Chapter 36
Some stupid song blares out of the truck radio. It was better than being alone with my thoughts. For about five seconds.
Turns out, it only irritates me more, like sandpaper scrubbing over an open wound.
Evan’s voice appears inside my coms system. “Beast, copy? Over.”
“Beast here. Go ahead. Over.”
“Visual confirmation on two vehicles heading toward Carollia. A bus and a truck. The road is clear, otherwise. Over.”
A bus.
This news gives my anger a jolt of fresh energy. She probably caught a bus and blew out of town without telling me.
I clench the steering wheel with both hands, with my blood boiling as Evan relays the location. I’m thirty miles behind.
It will be hard to make up the distance on this curvy ass, poorly engineered road. Driving like a jackass in places like this can get you dead before you can blink an eye.
After I’ve breathed off some fire, I can speak again. “Can you keep eyes on them? Over.”
“Copy that.”
A few seconds later, Evan comes over the line again. “The truck just passed the bus. Over.”
“Are there a lot of other roads they could take? Over.”
“No, straight shot to the city. Over.”
An alarm blares through the open line. There’s nothing like an alarm in a helicopter cockpit to make your ass pucker.
“SITREP on that alarm…”
“Fuck.”
I go still inside as more alarms start blaring inside the chopper. “Can you set her down?”
In the awful racket of alarms, Evan’s voice is barely audible. “Copy that. I’m looking for a place now.”
He sounds surprisingly calm. “I’m going to land in a field next to the road. You’ll see me?—”
Static fills the line, echoing inside my head.
“Evan? Over.”
Nothing. Pure nerve-singeing static.
I push the gas pedal harder. I’ve aged ten years when I finally see the chopper. In one piece. Sitting in a field. Evan waves a hand from inside the cockpit.
Dirt flies when I skid to a stop and I exit the truck, heading to him. He hops out of the bird, hunkers low, and sprints toward me.
“Man, you scared the shit out of me.”
“The headset broke. Hell, the whole wiring harness was loose. The Evelina National Guard doesn”t maintain their shit. I’m working on it.”
That’s when I realize instead of looking relieved, Evan is more alarmed than I’ve ever seen him. “I think we need to keep moving. Once those vehicles hit Carollia, it’s going to be a bitch to find them.”
“Can you fix this thing?”
“Yeah, I’ll let you know when I’m off the ground.”
I’m already running toward the truck before he’s done.
It’s impossible to keep my breathing steady as I scorch the pavement.
A little voice inside my head reminds me: she could have hitched a ride with anyone.
Fuck. No. That idea sends a wave of panic through me.
She’s on that bus, not in the truck with a maniac.
I smack the radio button on the dash and glorious silence fills the cab of the truck. But the whirring thoughts inside my head are louder than any rock concert.
A really bad one. The kind that leaves your head ringing for days and you wondering why the hell you spent all that dough to go get tortured.
I’ve really done it now—resigned my post because of a rogue woman. Why does she have such an effect on me? It’s like I got bitten by something.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, while I really think about punching myself in the face. But I need to stay on the road. Stay alive and get some fucking answers.
Then, I can go back to my nice, simple life. Work. Rest. Work some more.
It’s easy that way. Besides, I have plans for the future, and that’s enough to keep me happy.
I grumble. Happy. Right.
What is that?
The ringtone of my phone surprises me. As I’m answering, the road makes a turn to the right and opens up to twice its former width.
“Beast, here.”
“Scout checking in.”
I pause for a beat, trying to get my head around what I’m about to say. “Scout, you know I’m out, you don’t have to report to me.”
He snarks at me. “Whatever. You’re not getting out of this job that easy.”
I open my mouth to curse, but he cuts me off. “Truck’s getting ready to leave to go to the hospital. Justice borrowed a motorcycle—he and Belle are taking the southbound road, they’re going to ask around about MZ while they’re searching for Camile. I’m going heads down on some research on archeology sites. Any updates on your end?”
“I’m closing in on a bus that Evan saw from the air.”
He makes an approving sound. “Well, well. That sounds promising.”
The bus comes into sight far ahead of me, climbing up a long incline. The road is one lane, bordered by two steep ravines. Hardly wide enough for the ancient-looking bus.
“I hope so, if she’s not, I’m going to be tearing that city apart.”
My eyes lock on the bus. Something’s coming in the opposite direction… moving too fast.
A motorcycle, taking up too much of the road.
The bus swerves toward the cliff’s edge and all I can do is watch horror as the front wheels go over the side. “No! NO!”
Scout is completely forgotten as I skid the truck to a stop behind the bus. Fuck. Okay, fuck.
They didn’t go over the edge.
Screams permeate the air. Smell of exhaust stings my nose.
“Don’t move!” I shout in English and then Spanish. Then I run for the back of my truck.
My insides are shaking with adrenaline as I try to punch the security code into the lock on the truck cap.
It takes two tries before I can unlock the gear storage.
I shove aside two duffel bags and grab the bright yellow tow strap. I also grab two large hooks in case I need them for attaching to the bus.
A wave of calm washes over me. Like a door has been slammed, all my emotion goes on lock.
Camile and those people need me to be the SEAL. Not a man that’s seriously fucked up over a woman he can’t understand.
I hook the strap to my truck’s front bumper. It’s an oversized beast of a bumper, made for all kinds of hard work. Marshall Lake had the foresight to kit us up right, except now I’m thinking we need a chopper of our own.
When I jog to the bus, there’s a man leaning out one of the rear windows, he’s ghostly white. Frantically, he’s reaching for me.
“No! Don’t move. No one can move.”
I hold up the tow strap to show him what I’m going to do. Then I climb below the rear of the bus.
Rust crumbles off of the ancient vehicle as I wiggle below the frame to reach the axle.
I’ve almost got it…
Just a little more.
I tug the strap, straining my arms.
Come on!
I shift around and try again.
But it stops and won’t give. Fucking hell. The strap is too short.
As strong as I am, I can’t move the damned truck by pulling on the strap.
“Motherf-n son of a bitch!”
I don’t have time to move the truck closer.
I wiggle around on my back and try a spot on the bus’s frame.
There’s a noise above me. A groan of metal.
My lungs lock up as my pulse skips. No, don’t you dare…
I have to hurry. This thing could go over the cliff any second.
Taking care not to bump anything, I hook it around part of the frame and attach the strap.
It’s too soon to celebrate. I use my feet to drag my body out from under the rear bumper and climb to my feet.
Now, the winch.
A man is standing by my truck as I run toward it. “You need help?”
He’s vaguely familiar. Possibly a local that I saw in town.
“Grab the winch cable.” I motion toward the front bumper.
I reach inside the cab and turn the winch controls on.
My clothing is soaked with stress sweat. I’m vibrating with adrenaline as I round the truck to watch over him pulling the hook toward the bus.
But he’s not pulling the winch cable out.
He’s pointing a gun at me.