Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers, #9)(59)
“We’re jerking him all over the place,” she said, worried.
“We’ve got him tucked in tight. He’s barely moving,” Kane soothed her. “Do you hear your mommy, Sebastian? She isn’t worried about the gunfire, just you.”
“We’re taking a lot of gunfire,” Rose said unnecessarily, “but they aren’t hitting anything. Just around us.”
Which made it damn difficult to drive. Whitney’s men were aiming in front of them, blasting away, pitting the creek bed and throwing more debris into the air so that rocks hit the sides and roof of the Humvee.
“They want you alive, honey, so they can’t exactly blast the Hummer. They have to stop us, not kill us. Well, not kill you. Apparently I’m disposable.”
Rose drove up the side of the shallow creek to avoid a huge crater and then back down into the hellfire. Kane steadied the joystick, swinging the M2 .50-caliber around until he had the two-man team tearing up the creek bed in his sights. He sent off three rounds and swung the weapon back to protect their flank as one of the cartel’s lighter jeeps fell in behind him.
He hesitated. The jeep was drawing fire from Whitney’s men. The second vehicle, a red jeep, turned tail and was making its way back up the steep slope. For a moment it looked as if the red jeep would make it, putting on a burst of speed, but then it stalled, stopping. The passenger bailed out, diving as far as he could from the jeep and scrambling for cover, still clutching his rifle. In slow motion the jeep flipped, slamming into the ground, rolling, picking up speed and momentum. Halfway down the slope, the driver lay crumpled and broken, his body sprawled out over a pile of rocks. The jeep hit a boulder jutting out and took to the air.
One of Whitney’s men hit it with a rocket in midair, turning the vehicle into a fiery ball of orange red. The explosion rained down metal and shrapnel. Behind them, the cartel’s jeep inched closer, one of the men half standing, clinging to the roll bar, as if he was considering jumping to the roof of the Humvee.
“He’s plain psychotic,” Kane said aloud.
“Have you considered shooting them?” Rose demanded.
“No, he’s actually providing a little cover for us.”
Kane’s belly took a dive, suddenly hardening into a series of tight knots. The hair on his arms raised. “Get us out of here, Rose.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, that’s what I’m trying to do.” She glared at him.
“No, I mean out of this creek bed.”
“How am I supposed to do that? We don’t exactly have a lot of options here, Kane.”
He ignored the bite to her voice. The hair on the back of his neck was now tingling, much like the whiskers on a leopard, a kind of radar, and right now, although he couldn’t explain it to her, he knew his warning system was shrieking at him.
“Fucking do it, Rose. I don’t care how. Get us out of here.”
He swiveled around constantly, looking for the threat. Everything inside of him urged him to take Rose and Sebastian and get out of the Humvee.
“Now, damn it!”
Something was just up ahead, just where the creek bed began a long slow, sweeping bend. He strained his eyes trying to see, nearly standing, one hand instinctively reaching out to protect his child, but the sense of urgency was so strong, he covered the child and the makeshift car seat and armor with his own body.
Abruptly the Hummer lurched as Rose fought the wheel, driving them up and over an impossible set of rocks. Kane swung around to look behind them, still protecting Sebastian. Unable to follow, the cartel’s jeep continued on a few more feet and suddenly vanished as if it had never been, dropping down into a large crater, a sinkhole a good hundred feet deep.
Rose swore under her breath as the Humvee rocked from side to side, laboring to climb over the dense shrubbery and rocky incline.
“We can’t make it straight up,” she said. “I’ll try inching my way up, but if they start shooting ...” She broke off abruptly as the hillside above them exploded and rocks and dirt rained down on them. “That’s what I was afraid of. We can’t get back into that creek bed, Kane. They’re going to trap us.”
Kane was already back in his seat, hand on the joystick. They were going to have to shoot their way out. “Keep moving forward, even if it’s running along the bank.”
She complied. “We’re awfully close to that sinkhole, Kane, and we weigh a hell of a lot.”
“I know, sweetheart.” He centered the screen on the mortar gun wreaking havoc above them. “When I say go, move up a few feet and keep running parallel.”
He blasted the mortar gun and all around it, firing round after round, providing cover. “Now, Rose.” He kept it up, pounding the area to prevent them from pitting the canyon wall and destroying any path they might find to take them out or around the stronghold Whitney’s men had established.
Rose was already jolting them forward, the Humvee rolling over the thick foliage and smashing down the displaced dirt.
Where the hell are you, Mack? Because if his team hadn’t gotten the message loud and clear that he’d left for them in the desert, he and Rose and Sebastian were bound to have to dig in and hold off Whitney’s little army. They had enough water and ammunition to last for a time, but they needed reinforcements—and soon.
Mack had to have sent out a couple of birds to look for signs, and he’d left an abundance of them each night. The last sign had been unmistakable: Come now. They had to have seen his messages, and he’d pointed them back to the ravine. Surely ...