Page 146 of Hell and High Water

“Shit! What did I just say?”

“Play chicken?”

“NO!”

“I’m fairly sure that’s what you said.”

The engine roars as she stomps on the pedal, and my stomach drops. Everything inside me wants to scream, but I can’t breathe. The beat-up truck bristling with gunmen hurtles toward us at top speed.

The only saving grace is that they are going too fast to aim.

Bullets scream by outside, and Gavin returns fire, leaning out the window.

“I hate this!”

“But you’re so good at it!” she bellows, firing off a few shots out the window.

Each one of their shots takes out a gunner in the back, eliminating the barrage of bullet rain. But the driver grins, yelling silently at us as we rocket down the single lane road.

At the last possible second, Alaya yanks the hand brake, jerking the wheel. The truck veers at the same time, forced out toward the drop. Time slows down.

A collective scream fills the car as the Jeep hits the rocky slope on the other side and lifts, our wheels skidding, lurching us up vertically, looking almost down on the truck. All I can see are the wide-eyed stares of Marco’s men as we practically wall grind along above them.

Alaya looks over, mid-tumble, and shouts, “NOW!”

Gavin and Alaya unload on the truck, taking out the tires.

I don’t have time to even process the horror of the truck’s sudden spin, flipping the vehicle over once before sending it over the edge of the mountainside. That so easily could have been us.

The world rights itself as Alaya spins the wheel and rides out the skid back onto the road, bouncing to a halt.

Looking over at Evan, I see how pale he looks.

It takes everything to keep from opening the door and puking.

Thankfully, the rest of the drive is uneventful. Gavin looks furious, but he keeps his tirade to himself, which only has Alaya bobbing in her seat.

Once we hit the industrial park, things are quiet.

Burned out cars and businesses line the road, but not a soul is in sight. A palpable hush blankets the area, like the thin veil of smoke hanging in the air.

My hand finds Evan’s unconsciously, gripping tightly.

Tell might be here among the scattered bodies we see every now and then. We can’t spare the time to check every one of them for Tell. We need to start where we know he was last. So, all I can do is swallow my terror and worry.

“He’s not answering.” Gavin slams his phone down.

“Not that surprising. Marco knocked out a few cell towers,” Evan responds, careful with his tone.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around it. Just get us there.” I don’t bother controlling the chill in my own voice.

It’s only a few more blocks, but the last bit takes forever. Alaya has to navigate around fallen street signs, entire chunks of buildings. This area got hit hard.

“The Ghosts must have put up one hell of a fight.”

“You can say that again…” Alaya mutters in awe as Devonde’s office appears through the haze around the corner.

The building is a shell, blackened and crumbling in places. Fires still crackle here and there in a few windows, but the structure appears more or less stable. Alaya pulls us up as close as she can get before we exit the car, all of us on high alert for any sign of movement.

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