Page 52 of Extracted

Gemma tensed in front of him, her body radiating fire.

“Three.” He snagged her gun as she darted for the tree.

The men lifted their weapons. Dallas fired two shots at the leader and he went down. The bald man shot at Dallas, but the bullet smacked into a tree, exploding bark into the air. The man in the baseball cap, to the right, ran into the trees.

Crack!

Dallas dropped to his knees and shot the second man in the legs. He fell like a stone as a sharp cry of anguish exploded from his lips.

He stood and fired again, this time getting the guy in the chest and throat. A quick look at the leader revealed his glassy stare at the sky. Dead.

“Come on!” Gemma cried, waving to him from the tree.

He bent to pick up the gun he’d surrendered and stuffed it into the waistband of his pants. Then he ran for the leader and swiped his weapon. After scooping up their backpacks, he met Gemma at the tree.

Her hands slapped his chest, and tears soaked her cheeks. “Are you hurt?” she choked out, running her hands down his sides.

After passing her Eli’s gun, he cupped her head and kissed her forehead. “No. But one of the men is still out there. He ran into the trees and I didn’t get him. We need to move.”

She pulled away. “The vehicle. Maybe the keys are in it.”

He caught her hand. “Let’s go.” Dallas towed her through the dense foliage, making a path that was U shaped—away from the direction of their shoot-out and then back toward the road.

Gemma squeezed his hand as if she anticipated the third man would jump out any second. Dallas took wide steps, his feet gingerly touching the leaves and tree roots. A stumble or snap of a twig would alert him. Sweat poured down his face. Each constrained step used up more and more of his energy. The foliage got thinner. He stopped at the line of jungle before the road, keeping out of sight.

The shrill ring of a satellite phone pierced the discord of the jungle noises.

Gemma shook his arm. “He’s not far.”

He tugged her to his side. “I’m going to get close to the vehicle and see if the keys are there. Wait here and watch. If I give you the signal, run to the jeep. We don’t have much time.”

Her throat bobbed and she nodded. He broke away from her and moved over the road. The sound of the man’s voice carried over the trees. He spoke loudly on the phone in Spanish, his voice pitched and irate.

Dallas darted quickly over the dirt, placing all the weight on the balls of his feet and keeping his gun pointed toward the jungle. The beige jeep had no doors or roof. Reaching for the ignition, he touched the keys dangling there. He spun toward where Gemma stood and motioned for her to come as he lowered their bags into the back seat. She broke through the trees, her eyes trained on the jungle to her right. She held the gun between her palms, pointed at the earth. And damn if she didn’t look sexy as hell doing it.

She reached the passenger side and slid her ass into the seat. “Hurry.”

Dallas climbed into the driver’s seat and shifted his gun to his left hand. “Get down. He’ll come out shooting as soon as I start this.”

She gripped the dash and nodded. Ducking, she covered the back of her head with her left hand, the gun still nestled in her right palm. “Go!”

He turned the ignition. The engine roared to life and shook. He shifted into drive and slammed his foot down on the gas. Faint shouts erupted behind him. A glance over his shoulder told him the man was still in the jungle.

His body rocked side to side as the jeep bumped over the uneven terrain. A bend in the road was coming up . . .

Shouts ripped through the air behind them. Dallas glanced over his shoulder again to see the man running down the road behind them, lifting his gun.

“Stay down!” Dallas yelled, as he ducked.

Bullets pelted the jeep. Gemma let out a scream as he rounded the bend. The pinging of metal on metal ceased.

“We’re out of sight,” he said to Gemma, calling over the drone of the motor.

She lifted her head a few inches and looked behind them. “He’ll chase us.” Her skin was pale, her eyes wide with fear.

“Yeah, but we’ll lose him soon.”

He rounded another bend. The more distance he put between the shooter and them, the more the cinching of his chest muscles eased. He lifted his arm and wiped the channel of sweat from his forehead. Placing the large gun on his lap, he relaxed his shoulders.

---