Thin Lines (The Child Thief #3)(65)

Reaching my scooter’s hiding place, I rummaged through the bushes and pulled it out. Jace immediately jumped on the kick-starter, bringing the engine roaring to life. I breathed out a sigh of relief, glad to know the hotwiring was still in place, and then tucked myself up against his back, preparing for the start of our journey.

Kory revved up his scooter, then Abe, then Ant, and we were just rolling out toward the dirt track when a shout came thundering out of the forest.

“Get off those scooters and put your hands on your heads! You’re under arrest! Stop, by order of the Compliance Authority!”

We ducked down as one, the drivers hit the gas on the scooters, and we went shooting into the forest, crouched over the handlebars of our bikes. Behind us, I heard several other engines roar to life, and a second later I could hear other bikes behind us. Bikes with much larger engines, if the sound of them was any indication.

“Jace, they’ve got motorcycles!” I gasped.

“I can hear them just as well as you can, Robin!” he hissed back. “My gun, it’s in the waistband of my jeans at the small of my back. Right between us. Can you reach it?”

I shoved my hand in between us, ran it down his back, and found the handle of his handgun sticking out of his jeans. I grabbed it and pulled it out, quickly moving my fingers over it to make sure the safety was still on. The last thing I wanted to do was shoot one of us in the chase.

Behind us, the sound of the motorcycle engines was getting louder, their riders obviously gaining on us.

“Dammit, how did you miss them?” I shouted.

“They must have had them covered with brush!” Jace answered. “I circled the scooters three times!”

A bullet came whizzing right by our heads, barely missing us.

“Well, as long as they’re shooting at us, I suggest we return the favor!” Jace snapped. “Think you can take them down?”

I gaped at him, then pulled myself together and shot a glance behind us. There were three of them that I could see, and the good news was that they were quite close. That would make it easier to hit them. Not them, though, I corrected myself. I’d never shot a person before in my life, and I really didn’t want to start right now. They might be trying to kill us, but that didn’t mean I had to stoop to their level.

I held the gun up, pointed at the motorcycle closest to us, and took a moment to steady my arm and sight down the barrel of the gun. Squeeze without turning the barrel, squeeze without turning the barrel, I reminded myself, remembering the things Nelson had taught me the first time she let me shoot one of her guns. Too many people twisted their wrists when they pulled the trigger, thereby throwing off the aim and making the shot go awry.

I’d never had that problem. I’d learned early to keep my wrist stiff. I just hoped my body remembered that. Because I was under no delusions about the danger in this situation. If I made the first shot, the others would fall back and become more cautious—and give me more time to get another two shots off.

Jace suddenly ran over something, and my hand shot up and then bounced, and I had to really work to correct my aim. But there it was, a moment later, and I firmed my wrist, made certain that the gun was aiming at what I wanted to hit… and pulled the trigger.

The motorcycle closest to us skidded out and went running off in the other direction, the front tire blown out. The man who’d been riding it went skidding in the other direction and came to a sudden and complete stop against the trunk of a tree.

He wouldn’t be getting up to bother us again, I thought, and I turned my arm, aimed for the next motorcycle, and pulled the trigger. The same thing happened, and I grinned to myself and then aimed for the third bike.

This driver was more clever, though. He’d seen what happened to his colleagues. He knew what I was going to do and started dodging in and out of the trees around him, making it harder for me to lock on with my gun. Until, a few seconds later, I realized that there was a pattern to his movements. Veering on the far side of two trees, then on the close side of one. It meant he was exposed to my gun for less time, but it also made him predictable.

I followed him with the gun, committing his path to my mind, and then shot as he came around a tree again.

His bike skidded out and then hit a rock and flew up into the air, coming down in the distance with a horrible crunching sound.

The man had jumped off during the skid, though, and was barely moving in the pile of leaves into which he’d flown. He wasn’t going to get up and chase us anytime soon.

“Got them,” I said, turning back to Jace and flipping the safety on the gun.

“That was well done,” he called back to me. “But keep the gun out. We don’t know how many more agents we’re going to run into.”

I didn’t argue with him. I just fitted the gun more firmly to my hand and kept an eye on the path behind and ahead.





24





The rest of the ride through the forest was uneventful, but I kept the gun in my hand all the same, quickly taking a liking to the security of having it there. I rode with my gun hand lowered at my side, the weapon hanging next to my hip, and my other arm wrapped around Jace’s middle. And for the first time in a very long time, I felt as if I was in control of a situation. As if I had actually accomplished something. Maybe I needed to start carrying a gun all the time.

Then I realized how ridiculous I probably looked. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t the gun-wielding sort. I hadn’t even wanted to shoot those Authority agents back there. I’d only shot to get their bikes out from under them and make sure they couldn’t follow us. With any luck, they wouldn’t be in any state to radio in to their team where we’d gone, or that we’d gone at all.