aim, hitting the front tire closest to him and then rolling free of the trajectory of the truck.
The truck stuttered but continued to roll forward. The driver turned his wheel and aimed right for him. Joseph stood and took a second shot at the other front tire. The bullet zinged off metal. He’d missed. Then he aimed a third shot through the windshield, not to kill but to disorient.
The truck came to a stop as the driver picked up his rifle and pointed through the shattered windshield.
Joseph dropped to the ground and rolled toward a rusty metal trough. Once he had some cover, he lifted his head and lined up a shot to go through the other front tire. He pulled the trigger, then burst to his feet, not taking time to see if he’d hit his target.
His legs pumped as the fear of death energized him. He sprinted toward the next hay bale. A rifle shot zinged through the air, but it was aimed toward Sierra, who was running for the cover of a cluster of trees. He breathed in a quick wordless prayer for her safety.
Joseph dove behind a hay bale and pressed his back against it. He peered around to see the shooter stalking toward him. The man wore a different colored baseball hat pulled low over his face, but he had the same build as the man who had come after them down by the lake.
Joseph glanced in the direction Sierra had run, making his way toward the trees. He entered the trees and came out on the other side. The hay field ended and the land sloped upward.
He spotted Sierra ahead, running toward the road. She slowed when she looked back and saw him. He put his gun back into the shoulder holster and headed toward her.
The land reconnected with the road. Sierra waited for him, resting her hands on her knees to catch her breath. He met up with her, glancing down to where he had just been. The shooter emerged from the cluster of trees.
Sierra’s eyes grew wide when she followed the line of his gaze.
Both of them crouched and headed toward the far side of the road, where there was a ditch. A rifle shot stirred up dirt on the road and pummeled his eardrum.
Staying low, they crawled along in the ditch.
In the morning light, he could see the outskirts of Scenic View and the lake shimmering in the distance. Though cutting across the field had brought them closer to town, it had to be a long jog to get to the edge of town, longer if they had to dodge bullets and stay off the road. He doubted the shooter wanted witnesses, so once they were around people or on a part of the road where there was traffic, they’d be safe. Or maybe they could flag down the tow truck when it came.
Sierra was still breathless from running. “We can cut across country. Head through that field there.” She pointed toward a barbed wire fence where cows grazed and plodded around.
She knew the countryside better than he did. He followed her lead, slipping through the barbed wire and climbing over. When he looked back, he didn’t see the shooter.
“Pick a cow,” he said.
He rushed over to a black heifer who chewed away at a tuft of grass. He lined his feet up with the cow’s back feet so they wouldn’t be spotted. He’d been a DEA agent for nearly ten years. In all that time, there had never been a training exercise in which they had to use livestock for cover. Despite the danger they still faced, something about that struck him as funny. He smiled and shook his head as he ran to hide behind another slow-moving cow.
Sierra darted behind a cow shelter, a three-sided wood structure. Joseph lifted his head just above the cow’s back, stepping sideways as the cow ambled toward some grass. The shooter paced up and down along the road, looking out across the field and then up the road, clearly confused as to which way he and Sierra had gone.
Joseph heard the rumble of a truck engine in the distance. The tow truck he’d called came into view around a curve. The shooter darted off the road and headed toward the cluster of trees, probably not wanting to be spotted.
The driver was going too fast to give Joseph time to get up to the road and flag it down. He watched the tow truck disappear around another curve. They couldn’t get back to their wrecked car without being shot at. The shooter blocked that path to safety. He was in the cluster of trees between the road where the tow truck had gone and where they were. The tow truck’s appearance bought him and Sierra valuable seconds when they would not be shot at. He ran toward the cow shelter where Sierra waited. If they crouched and ran in a straight line, the shelter would keep them from being spotted.
He held his hand out to Sierra. Her fingers gripped his as she pulled herself to her feet. He locked her in his gaze as her touch sent an electric charge through him.
“Stay low. I think we can make it back into town,” he said.
Fatigue settled into his muscles as he made his way to the edge of the field and climbed through the barbed wire fence. Sierra seemed to be tiring, too. They cut across country through an aspen grove.
He stopped, leaning against a tree and looking over his shoulder. No sign of the shooter. Sierra pressed her back against a tree and slid to the ground. Even though weariness was evident in her features and she was muddy from their run through the field, he was drawn to the light he saw in her eyes and the way her mouth turned up in a faint smile.
She rested her head against the tree trunk and let out a heavy breath. “That was something.” Her expression grew serious. “I suppose we shouldn’t stay here for long.”
“I don’t see him, but yes, we can’t take any chances.”
She pushed herself to her feet. Her blue eyes studied. “Let’s get moving, then.”
The green aspen’s leaves shimmered like coins in the morning light, making a melodic rustling sound in the breeze. His heart beat a little faster when she looked at him. Sierra had shown herself to be a brave, quick-thinking woman. “You do okay for a bookkeeper.” He reached over and pulled a piece of straw out of her silky dark hair.
The gesture seemed to make her aware of her appearance as she brushed her dark hair off her face and then looked away. “Thanks.” Color rose up in her cheeks.
He pulled himself free from the moment of attraction and angled his body around the trees. The shooter was making his way across the field, slowed by having to carry the rifle but tenacious in pursuit of his prey.
Joseph’s heart revved up a notch. His muscles tensed, ready for fight or flight. “Let’s get going. I’m calling the tow truck driver to see if he can pick us up on his way back into town. The shooter has made it clear he doesn’t want to be spotted.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “In the meantime, let’s keep moving.”
The trees provided them with a degree of cover as they rushed toward town and safety. Maybe they would get away this time, but he knew it would just be a matter of hours before the assassin came after Sierra again.
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