Predatory Game (GhostWalkers, #6)(109)

Brady gripped his gun and nodded.

Saber backed onto the curb, staying as low as possible. She hooked Brady under his arms and heaved, dragging him over the bump. His breath left his body in a rush, but he remained silent as they fell backward onto the grass. They lay gasping for breath, Saber under the upper half of Brady’s body.

She put her mouth against his ear. “There’s a ledge, a large one, just behind us. I’m going to try to get you there. Let’s just rest for a minute.” She could feel Brady’s heart racing. His pulse was thready. He was heading toward shock. His skin had gone clammy. “Can you hang on a little longer, Brady? I’ll get you help as soon as I can.”

Brady managed a brief grin. “My backside’s a little raw, ma’am.”

In spite of the gravity of their situation, she found herself smiling back. “Come on, tough guy, let’s move.”

All the while she was listening for a sound, anything that would tell her where their attacker was. She watched the parking lot as she dragged Brady backward. Now that they’d been in the dark awhile, eyes were adjusting, which wasn’t a good thing. She felt the need to move faster, but forced herself to keep their pace slow.

She saw a figure move, running from the side of the building to the shelter of one of the trees. Her heart jumped. She took a breath and allowed adrenaline to give her the rush she was going to need.

“He’s over by the smaller of the trees closest to the station. Keep your eye on him. If he goes for the car, can you hit him? Are you good with that gun? Because, seriously, if you’re not, I am. The thing is, though, it will make me sick—really, really sick—to kill.”

He was silent for a moment, his grin widening. “Just how good are you with a gun?”

“I’ve had a lot of weapons training and I qualify as an expert marksman.”

“You’re just full of surprises. And mean as a snake. You want that son of a bitch dead, don’t you?”

“I want him gone. And I don’t want to have to worry that he’s going to come after me again.” She didn’t know any other way to shoot than to shoot to kill.

They were right at the ledge now. She didn’t want Brady to drop to the other side until he fired the shot or gave her the gun. They’d only have one shot at it. Once he’d given away their position, she’d have to stash him and draw the attacker away from him. Her only hope was that the madman didn’t want to kill her right away. Whatever this was—whoever it was—it had nothing to do with the army and the investigation Jess was conducting. The man was a stalker—her stalker.

They lay in the thin grass, willing the man to go toward the cars. He called out Saber’s name again, the sound so strange she realized he had to be using a device to distort the tone enough to disguise it. She knew him. She always identified people by their particular biorhythm, the way their body was unique. She had to tune out everything else and just hear him if she was going to recognize him. And that meant she couldn’t do it until she could get far enough away from Brady so his heartbeat wouldn’t interfere.

Everything to her was an electrical current—a kind of code—and she knew if she could get close enough, her body would pick her stalker’s rhythm up.

“He’s moving,” Brady said.

She blinked to bring the shadowy figure into focus. He took a couple of tentative steps. Brady brought the gun up.

“I might be able to hit him,” he said. “The company van is blocking him, but I might tag him if he comes out into the open.”

“Go for it if you think you can.”

He flicked her one quick glance and then shifted to get into a better position. His hand was shaking. Sweat dripped into his eyes.

Their attacker crouched low, looked left and right, and then ran toward the cars. The sound of his boots hitting the asphalt seemed overly loud in the silence.

Saber took the gun from Brady’s hand, aimed, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet caught the man low, slamming him backward. The sound of the gunshot reverberated across the parking lot. He yelled and fired off several rounds as he went down, shooting wildly. The barrage of bullets hit cars and trees and went into the dirt, but didn’t come close to them.

Saber pushed to her feet. She had very little time. Already the violent energy was rushing to overtake her. Brady tried to catch her with an outstretched hand, but she brushed past him and ran toward the downed man, the gun rock steady on him. She had to finish him before the energy hit her and she went down. There was no one else to protect Brady, and his wound was serious.

“Don’t!” Brady called sharply.

She was aware of him struggling to get to his feet, but she couldn’t stay and help. The wounded man thrashed on the ground, cursing aloud, and she gripped the gun harder, her stomach churning. She willed him to turn the gun on her. She didn’t want to kill him in cold blood—like an assassin. She wanted it to at least be self-defense.

She made noise as she ran, deliberately making her footsteps loud, hoping he’d bring up the gun, but he kept screaming and rolling on the asphalt. Saber skidded to a halt, brought up the gun, and stared down into the face of the man who had violated her sanctuary—her home.

“Les.” She let out her breath, a little shocked that the day soundman could have been stalking her for the last few weeks. He barely spoke to her, in fact the rare times they worked together, he was surly and mean.