Page 44 of Surge of Fire

“We need to get to the safety of that town. Now.” He slips my phone into one of the pockets of his vest, then spins around and heads for the truck.

I sprint ahead of him and slip back into the driver’s seat, slamming the door right before he reaches it, and lock the lock. He gives me a look, knocks on the window, and then when I ignore him, circles around and climbs into the passenger seat. Before he even closes his door, I put it in drive and take off.

He slams the door. “You know it’d be smart to have the trained military officer driving, right?”

“For who?” I ask.

“For both of us,” he responds without hesitation.

I shake my head. “No. Contrary to popular belief, it is not a good idea to let a strange man drive you wherever the hell he wants.”

“We’re going to town. We both have the same goal. You’re being illogical and stubborn.”

Letting my gaze flick away from the road for the briefest moment, I say, “I’m concentrating. Do you think you can stop with the yappity yap? You’re worse than Boba Fett.”

His mouth pulls into a thin line.

Silence descends between us. My hands are clenched on the steering wheel. There are abandoned vehicles every so often, and the evidence of frequent accidents. Whether it’s due to the earthquake or the dragon, I don’t know.

“The dragon is keeping close. You better hope he hasn’t scented you.”

“I can see why you have a position of authority. You say so many helpful things. You really know how to keep a person calm. You're so good at it, you should be called Captain Xanax,” I say, sarcasm dripping from every word.

He seems to ponder that for a minute. “Sorry if you don’t strike me as a wilting flower.”

Is that supposed to be a compliment?

The shadow crosses over us again, and this time the vehicle seems to sway under the force of the dragon’s powerful wings. My pulse races in my ears, and I get the terrible sense that the dragon is about to perch on our truck, or maybe just rip the top of our vehicle right off. I hate that I’m not entirely sure what the fuck its planning.

Suddenly, there’s a loud crashing sound, and I crane my head to see that something has exploded on the side of the mountain above us. Rocks are tumbling down, and my heart seizes as I push the gas pedal all the way down and start flying around the twisting, dangerous mountain road, praying there’s no debris ahead of us.

“Jets!” Evander says.

“Jets?” I shout back.

“Yeah, they’re firing at the dragon.”

As if to confirm it, we hear the roar of the beast, shaking the very air around us, and then I see them, two jets squaring off with the dragon.Hell. This is not where we want to be. In the middle of their fight. But I can’t safely go any faster.

Fuck. I’m not being very safe right now, even.

The truck skids as I round another corner, but only for a second before we keep going. I decrease my speed by a drop when flames go roaring overhead, slamming into the jet. It maneuvers out of the line of fire, disappearing into the clouds, but I know things aren’t over yet.

“Just stay focused. Slow when you round the corners. I’ll focus on them. You focus on the road.”

I snort.

“What?”

“It’s just, I’d have to trust you to listen to that dribble, and I don’t.”

“I’m military personnel who has been in countless dangerous situations. You should trust me.”

My mind starts working, even while my focus remains on the road. “Then tell me more about Specter Inc.”

He’s silent.

“So I can trust you, huh?”

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