Page 67 of High Intensity

My reaction is instantaneous; my eyes dart to the rearview mirror, and I brace my arm in front of Jillian, even as my foot slams on the brakes.

It takes me a moment to realize my mistake, but by then a dark SUV, similar to the Yukon, has blocked exit from my driver’s side door. In the ambient glow of my headlights, I can just catch the reflection of a gun barrel aimed at the Yukon.

That was obviously not a deer or an elk that hit us.

“Get down,” I manage to bark at Jillian, who is leaning over the back of her seat to check on the dogs, as I pull my gun from my hip holster.

I’m about to cover her with my body, when the passenger-side door is ripped open. I don’t think, I react and take aim at the dark figure—face hidden behind a balaclava—who reaches into the vehicle.

The gunshot is loud in the confined space. So loud I don’t even hear the second shot, I only feel the thud of the impact. I watch the figure crumple right outside the SUV and throw myself sideways across the center console. I’m trying to reach the passenger door, but Jillian beats me to it, pulling it shut and quickly locking it before ducking down again.

“Peanut, Nugget, stay down,” she yells at her dogs.

I lean over to cover as much of Jillian as I can, while still able to monitor the threat coming from my side.

My gun is aimed at where the window in the driver’s side door used to be.

“Are you okay?” I ask Jillian.

“I think so. You?”

I’m about to answer when the inside of the Yukon is suddenly lit up by headlights approaching us from behind. At the same time, I hear the revving of an engine and catch a glimpse of the dark SUV’s roof as it pulls ahead and speeds off.

I cautiously sit up when the familiar face of Ira Nelson, a mechanic who works for Sully’s wife Pippa at the Pit Stop, appears beside my door. The dogs both start barking in the back.

“You folks all right in here?”

I turn to Jillian. “Call 911 and stay put, I’m gonna check on the other guy.”

Then I push the door open and ask Ira, “Got a gun on you?”

He pats his side.

“Never leave home without it.”

“Good,” I mumble, motioning for him to follow me.

I have no idea if the guy I hit went down permanently or is still alive, or perhaps even hiding in the bushes on the other side of the ditch. There’d been too many moving parts for me to keep my eye on the guy after I saw him go down.

So I move slowly as I round the hood of the Yukon, using the SUV as cover for as long as possible. I can feel Ira behind me, who seems to take his cues from me and is taking things seriously. When I carefully poke my head around the side, I immediately see the guy hasn’t moved from where he fell.

A gun is visible only inches from his hand, and the first thing I do is kick it out of his reach. Then, with my weapon trained on him, I go down on a knee and feel for a pulse. It’s faint. The bullet hit him mid-torso and he’s losing a lot of blood.

“Jillian?” I call out.

She immediately opens her door and catches sight of the injured man. She has her phone pressed to her ear.

“Oh shit,” she mumbles. “Is he dead?”

“Not yet.”

“We’re going to need an ambulance too,” she relays to whomever is on the other side.

Then she catches sight of me and shock washes over her face.

“Make that two ambulances.”

Twenty

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