Page 55 of Crimson Storm

Though it had been cut since I’d left my Amish community, it was still quite long, adhering to the style of Amish women.

The agent’s sigh of relief was audible. I wasn’t blonde. The problem was, Kelly was feet away from him, and I suspected she was aperfectmatch to the description he and all the state border agents had been given.

“Thank you, ma’am. You can put that back on,” Agent Eggleston said. “I just need to do a temp check on all of you, and then you can be on your way. It’ll just take a sec.”

“Must you wake my sisters?” Shane asked. He was beginning to panic. I could hear his heart pounding.

“It’ll just take a sec,” the agent repeated.

I had to do something. If he wanded all of us and discovered three out of the four “Amish siblings” in the buggy were vampires, the ruse would be up. He’d detain us for sure, and it would take only a quick internet search to match Kelly, Heather, and me to our mug shots.

We’d be sent back to prison—or more likely executed—for “murdering” a guard.

Not for the first time, I wished I really did have the power to mesmerize a human. It would have come in very handy.

As it was, I’d have to rely on my wits.

“That is not our way, sir.” I kept my eyes down but spoke loudly and clearly. “Your modern technology is against our beliefs.”

“I’m afraid it isourway ma’am. And if you want to enjoy our ‘modern’ highways, you have to abide by the law of the land,” he said.

I nodded. “I understand.”

We were going to have to take him out, overpower him and lock him up without his radio so he couldn’t call for backup—unless he’d done that already with that 9-8-6 code.

The other option was to abandon the buggy—and Shane—and make a run for it. We wereso closeto the Bastion now. We simply couldn’t allow ourselves to be captured after making it this far.

But how could I leave Shane? I’d promised to help him find his parents. Worse, he might be in legal trouble for traveling with us. He’d have a hard time claiming he’d been kidnapped and forced now that he’d lied to the agent.

The man held his electronic thermometer to Shane’s forehead, and it beeped. I could tell from the agent’s low grunt he was satisfied with the readout. It was my turn.

Slowly I turned toward him. My eyes were shaded by the bonnet, but it didn’t matter now if he saw their color. The second he read my temperature he’d know I wasn’t human.

When he extended the wand toward me, I grabbed his wrist and sprang from the buggy, pulling his arm around behind his back.

“Hey,” he yelled. “You can’t do that. I’m an officer of the law.”

“I’m sorry. We’re not going to hurt you,” I said as I reached for his other wrist. But it was too late. He’d already gotten a hand on his gun.

Drawing it, he raised the weapon over his head, angling it down behind his back toward me and pulling the trigger. Red-hot pain sliced through my left thigh. A couple feet higher and the platinum bullet would have pierced my heart, ending my life.

The heat at the entry wound morphed to aching cold, which was spreading rapidly down toward my knee and up toward my hip. I couldn’t let the agent get off another round, but it was impossible to stay on my feet.

As I fell, I grabbed for his gun hand, but he spun away, turning to face me with his weapon aimed at my chest.

He spoke into the radio clipped to his collar, calling for backup and describing us and our vehicle.

I lifted a hand toward him. “Please. We’re not dangerous. Just let my friends go.”

“Shut up,” he ordered. “Don’t move an inch. Iwillshoot you through the heart.”

“Abigail!” Shane yelled.

I darted at glance at him standing horror-struck in the buggy’s open front. “No! Stay back. You’ll get hurt.”

He didn’t listen to me. Leaping from the buggy, Shane landed on the agent’s back, knocking him to the ground where the two of them rolled and grappled for control of the agent’s weapon.

It fired again, a loud crack that echoed for several seconds.

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