style="font-size:15px;"> With one swift move, Norwood pulled her away from the door and around the corner of the shed. Drina barely had time to see Carter’s head popping up on the other side of the vehicle. Right in front of the shooter, on the SUV’s hood, was her computer. Norwood pushed her down and she sprawled to the ground while he knelt and fired back.
More bullets pierced the metal shed, going straight through to where they crouched. Norwood ducked lower.
“We can’t stay here. Can you run yet?”
She nodded, hoping she could. Crawling to the back of the shed, Drina cringed as jagged rocks pierced her palms. Her rescuer pointed to an outcropping of rocks about thirty feet away.
“When I say go, run for those rocks. Don’t stop and don’t look back. Got it?”
She nodded.
“Go!”
Drina leaped to her feet and almost fell. Norwood grasped her arm and steadied her as they half ran, half stumbled across the open space. She expected to feel a bullet pierce her back any minute.
They spilled over the rocks. Norwood rolled. Drina fell flat, gasping, her lungs burning almost as much as her hands and feet. She lay face up, her eyes closed.
“I don’t believe this. It can’t be happening.”
Norwood crawled back to the rock wall and peeked over. “Believe it. My worst nightmare and what you thought would never happen just happened.” He took aim and fired back at the shack. “We can’t stay here. Carter can keep us pinned down indefinitely...at least long enough for the helicopter to show up. Then we’ll be outnumbered.” His gaze shot to the culvert below. “Look down there.”
Drina rose to her elbows and peered down at a small metal shed—right next to an all-terrain vehicle.
“If I can get down there, I think I can get that quad started.” Norwood cast a worried glance her way. “You’ll never make it down this hill, but I can come back for you.”
Drina stared at him, eyes wide, nodding, punctuating each of his words with a dip of her head.
“You...will...come back for me, won’t you?”
He paused, grasped her arm and squeezed. That little touch was the most reassuring thing she’d felt in twenty-four hours.
He pulled Whitson’s gun out of his waistband. “Take this.”
She stared at the black weapon and shook her head. “I...I can’t kill anyone.”
“You wouldn’t hit him even if you tried. Every time you see Carter pop his head out, point and fire. He’ll think it’s me. That will give me time to get down there without him shooting me.”
He flipped the lock and handed it to her. She grasped it with numb, tingling fingers.
“Remember, just point and click.”
She nodded again, then rose enough to peek over the rock, just in time to see Carter at the corner of the shed. Norwood took the gun out of her hand, aimed and fired. Carter lunged back out of sight. Cal gripped her hand and placed the weapon back in her palm.
“Fire again every minute or so. That’ll make him keep his head down. Watch the other side of the shed. He’ll try to come at you from there next.”
With that, he crawled to the edge of the rocks and slid down. She watched him kick dirt high in the air as he loped down the hillside three...four steps at a time, dodging around two fallen Joshua trees, straggly coated arms still reaching to the sky. Carter fired another shot, which startled Drina. Turning, she fired the gun...just to make noise. She had no idea where the bullet went, but she had to protect Cal. Maybe he was the leak, a traitor to their country. But he’d just saved her life and was helping her to escape. He deserved her help in return.
She fired again then turned back to watch Cal sprint across the clearing to the shed below. Grasping the ATV, he shook it, probably rattling the gas tank. Then he used the handle of his gun to break the lock on the plastic compartment and lifted the lid.
Carter fired another shot. It pinged off a nearby rock and forced Drina to turn around. Closing her eyes, she counted.
Numbers, she could do. Numbers were normal. They gave her courage. At sixty, she popped her head up, closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.
Dirt splayed up in the air ten feet in front of the shed.
If she kept aiming like that, Carter would know it wasn’t Norwood firing. She counted again, closed one eye and tried to aim for the shed.
Carter popped his head out. She fired but lost the bullet again. No telltale spray of dirt or ping of metal indicated that she’d even come close. She absolutely had to do better or Carter would know it was her shooting. Then he’d do something crazy like charge the rocks.
She fired again and again. Carter popped his head out here and there, like he was playing cat and mouse with her, growing braver each time.
He must have realized Norwood was gone.
Somewhere in the culvert below she heard the ATV engine start up. Carter heard it, too. He stuck his head out farther than usual.
Drina took aim and actually hit the shed. Carter ducked back, but slowly...as if he knew he wasn’t in any real danger of being hit.
A long time passed. Had the man moved to the other side of the shed, as Norwood had suggested?
Sure enough, Carter peeked out from the opposite side. He looked to the left, about ten feet away at a stacked-high pile of sheet metal and damaged windmill blades. The equipment was only a few feet from the side of the hill. If he reached the shelter of that pile, it was a short distance to the edge of the cliff and a clear shot at Norwood.
Suppressing a whimper, Drina took aim and fired. All she heard was an empty click. She was out of bullets.
Carter took that moment to dash across the space to the safety of the discarded equipment.
Drina dropped the gun. Now what? How could she stop him? She heard the revving of the ATV engine again. In minutes, Norwood would be climbing up the hill...straight into Carter’s line of fire.
Frantically, her gaze searched the surrounding area...and saw nothing. No weapon. No help. Nothing.
But she heard another engine.
Norwood’s car was still running. Could she reach it? Carter wasn’t looking her way. His attention was focused on the culvert.
Not giving herself time to think, she dashed across the open space back to the shed. Carter never even turned his head. He knew the real threat was down below with Norwood.
Gasping, her whole body tingling with adrenaline, she rounded the corner of the shed. Her gaze landed on her computer, still resting on the short hood of the SUV.
No way was she leaving that behind. She grabbed the laptop, tucked it under her arm. Halfway to the car she remembered the money. Money funded these men and their violent acts. She wouldn’t leave that behind, either.
Spinning,
