was, and it prompted her to move.

She guided Spring to the SUV. Candy followed.

The driver stepped out of the SUV and left the door open, standing erect as he nodded at Sebastian. “Sir.”

Sebastian nodded. “The SUV that I used to get here might belong to the perps,” Sebastian said. “It was in the garage, and it isn’t a Black Raven vehicle. I was going to hotwire it, but keys were in it.” Sebastian pointed towards the cluster of three police cars that had first arrived on the scene and the SUV that was behind it. “Keys are in the ignition. Start an assessment. Report in with Ragno. She’s putting together the forensics team now for the site at the marshals’ safe house and the scene on the road at the mall. We’re working with local authorities and marshals on this, so be mindful of that. Don’t trust anybody. Don’t tell the marshals a goddamn thing. Local authorities either.”

“Yes, sir.” His agent paused. “Are you planning on driving yourself to the next site?”

“Yes.”

“Pardon me, sir, but how bad is that arm?”

“Not so bad that I can’t drive. I don’t want to waste the manpower that we have here with a driver for me. State troopers are giving me an escort, until the agents who are on the road now can meet up with us.”

“Would you at least let me do a field bandage?”

Sebastian shook his head. “No time. Get the first aid kit from the back.” To Skye, he said, “Get Spring situated in the back. I need you in front.”

Skye coaxed Spring into the back seat, opened her backpack, and with shaking hands, she handed Spring her tablet and colored pencils. Spring shook her head. She tried Spring’s iPad and earphones. Spring wouldn’t put the earphones on her head, but she held onto them. Skye dug in Spring’s backpack for a rawhide for Candy and handed it to her, as the agent approached Sebastian with the first aid kit. Sebastian took it and placed it on the center console in the front seat. “Go. You have work to do.”

The agent nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He turned and left, as Spring eased her headphones on her head and buried her face in Candy’s fur. Before getting in the car, Sebastian eased the jacket off with a grimace. She gasped. His shirtsleeve was soaked with dark red blood. Most of the right arm of it had been slashed through. He unbuttoned the sleeves, unbuttoned the shirt, and shrugged his left arm out of it, gingerly slipping it off his right arm. The man was obviously in pain, clenching his jaw and grimacing as the fabric fell away, yet he kept talking to people who were mic’d to him, giving orders, discussing logistics of how they were going to get to safety, as calm as she’d ever heard him.