Page 33 of Shadow Target

“Yes, but I guess I’m scared and hurtling forward like a loose cannon of sorts,” and he grinned belatedly.

“Usually, I’m the one going Mach 3 with my hair on fire,” she admitted sourly, absorbing the surprising changes she was seeing in him.

“And usually? I’m the stick-in-the-mud having to be dragged forward by you.”

“Is there a middle ground?” Willow wondered aloud.

Shep held her gaze and said, “Don’t you think we’re finding that middle ground right now? That gives me hope.”

She thought a moment, his honesty breathing new life into what she thought was a lost cause, then replied, “Okay… I can’t disagree with us both working toward the middle. I can’t handle anything else right now. My focus is on my job and meeting the construction schedule. I think our personal lives have to remain just that: secondary to the demands on us right now.”

Nodding, Shep replied, “We just need to talk, Willow. And talk until we both understand what the other wants. I know we can do this…”

Suddenly, popping sounds erupted around them. Willow froze for a second. Bark by her head splintered, exploding outward. Shep was on his feet in an instant, drawing his weapon as he turned, placing himself between the barrage of bullets and where Willow sat against the tree.

CHAPTER 10

Willow snapped out of their warm zone together, leaping to her feet. Unlike Shep who always wore his pistol holstered on his hip, hers was in her knapsack. Bullets were snapping and popping all around them, coming from one direction. What the hell! She had no time, but her mind moved into threat-action mode. Shep was her shield as she scrambled to her feet. The roar of his .45 shook the area. Who was their enemy? All she could see was the winking of rifles being fired from down below the hill, up at them.

Escape!

Grabbing her knapsack, she yelled over the roar, “Shep! This way!” and she hauled the bag onto her shoulders, grabbing at his arm to get his attention. She’d never seen him in battle mode before, but the deadly intensity, the focus in his narrowed eyes, told her he was no stranger to this kind of situation. She gripped him, practically yanking him around before he heard her.

“This way!” she yelled.

He nodded, turned, and followed her as she ran down over the other side of the hill, escaping the barrage of bullets.

Stunned by the unexpected attack, Willow slipped and slid between the many trees that covered the entire area for as far as the eye could see. The leaves were many, dry and slippery. Shep caught up with her, still hanging behind, protecting her back. The shooting behind them stopped abruptly.

“Hurry!” she gasped as he ran on behind, off her left shoulder.

“Where are we going?” he demanded.

“The river! It’s half a mile. There’s nowhere to hide here,” she gasped, slipping, and moving around the low tuffs of grass scattered with four-foot walls of reeds. Now, they were on flat ground and off the sloped hill. She dug in her boots, lunging ahead, running as fast as she could. Shep’s footfalls right behind her gave her a welcome but false sense of safety. Somewhere in her racing mind, she realized he had put himself between her and the threat. He was prepared to die for her. Choking up, Willow knew she couldn’t go there. Not now. Whoever was after them? That enemy was trying to kill them.

They ran hard, dodging between trees. Willow could smell the river up ahead, although she still couldn’t spot it. After another quarter mile, they might. She was gasping, her lungs burning as she continued the brutal pace. Finally, she saw Shep running at her shoulder. He had his .45 in hand, looking around, on guard, not taking their apparent safety for granted.

“Who the hell is doing this?” she demanded in gasps.

“My bet is that it’s David and his soldiers.”

She gasped in surprise, terror lunging through her as she ducked, dodging under a limb, straightening, trying to keep her feet beneath her. The leaves were ankle-deep everywhere and slippery. Even worse, she couldn’t spot fallen limbs or rocks hiding beneath them. “Why?”

Shep moved easily at her side, his head swiveling, always looking around them as they ran. “Either they want to kill us, or capture and kidnap us. I don’t have a clue as to why. The river? Are we jumping into it? Swimming to the other side of it?”

“The river leads us back toward Lake Tana. It’s only about three-quarters of a mile to the lake. Where is our boat tied up? That’s where the attack came from. We can’t go there.” She gestured through the thick woodlands. “It’s about a quarter mile ahead of us. We’re going to jump in, swim across it to the other bank. I’m hoping whoever is after us. They won’t see us. I’m hoping we’ve gained enough of a lead that, by the time they get to where we are now, we’ll have disappeared. They may not realize we jumped into the river. It’s only about a hundred feet wide and about thirty feet deep. The current is strong, but we can swim and keep alongside the opposite bank. Then, disappear into the jungle and head for the highway, which is about three miles away.”

Shep nodded. He twisted around, looking behind him. “You’re right, we’ve been cut off from the boat. There’s no way we can get back to it.”

Willow was winded. Her calf muscles were burning with protest. Shep continued to protect her with his body, always alert. They didn’t have time to get her .45 out of her knapsack. Luckily for her, the fabric was waterproof. The pistol would remain dry and usable. Her mind spun. Was Tefere David targeting them? She’d seen at least ten rifles winking up at them from the base of the hill. Most of the bullets had been aimed at Shep, but they’d been lousy shooters, all missing him. The soil had spat up around him in dirty geysers as he’d moved in front of her, firing back, protecting her as she’d scrambled to her feet.

If it was David? Her mind cranked over possibilities of why they had been attacked. None of the reasons were good. They all made her stomach twist in raw fear. She raced on, scared more than she’d ever been as a combat pilot back in Afghanistan. If either of them was captured? It would be a horrifying nightmare. David was known for sex trafficking, but she also knew him as a regional player in northern Ethiopia: he captured Christians, regardless of nationality or skin color, and beheaded them on the internet.

Oh, no… The terror she felt over possible capture increased her speed. Her calves screamed in protest. Her lungs burned with each hard ragged breath. Up ahead, she saw the flat green river.

“Any crocs in this river?” Shep demanded, breathing hard.

“No. No crocs in river or lake.” Thank God.

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