Название | Boneyard Ridge |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Пола Грейвс |
Жанр | Ужасы и Мистика |
Серия | The Gates |
Издательство | Ужасы и Мистика |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472050564 |
When the voice on the other end answered, he said, “They’re moving up the hit.”
“To when?”
“Tonight, as soon as she leaves the office.” Muscles in Hunter’s gut quivered as he tried not to panic. “It’s too soon.”
There was a brief moment of thick silence before the other man asked, “Any idea when she’ll leave the office?”
“Going by her usual schedule, no earlier than six. Probably closer to seven.”
“Any idea what they’re planning to do?”
“No. I didn’t quite make it into the inner circle before this all went down. I’ve been trying to piece things together, but—” He bit back a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know what they’re planning. Or where.”
“I can try to get some backup into place for you by tonight, but I’m not sure I can swing it before then. I’ll see how many people I can move into place by tonight, but you know we’re stretched pretty thin at the moment, until I can bring in more new hires.”
“I know,” Hunter answered tersely. He knew exactly how understaffed The Gates was, if Quinn had resorted to hiring an ex-soldier with a bum leg and anger-management issues.
“You may have to handle this alone for a little while.” Another brief pause, then, “Can you?”
“I guess I’ll have to, won’t I?” Hunter answered, unable to conceal a touch of bitterness in his voice.
* * *
SHE NEEDED A PET, Susannah decided as she crossed the darkened employee parking lot. A pet would give her an excuse to leave the office at a reasonable hour instead of finding just one more thing to take care of before she locked the door for the day.
Not a dog. Dogs needed room to run and someone home to let them out for potty breaks. A cat, maybe. Cats were independent. She’d always liked cats. She’d cried for weeks when she’d had to leave her marmalade tabby Poco behind when she left Boneyard Ridge.
She’d left a lot of things behind in Boneyard Ridge. Things she’d never get back again.
She’d parked at the far end of the parking lot when she’d arrived at work that morning, on the premise that the long walk across the blacktop to her office would be almost as good as working out.
Almost. Pulling out her phone, she hit the record button. “Look into joining a gym.”
“You don’t look like you need one.”
The masculine drawl came out of the darkness, sending her bones rattling with surprise. The lamp at this end of the parking lot was out, she realized as she turned in a circle, trying to spot the speaker.
A darker shadow loomed out of the gloom surrounding her car. She instantly regretted not shelling out a few more bucks to get an alarm system with a remote. She peered toward the approaching figure, taking a couple of defensive steps backward.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” the man’s voice assured her.
She didn’t believe him.
Sliding her hand into the pocket of her purse, she closed her fingers around the small canister of pepper spray she made a point of carrying.
“Don’t do that,” the man warned, a hint of steel in his deep voice. “We don’t have time.”
Even as the words rumbled from the gathering gloom, Susannah heard the growl of a car engine starting nearby. She saw the shadowy figure shift attention toward the sound, and she took the opening, kicking off her high heels and running toward the lights of the hotel behind her.
She didn’t get three steps before he grabbed her from behind, wrapping her upper body in a firm grip and lifting her off her feet so quickly she didn’t even have time to scream before his hand clapped over her mouth.
She tried to pull the pepper spray from her purse, but his hold on her was unshakable. She could barely flex her fingers.
The roar of the engine grew closer, and she started kicking backward against her captor’s legs. Her only reward was pain in her own heels as they slammed against what felt like solid rock.
“For God’s sake, stop fighting me!” He was running with her, ignoring her attempts to get away as he loped across the parking lot toward the woods beyond. “I’m on your side.”
The sheer audacity of his growling assurance spurred her fury, and she clamped down on his hand with her teeth.
A stream of curses rewarded her effort, but the man didn’t let her go. He just kept running, an oddly hitching stride that tugged at her memory until she realized where she’d heard that low, cavernous voice before.
The sad-sack maintenance man.
It’s always the quiet ones....
Suddenly, a loud stuttering sound seemed to fill the air around them, and her captor shoved her to the ground and threw himself over her body, pinning her in place. Her purse went flying, pepper spray and all.
The least of her worries, she realized as her rattled mind finally identified the sound. Gunfire. Her pulse started whooshing like thunder in her ears as she held her breath for the sound of more shots.
The engine noise she’d heard before faded, followed by the unmistakable squeal of tire on pavement. They were turning around and coming back for another go, she realized, her breath freezing in her lungs.
The man on top of her pushed himself off her, giving her a brief chance to flee his grasp. But she was too paralyzed with shock to make a move, and then the moment had passed. He grabbed her arm, dragging her to her feet, and started running.
As she stumbled behind him, she realized she had only two stark options—run with him or put up a fight that would give whoever had just tried to gun her down another chance to finish the job.
Her heart hammering wildly in her chest, she ran.
Night had leached all the warmth from the hills, leaving behind a bitter, damp cold that bit all the way to the marrow. The collection of bone fragments, steel plates and screws holding his left leg together joined forces in a cacophony of pain, but Hunter ignored the aches and kept moving.
He wasn’t sure what the men with the guns would do once they realized he’d spirited their target away, but he knew whatever punishment they chose would be brutal and deadly.
Not getting caught was the only option.
A hiss of pain escaped Susannah’s lips, but he couldn’t let her stop running. Not yet. He could hear the sound of pursuers crashing through the woods behind them, a stark reminder of the consequences of being captured.
“Please,” she groaned, tugging at his hand until he slowed the pace, sparing a second to look at her.
In the faint moon glow slanting through the canopy of trees overhead, Susannah’s dark eyes gazed up at him in pain and fear. “My feet,” she whispered.
He looked down and saw she was barefoot. Blood stained her toes, and he thought about the hard, rocky trail they’d just crossed.
Damn it.
Scanning the woods around them, he spotted a rocky outcropping due east. “Get on my back,” he said.
She stared back at him, her mouth trembling open. “What?”
“You either run on those feet or you get on my back. Or you stay here and let those guys back there catch up with you.”
Her