the shaking and weaving vehicle making her task difficult. Duck hissed in pain when she tightened the sling around his arm as the coach suddenly slowed, then banking hard right, throwing them around again and making Duck groan in pain as he fell into her.
“Coming up on the right!” Kade said as he swung the RV around the corner, hoping he was turning in the right direction.
Bickers fired three shots through the open door as the truck passed, the truck knocking down a fence as it cut off the corner. A man leaned out of the passenger side and blindly fired a burst from the automatic weapon. He couldn’t miss the coach and again the inside splintered and windows shattered.
“Anybody hit?” Kade asked as the pickup began to slow, trying to force the RV to stop.
“No,” Bickers said, still holding to the chair.
Kade crept up on the back of the truck, then floored the coach, rapidly closing the last few feet and hitting the back of the truck with a crunch. The driver of the pickup slammed on the brakes to try and stop the RV, but his truck was no match for the lumbering coach and could only manage to slow it slightly before he gave up and raced ahead.
The truck tried twice more to stop the RV, but each time Kade floored the throttle and, though the truck could drag their speed down, it couldn’t stop them. They played cat and mouse for several miles; each time the truck slowed, Kade would drive into the back of it and push it along. At least the gunmen had stopped shooting at them and Kade hoped the automatic rifle was out of ammo.
When they reached Eagle Pass Road, the pickup turned right onto the much wider dirt and gravel road, toward Eagle Pass, so Kade hauled the rig to the left and headed south toward Laredo. “Call the cops. Let’s see if we can get these assholes off us,” Kade growled as the coach picked up speed again.
“No cell signal,” Bickers said.
“Where’s the sat phone?” he asked.
“Anders had it.”
“Where’s Winter’s?”
Bickers and Winter scramble about, looking for her phone, but couldn’t find it among the debris in the coach, the wild ride having dumped the contents of all the cabinets into the floor and scattered them around.
The truck popped out of their dust plume, moving fast as it raced past them on the left. He jerked the wheel left, the coach crashing into the pickup, but the truck was moving too fast and squeezed by before he could force it into the fence. “Bickers! Get ready,” Kade said as the truck continued to race ahead. “They’re going to try something again. Winter, get low.”
A hundred yards ahead, the driver spun the truck sideways, blocking most of the road as the two men bailed out and ran to the side. Kade slammed on the brakes, the coach shuddering and shaking as it skidded to a stop.
“What now?” Bickers asked as he watched through the windshield. “Do we ram it?”
Kade sat staring. “What do you think? If we break the RV, we’re sitting ducks against the machine gun.”
“Yeah, but by the time we turn around, if we can turn around, they’ll be on us anyway. I say go for it.”
Kade licked his lips, thinking. “Big Dick, you okay back there?”
“Just do what you have to,” the big man grunted against the pain.
“Do it,” Duck added.
“Everybody stay low and hang on,” he said as started forward. There was something very wrong with the RV, the rig pulling hard to the right and he was afraid another hard impact like the first one would fatally wound the vehicle and leave them in a firefight they couldn’t win. He drove slowly until he’d closed half the distance, then floored the throttle.
The coach began to pick up speed, bearing down on the pickup like an enraged elephant as the two men began firing on the coach. Kade hunched over the wheel, trying to reduce his target as much as possible as the windshield shattered, bullets
“Coming up on the right!” Kade said as he swung the RV around the corner, hoping he was turning in the right direction.
Bickers fired three shots through the open door as the truck passed, the truck knocking down a fence as it cut off the corner. A man leaned out of the passenger side and blindly fired a burst from the automatic weapon. He couldn’t miss the coach and again the inside splintered and windows shattered.
“Anybody hit?” Kade asked as the pickup began to slow, trying to force the RV to stop.
“No,” Bickers said, still holding to the chair.
Kade crept up on the back of the truck, then floored the coach, rapidly closing the last few feet and hitting the back of the truck with a crunch. The driver of the pickup slammed on the brakes to try and stop the RV, but his truck was no match for the lumbering coach and could only manage to slow it slightly before he gave up and raced ahead.
The truck tried twice more to stop the RV, but each time Kade floored the throttle and, though the truck could drag their speed down, it couldn’t stop them. They played cat and mouse for several miles; each time the truck slowed, Kade would drive into the back of it and push it along. At least the gunmen had stopped shooting at them and Kade hoped the automatic rifle was out of ammo.
When they reached Eagle Pass Road, the pickup turned right onto the much wider dirt and gravel road, toward Eagle Pass, so Kade hauled the rig to the left and headed south toward Laredo. “Call the cops. Let’s see if we can get these assholes off us,” Kade growled as the coach picked up speed again.
“No cell signal,” Bickers said.
“Where’s the sat phone?” he asked.
“Anders had it.”
“Where’s Winter’s?”
Bickers and Winter scramble about, looking for her phone, but couldn’t find it among the debris in the coach, the wild ride having dumped the contents of all the cabinets into the floor and scattered them around.
The truck popped out of their dust plume, moving fast as it raced past them on the left. He jerked the wheel left, the coach crashing into the pickup, but the truck was moving too fast and squeezed by before he could force it into the fence. “Bickers! Get ready,” Kade said as the truck continued to race ahead. “They’re going to try something again. Winter, get low.”
A hundred yards ahead, the driver spun the truck sideways, blocking most of the road as the two men bailed out and ran to the side. Kade slammed on the brakes, the coach shuddering and shaking as it skidded to a stop.
“What now?” Bickers asked as he watched through the windshield. “Do we ram it?”
Kade sat staring. “What do you think? If we break the RV, we’re sitting ducks against the machine gun.”
“Yeah, but by the time we turn around, if we can turn around, they’ll be on us anyway. I say go for it.”
Kade licked his lips, thinking. “Big Dick, you okay back there?”
“Just do what you have to,” the big man grunted against the pain.
“Do it,” Duck added.
“Everybody stay low and hang on,” he said as started forward. There was something very wrong with the RV, the rig pulling hard to the right and he was afraid another hard impact like the first one would fatally wound the vehicle and leave them in a firefight they couldn’t win. He drove slowly until he’d closed half the distance, then floored the throttle.
The coach began to pick up speed, bearing down on the pickup like an enraged elephant as the two men began firing on the coach. Kade hunched over the wheel, trying to reduce his target as much as possible as the windshield shattered, bullets
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