Chapter 11
Simon rushed past Danny, blew through the storeroom and out the delivery door of the Crawdad Hole.
A truck spun gravel up as it shot out of the parking lot.
Bikers mounted their motorcycles, the engines raising a deafening roar in the night air.
Even if he could get to his truck, Simon wouldn’t make it out of the parking lot with all five hundred motorcycles leaving at the same time.
“Dude,” a voice called out over the roar. “Get on the back. I’ll get you there.”
The man who’d called himself Mace pulled up beside him on a shiny black Harley Davidson.
With no better option and the truck carrying Holly getting further away by the second, Simon slung his leg over the back seat, grabbed hold of the man’s leather jacket and held on.
Mace zigzagged through the mass exodus of motorcycles. He drove down into a shallow ditch and back up to get around the slow-moving procession and back onto the road, less clogged by cyclists eager to leave before the sheriff arrived.
Mace gunned the throttle, sending the motorcycle shooting forward, passing others in a flash.
Simon leaned around the big guy, searching the road ahead until he finally spotted the taillights of the truck he hoped had Holly inside. “There!” he shouted over the roar of the engine and pointed at the truck.
Mace leaned forward, pushing the motorcycle as fast as it would go.
Without a helmet with a face shield, Simon squinted against the wind and the bugs inherent in the Louisiana night sky.
He remembered this part of the highway would come to a T intersection not much further ahead. The truck’s brake lights lit up.
There.
The kidnappers had to slow down to turn right or left.
Mace zoomed forward, closing the distance between them and the truck.
The truck turned right.
Before reaching the intersection, Mace left the road, dipped down into the ditch and back up onto a gravel patch. Simon held on for dear life as they went back into a ditch and up onto the highway, arriving alongside the bed of the truck.
The driver didn’t appear to notice because of the commotion in the passenger seat.
A man held Holly as she kicked and fought to free herself from his grip.
Anger burned through Simon. “Get me closer,” he called out.
Mace drove to within a foot of the truck bed.
Simon braced his hands on the big guy’s shoulders and pushed himself up to get his feet on the seat.
Ahead, the road curved. He had to go now or miss his chance.
Simon leaped from the back of the motorcycle into the bed of the truck, landing on his hands and knees among an array of junk and tools.
Mace dropped back behind them, keeping pace.
Once in the truck bed, Simon realized he wasn’t in much better position as he’d been on the back of the motorcycle. He couldn’t just step out onto the running board, yank open the door and tell the driver to stop, could he?
He peered around the side and shook his head.
Not at sixty miles per hour.
The truck’s back windshield didn’t have a sliding window for him to push to the side and crawl through.
The truck hit a pothole, tossing Simon to one side.
As he used his hands to right himself, his fingers wrapped around a smooth, heavy tool.
He raised it to the starlight, revealing a large pipe wrench.
He stood in a wide stance to better balance, swung the wrench back and then sharply forward, putting all his weight into it as he hit the back window.
Glass shattered inward, leaving a gaping, jagged hole.
The driver swerved, throwing Simon onto his backside.
Someone inside the truck muttered a long string of curses. “What the hell?”
The truck swerved back in the opposite direction.
Simon waited another moment, then crawled toward the broken window and, from a kneeling position, swung the wrench again. The remaining glass crashed inward.
“Do something. He’s destroying my truck!” the driver said.
“I can’t do anything...” the man holding Holly grunted, “with this...” another grunt, “bitch... Will you hold still?”
“No,” Holly’s voice sounded from inside the cab. “Pull over now, or my boyfriend is going to beat your scrawny asses.”
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” the driver said.
Simon braced himself as the driver jerked the steering wheel to the left.
“Goddamn woman,” the man holding Holly shouted. “Oh, fuck, she’s loose. Look out!”
Simon looked through the back window in time to see Holly lunge for the steering wheel.
She grabbed it and pulled hard.
Before the driver could correct, the truck ran off the road.
Simon dropped flat in the bed, bouncing with the junk. The truck came to an abrupt halt, flinging Simon forward. Water splashed over the sides of the bed, drenching Simon.
Simon dragged himself up to his hands and knees and looked through the broken glass.
Holly lay across the cab, trapped between the men and the dashboard, trying to untangle herself as water rushed to fill the cab.
“I can’t get out of my seatbelt,” the man in the passenger seat said.
“Me either, and the door won’t open,” the driver said. “Get her off me.” He shoved at Holly.
With nowhere to go, she didn’t move far.
“Have to get out,” the passenger said. “Help!”
“Help!” the driver echoed.
“For Pete’s sake,” Holly said. “Quit bellyaching and help me get off the two of you.”
“Come through the back window,” Simon called out. “I’ll help.”
The back of the truck dipped.
Mace moved up beside Simon. “I’ll help as well.”
Simon found the pipe wrench and used it to sweep the last bits of broken glass from the back window. “I’m going in.”
“I’ve got your back,” Mace said and helped Simon shimmy halfway through the window.
“Holly, can you reach toward the back of the truck?”
“Only if these idiots will let go of me.”
“If you let her go,” Simon said, “we’ll help you out as well. If you don’t let go, we’ll get her out without your help and leave you to drown.”
“Time’s running out, boys,” Holly said. “What’s it to be?”
“Well damn, there goes a thousand bucks,” the driver said. “She’s coming out.” Moments later, Holly was shoved toward Simon. He grabbed her forearm and pulled her through the window, into his arms and kissed her.
She captured his cheeks between her palms and kissed him back. “I knew you’d come.”
“What about us? It’s getting deep in here,” the passenger said.
“Much as they deserve to drown, we can’t let it happen.” Holly scrambled out of the way.
Before Simon could go back in, Mace handed him a wicked-looking knife like the one Simon had carried in his Delta Force days. “You might need this.”
Armed with the knife, Simon pushed through the back window.
Water had risen to the point that both men trapped in their seatbelts had to tip their heads back to breathe.
Simon reached for the driver first, felt beneath the water for the seatbelt. He slid the knife under the belt and sliced through it.
By then, the water was covering the guy’s face, only his nose remaining free.
Free of the belt, he pushed upward.
Simon started to move back to get out of the way, but the guy in the passenger seat captured his arm and held on with a panicked death grip. Simon fought to free his arm.
The driver attempted to push past him. In the confusion, they were all three stuck. With water rushing in, Simon had barely sucked in a breath when a hand clamped down on his ankles and yanked him backward, out of the cab, through the window and into open air.
Mace shoved him aside, reached in and pulled the driver out.
The man dropped onto the bed of the truck, coughing the water out of his lungs.
Mace pointed at the man. “Make any stupid moves and I’ll shove you back in that truck and let you drown.” To Simon, he said. “Go. Get the other guy.”
Simon drew in a breath and dove into the truck, felt his way to the passenger still trapped in his seatbelt, struggling to break free.
Simon sliced through the guy’s belt at the same time the man managed to shove open his door. The two men swam out into the murky water and came up for air.
The man he’d just rescued turned on Simon and tried to shove him under.
Simon fought for the surface.
A shout from above made the man stop.
Simon came up to find Holly standing in the truck bed, holding the pipe wrench like a sledgehammer and looking like an avenging warrior—a wet, bedraggled warrior with flashing eyes and a fierce scowl.
“That’s right. You heard me. You hurt him, and I’ll crush your skull and leave you for the alligators to finish off. ”
Simon shoved the man toward the bank. He crawled up the muddy slope and collapsed on the ground near the rear of the truck.
Mace and Holly stood nearby, with the driver seated on the ground, his wrists secured behind his back in a zip tie.
Mace jerked the other man around and cinched his wrists in another zip-tie.
Simon’s lips quirked. “Your zip ties?”
Mace nodded. “Always keep a few handy. Never know when you’ll need them.” He shoved the man to his knees, forcing him to sit beside his cohort in crime. “Sheriff’s on the way.”
Simon pulled Holly close. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I am.”
He nodded toward the guys on the ground. “Recognize these characters?”
“Sadly, I do.” She shook her head. “The driver is Germain, and that’s his cousin, Bubba. They’re members of the Fontenot clan.” Her eyes narrowed in the light from the Harley. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Germain shrugged. “Some guy offered me a thousand bucks to take you to the old cane mill. It was supposed to be an easy grand.”
“Yeah. Easy.” Bubba snorted. “I think she broke my rib, and I nearly drowned.”
“You’re lucky Holly has a soft spot for idiots,” Simon said. “I would’ve let you drown.” He stepped closer, his fists clenching at his sides. “Who paid you?”
“I don’t know,” Germain said. “It was a phone call from an unknown number.”
Mace grabbed Germain by the front of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. “I’ve got a daughter about Holly’s age. I’d kill any man who did that to her. It would be justice served to throw you to the alligators.”