The Naturalist (The Naturalist #1)(96)

“Anyone hit?” Glenn shouts from the front—presumably crouched down like we are.

“I’m good,” whispers Jillian.

“I’m okay.”

The light beam flickers again.

“He’s moving.”

“Stay down,” says Glenn. I hear him slipping his magazine out of his gun, then pushing it back. “I’m going to count to three, then fire back.”

“He won’t be there,” I say.

“What?”

“He’s going to try to make a feint. Probably on your side.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because he knows you’re armed and needs to take you out first.”

“Are you—”

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Bullets fly above our heads and send more glass fragments raining down on us like angry hail.

“FUCK!” Glenn screams.

“Are you hit?”

“Grazed. Went through the door. I’m going to return fire. You two get out on the other side and stay behind the vehicle!”

“Hold on,” says Jillian. I realize she’s got Seward’s keys. Her nervous fingers find the handcuff key, and she unlocks me. “Okay.”

Glenn begins to fire his gun, filling the cab with a deafening noise.

I fumble with the door handle and climb out, keeping low. Jillian slides out after me.

“Are you out?” yells Glenn.

“Clear.”

“He’s lying down in the grass. I think I may have got him.”

“Or he’s just taking up a sniper’s position,” Jillian replies.

“Maybe. I’m going to fire again. When I do, head deep into the woods.”

I have a bad feeling about that. The forest is his home turf, but I don’t have a better idea.

“Go!” Glenn shouts, then starts shooting.

Jillian and I start through the woods, but I freeze the moment Glenn’s shooting stops.

“What is it?” asks Jillian.

We’re about ten feet away from the truck. I can see patches of grass beyond the tree trunks. Joe is nowhere to be seen.

“Other way!” I yank her by the arm. “He’s already in here!”

We race around the truck, putting it between us and the forest, and climb up the hill toward the highway.

I look back and see the tip of Glenn’s pistol above the dashboard.

I yell, “He’s in the trees, coming up behind you!”

Glenn pops his head up and spots us running toward the road. Without hesitating, he crawls through the open windshield, rolls across the hood, and chases after us.

I see him stop and look back at Seward, afraid to leave him.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Rifle fire emerges from the woods, and bullets ricochet off the truck.

“RUN!” I scream.

Jillian is pulling at my arm, trying to get me to move as well.

We hop over the guardrail as bullets puncture it, making a loud metal twang. Glenn hits the side of the hill, twists around, and returns fires back in the same direction the shots originated.

The rifle fire comes to a halt, and he picks himself up and races over the top of the rise, catching up to Jillian and me.

We run to the ambulance lying on its passenger side. The lights are still flashing and the back wheels are spinning, having crashed only moments ago.

The paramedic is bent over the passenger side door, getting to his knees.

We pull him to the far side of the vehicle, away from the forest.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I think.”

I point down the road. “Then take her and run.”

“No,” Jillian says flatly. She turns to the paramedic. “Go!”

Already spooked by the gunfire, he breaks off into a sprint.

Behind us, red and blue lights flash as a Hudson Creek police cruiser comes to a skidding halt. An older cop jumps out of the driver’s seat. “What’s going on?”

“Shooter in the woods!” says Glenn.

The cop starts to stride toward us, exposed to the trees.

“Stay back!” yells Glenn.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The officer’s shoulder is ripped open, and he drops to the ground, screaming.

“Help me get him!” I say to Glenn, then hunch over and hurry toward the fallen man.

“Let’s take him to the car and use it to get out of here,” replies Jillian.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

A burst of automatic fire sprays into the cruiser, puncturing the radiator and sending up a cloud of steam.

“Shit! He has us pinned!” says Glenn. “I’m going to fire. You grab him and bring him to the ambulance.”

Glenn fires his gun twice, then ducks behind the cruiser, using it as a shield.

Jillian helps me drag the downed cop to the inside of the ambulance. He valiantly tries to stifle his screams as we lift him across the sideways door.

I start searching through the medical supplies all over the floor—which was once a wall—for some bandages, find them, and start wrapping the man’s shoulder wound. It’s a mess.

Through the back window, I spot Glenn climbing into the police cruiser and taking out the shotgun.

He moves toward the hood and puts a finger to his lips when he sees us watching. He points to his eyes then toward the back of us.