Page 29 of Not This Place

She had to reach the sniper’s perch, but they were pinned down. She cursed, glancing one way, then the other.

Her own rifle. In the back of their burning car. It was in the trunk. The flames were thickest on the driver’s side.

Maybe she could reach it.

“Ethan, cover me!” she shouted.

And she broke into a sprint.

CHAPTER NINE

She raced, under gunfire, towards the trunk of their burning vehicle, hoping upon hope the rifle would be unscathed by the blasts.

The steering wheel and front driver’s side clearly wasn’t so lucky:

melted and charred, it was now little more than a molten lump of plastic and metal.

Her boots pounded the asphalt as she darted toward the burning vehicle. The flames threw long, writhing shadows onto the street, illuminating her path in a harsh, flickering light. Ethan made good on his promise, providing cover fire as best he could with his injured shoulder. Bullets whizzed past her, kicking up bits of gravel that stung against her exposed skin.

Rachel reached the car and skidded to a halt at the trunk. Heat surged off the metal body of the car, scalding her palms as she fumbled for the latch. Her fingers found it and, with a grunt of effort, she hauled open the trunk.

Except it didn’t open.

Was it melted shut?

No. Shit. Locked.

"Ethan!" she screamed. "Key!"

Would the Bluetooth lock still work? Half the car was charred. Ethan spotted her, fumbling into his pocket to push the button.

The trunk popped open, the lock releasing with a hollow click. Relief swept over her in a cold rush that drowned out the raging inferno around her for a brief moment.

Bullets plowed into the car beside her, metal whining in protest as it was pierced through.

She heard a shout from Ethan's direction and glanced over to see him pointing towards the rooftop.

The sniper - he had shifted positions while they were distracted. She could just make out his silhouette against the dark sky, hunkered down behind an air conditioning unit.

"Distract him," she shouted at Ethan without looking at him.

He nodded and fired off couple of rounds towards the rooftop but she could tell his aim was off at this distance. Not that it mattered; they only needed to keep the shooter occupied.

Danvers had clearly been telling the truth. Someone had shot at her. And now they’d returned to finish the job.

Smoke billowed out in a thick cloud, momentarily blinding her. Eyes watering, Rachel reached into the smoky interior and grabbed her rifle case. She recoiled as heat seared her hand through the fabric handle but held on tight. It was hot, not searing.

Pulling the case free from the inferno, she retreated to a safer distance before flipping it open to reveal her scoped rifle. She expertly checked it over before slapping in a clip and racking the bolt.

With one last glance at Ethan--who was pressed against their makeshift barricade, firing sporadically while Alice and her bodyguards hunkered down behind another car--she took off again.

This time, she skirted around the edge of the parking lot, using parked cars and sparse shrubbery as cover. The muzzle flashes from Ethan's gun lit up his position like intermittent fireworks – attention-grabbing and dangerous. His diversion afforded Rachel enough cover to reach an alleyway bracketing the neighboring motel building.

She clambered up the fire escape. Moving fast.

She hit the roof, going prone, rifle in hand. Memories surged. A large grizzly on the horizon, growling where it stood over a mountaineer. She’d been called in by chopper to help with the search and rescue.

But that grizzly—one of the largest she’d ever seen.

---