Page 18 of Rami

“Come on, come on!” Taschen waved from the open door at the back of the van.

Ivy’s slight body jostled in Rami’s arms. Urgency chomped at his tailbone, and not just because the cartel was on their ass. She needed water and medical attention. ASAP. Every second she was in his arms and not getting treated was a second wasted.

He skidded up to the running vehicle and climbed in the back with Ivy in his arms. Taschen slammed the side door less than a second after August leapt into the bench seat. The engine roared as Taschen kicked the van into drive and careened away from the camper.

“She needs help,” Rami bellowed at August, as he settled her on the makeshift bed. He studied her slack expression under the light of his headlamp. Her skin was a pasty grayish color, her lips cracked and white.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“There’s electrolytes in my medic bag. Try to get some in her—I’m gonna need to keep us covered.” August rolled down his window and air whipped inside the vehicle. Taschen was driving at breakneck speed.

Rami didn’t dare glance outside. Didn’t want to take his focus from Ivy for fear she’d use the opportunity to slip away. “Ivy,” he barked. “Stay with me.”

Snagging the black bag, he unzipped it and then dug through the contents. He pulled out a small packet filled with liquid and tore off the top. Catching the back of her neck, he brought the plastic to her lips. “Come on, Ivy. Take a sip.”

Her lips were slightly parted. He couldn’t pour the shit down her throat for fear she’d choke but instead put a few drops inside her lips. “Dude,” he called to August. “She’s gonna need an IV.” His voice shook more than it should have.

Beams of light glowed in the back windows of the van. Rami swiped off his headlamp. A Jeep loomed behind them. Shit.

“I can’t get an IV in her until we’re steady,” August yelled. “We need to lose these guys.” He leaned out the window and fired at the Jeep.

Crack, crack, crack!

The cartel returned shots. Bullets pinged off the van. Rami lowered Ivy to the blankets and reached for his weapon. The bullets wouldn’t get through the van’s body or windows, but the tires were their weak point.

He cupped Ivy’s sleeping cheek. “Hang on.” Climbing over the bench, he went to the window opposite August.

His friend grinned at him. “I’ll aim for their driver. You get the tires.”

Rami powered down the window and the wind inside the car intensified.

“Come on, dipshits,” Taschen called. “Get these guys off our asses! If they get close enough to read our plate, we’re fucked.”

“On it.” Rami braced himself on the doorframe, took aim at the Jeep’s tires, and fired.

“Did you get ’em?” August hollered.

“No.” The Jeep was closing in. Rami cursed and leaned over the bench seat to grab his equipment bag. The glow from his headlamp on the floor lit Ivy’s pale, malnourished body. Ice licked his veins.

They didn’t have any more time.

He grabbed a grenade from its protective case.

August inhaled sharply. “Are you fucking crazy?”

“Yup.” Rami returned to the window, pulled the pin, and threw the device. The grenade landed on the dirt and a few seconds later, the Jeep straddled the bomb.

Kaboom!

The ground shook and the Jeep flipped backward from the force of the explosion. The van shook and Taschen cursed as he righted it. Debris soared through the air, hailing down around the van.

Taschen whooped.

“You smart sonofabitch,” August said with a chortle, slumping in the seat and wiping sweat from his dirt-streaked face.

Rami smirked, but his attention went right back to Ivy’s unmoving form. He clambered over the seat and sank down next to her, bringing his face close to hers. Soft, barely audible breaths came from her lips.

August climbed in the back with them, his eyes grave. He brought his fingers to her neck, and Rami watched as August silently took her pulse. He glanced at Rami and swallowed. “She needs a hospital.” He reached for his bag and dug through the contents.

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