Chapter 11 #2
Up ahead, another path appeared out of the mist, larger, fewer snagging branches.
Tierney slowed, gaze focused up the trail, when Buck lunged forward, stepping in front as two men charged down the pathway, boots splashing through puddles, branches clawing at their clothes.
He caught the first guy low, cracking his knee as he knocked the other merc’s gun sideways, sent the rounds spraying across a patch of sword fern.
The guy countered, wrestling as they both threw a few punches, grappling for power.
Sloane moved in close, KA-BAR flashing in the dull light.
She didn’t hesitate just tossed it at the guy when he turned their way, the blade hitting him just outside his vest. He fell back, landing in a pocket of salmonberry bushes, the thorns raking across his cheeks.
He growled, tried to roll, but she knocked him out with a firm kick to the head.
Buck finished the other asshole with the butt of his rifle, waving them on as voices rose behind them, boots slogging through the mud.
Tierney broke into a run, leaping over logs, following the narrowing path until Nick wasn’t even sure they were on one.
But she kept going, zeroing in on an opening up ahead, when she stopped, signaled them all to drop.
They hit the mud, breath held, weapons at the ready as headlights flickered through the trees, an SUV ghosting in and out of view along what must have been a gravel road.
Stones crunched beneath tires, the light sweeping through the foliage as they drove down one side, turned then retraced their steps, lingering about twenty meters up the road.
Tierney glanced back at them, pushed to her feet, then wove along some kind of goat trail that followed the road.
She didn’t speak, just angled them down a slick slope, keeping an eye on that road.
They reached a muddy scree section, half-slid, half-fell down it, before hitting a wide gully, a narrow stream snaking through the rocks.
A dark-colored truck sat at the edge of the stream, camo netting draped over the top, a scattering of branches leaning against the sides.
Tierney broke into a run, tearing off the netting once she reached the vehicle.
Buck cleared off any branches that would catch on the tires, then slid behind the wheel, chassis creaking, the entire truck dipping a bit.
Tierney climbed in the passenger side as Nick opened the rear door, helped Sloane slide across the seats before jumping in beside her, shutting the door. The engine ticked, then caught, purring as Buck popped it into gear, rolled down the small incline, then onto a narrow patch beside the riverbed.
Branches slapped at the truck, needles and dead leaves blowing across the hood as he closed in on that logging road, engine growling, windows fogging.
He hit the junction, fishtailed the vehicle onto the road, throwing mud and gravel like shrapnel.
The engine revved, a few water bottles jumping across the floorboards as he pumped the gas, surging ahead.
Lights cut in behind them a moment later, the SUV from earlier skipping around the far bend, the massive grill bearing down on them. A couple men slipped out the open windows, the first shot punching into the tailgate with a punishing thump.
Tierney watched the road, calling out directions as Buck barreled along the track, driving like he had a score to settle.
He took the turns hard and fast, spraying out curtains of gravel, somehow keeping all four tires on the road.
They hit a patch of washboard, skipped sideways, but Buck kept going, manhandling the vehicle through the bumps, rolling out the other side still screaming.
Sloane opened the small, sliding window across the back, fired off a few rounds. The SUV veered left, riding the edge of the road before swerving back.
She cursed. “They’ve got run-flats and an armored grill.”
Buck glanced at her in the rearview. “Just, hold on.”
He increased his speed, the fog reducing the visibility to several feet, not that he seemed to care, operating on faith or intuition.
Tierney leaned over. “Tide’s coming in. We’ve got one chance to make the crossing, or we’re screwed.”
Nick cleared his throat. “Crossing? What crossing?”
She sighed. “You’ll see. Buck, take the next right, then cut through the alder stand on the left to a narrow spur. We’ll ride that to the tidal shelf.”
Buck didn’t even hesitate, following her directions as the truck bounced down a logged clearing, suspension screaming, tires spinning. They hit the bottom, turned left, then sped across a short path and onto the shore.
Wet sand stretched out before them, endless waves lining one side, a steep, cliff face bracketing the other. White waves rolled across the pebbled beach, clawing at the rocks before retreating, the next breaker surging in even higher.
Nick inhaled, the narrow shelf between the tide and the cliff quickly closing. “Tierney…”
She held firm, nodding at Buck when his buddy picked up speed. “It’s gonna be close, but if Buck hits the right line, we should make it through.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Not an option.”
Buck committed, pegging the speedometer way too high for the conditions as he raced along the shoreline, tires slipping a bit in the sand. Waves slapped the rocks, foam collecting in small pools as they hit the shelf, clawed their way through the standing water.
An incoming breaker slammed the side of the truck, shoved the entire vehicle sideways as they reached the narrow pinch, rocks looming on both sides. Buck rode the wave, turning into the slide, back wheels chewing at the cliff before the rear end slingshotted back.
The vehicle overcorrected, swinging the other way just enough it caught the mirror, snapped it off as they scraped the basalt, a high-pitched screech echoing through the cab.
Nick held his breath, planning how he’d get Sloane out of the vehicle if they got swept into the ocean, when the tires caught, propelled them forward.
They slewed out the other side, sand flying, bits of the mirror still dropping off.
The SUV slowed, water already lapping at the wheels as the driver seemed to gauge the odds. He gunned it, got swept sideways by a large wave, only to stop, again, retreat, the passage submerged beneath a churning layer of white water.
Buck veered right, headed up a semi-hidden access ramp, then onto a higher road.
Below them, the SUV idled on the wrong side of the shelf, the surf pounding the cliff, the water covering the passage rising.
Their headlights punched through the fog, slowly fading as Buck turned onto another road — left the shoreline behind them.
Nick relaxed against the seat. “That was interesting.”
Tierney sighed. “Every salvation has its concessions. This one has a one-way gate that only opens during low tide.”
“You two got a place in mind?”
“We’ll head to my cabin, reassess. Hopefully Avery’s got some intel because now that the Reaper’s got your scent…”
He wouldn’t give up, and Nick knew they’d only won the battle, not the war.