Page 41 of The Knight

“Your arm?—”

“Go.” His face was ashen, but the single syllable cracked in the confined space.

Freya slammed the car into gear just as a man burst from behind a rocky outcrop, weapon raised.

She floored it.

The windshield exploded, showering her with a deadly hail of glass. Her foot already mashed to the floor, she locked her arms, white-knuckled the wheel. She swerved, the SUV lurching around the gunman.

In her peripheral vision, Abe’s door flew open. Two sharp cracks split the air as he returned fire. Their pursuer crumpled.

Hell. Hell. Hell.

She yanked the steering wheel hard, fishtailing onto the rough track leading to the highway. Emotion threatened to overwhelm her, making it difficult to keep the vehicle straight. The rear wheels spun, kicking up gravel as they fought for traction on the uneven ground.

Headlights blazed to life in her rear-view mirror.They’re coming after us.

The pedal was on the floor but she pressed harder as if by sheer will she could make the SUV speed up.

The hill summit drew closer.

Almost there.

A low-frequency hum filled the air, making her teeth ache. A heartbeat later, an invisible force pulsed through the air—a shockwave slamming into the SUV’s frame, sending bone-deep vibrations through her body.

“What the hell’s that?” Abe twisted in his seat, his face illuminated by an eerie, blue-white flash from the horizon.

“EMP charge.” Freya recognized the telltale signs. “Asta set it off.”

In her wing mirrors, the headlights of their pursuers blinked out simultaneously, leaving only a pale-gray dawn behind them.

Freya’s pulse raced, but the SUV kept running.Adjustment.Asta must have rigged something to shield it. Freya slowed, gripping the wheel with bloodless knuckles, the gravity of Asta’s sacrifice hitting her like a physical blow. “We should go back. Help Asta.”

“We can’t,” Abe’s voice was bound by restrained emotion. “She did this so we could move forward.”

“She’s alone.” The words caught in her throat like thorns.

“I know.” His response was barely audible over the screaming engine.

They reached the blacktop, the transition from gravel to smooth asphalt jarring under the tires. Freya hooked a lefttoward the coast, the engine roaring as she pushed it to its limits. The speedometer swung upward, passing the seventy kph mark as they flew by a weathered speed sign.

Dark clouds swallowed the road behind her.

The speedometer crept up. Sixty, seventy, eighty kilometers per hour.

“Freya, you can ease off now.” A large hand covered hers on the wheel, but fury and fear made her ignore it. “Freya.”

This time, his voice penetrated the fog.Abe.

Reality rushed in. The engine screamed, the SUV threatening to tear itself apart. She lifted her foot from the gas, braking hard. The vehicle skidded to a sudden stop at the roadside, tires screeching in protest.

Freya killed the engine. Her breath was ragged, tears spilling down her cheeks. Fumbling in her pocket for a tissue, she wiped at her eyes, angry at her own weakness. Emotions were a liability, a sign of losing control.

Like my mother.

“Freya—” Abe reached for her, but she recoiled at the sight of blood on his hand, wet and glistening in the harsh dashboard light.

My fault.

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