by Nick Thacker
Edgar nodded once again as the sounds of his soldiers outside the vehicle continued firing.
12
Ben
Ben struggled to keep the SUV pointed straight on the dirt road. The ice and snow had crept in from the sides, and he hadn’t plowed in a few days. The SUV kicked and swayed as he pressed the gas pedal down harder.
The call had come in just after Julie had fired her first shots. He pressed a button on the steering wheel to route the call through his car’s Bluetooth speaker system, once again impressed with the new technologies onboard. He hadn’t driven much of anything as an adult besides a beat-up ’86 pickup he’d taken to Yellowstone, so when he’d met Julie and the rest of the CSO team, he’d also met the new era of driving technology.
After the call ended, he looked back at Julie, who had taken a brief break from shooting to hear what Vicente Garza had to say. “He said he’s taking them to Anchorage,” Ben said.
Three shots rang out, but they sailed wide of the SUV since the jeep was hurtling over a few bumps and a curve in the road put a stand of pines between the two vehicles. Furthermore, Ben knew bulletproof material had replaced the windshield glass shortly after the CSO had purchased it.
“It’s a lie,” she said.
“I think so. He’s a professional soldier. He had this all planned out, and he knew we’d follow him out. But…”
“But where’s he going, then?” Julie asked, finishing the sentence for him.
“Exactly.”
“Could be anywhere,” she said. “The Seward runs along the coast, but there aren’t any towns until Wittier down that way.”
“And for all we know, Garza’s got an in with someone at the airport there, too.” He banged a hand on the steering wheel. “Are you sure he’s not going to Anchorage?”
“Of course. He wouldn’t have slipped up. If he said it, it’s because he wanted us to hear it.”
“And he needs us for leverage, so he doesn’t exactly want to kill us, or Reggie or Sarah. So that means he needs to lose us, but not destroy us.”
“Yet.”
“Right. Yet.”
Julie sniffed and then pulled herself back up and out the window just as the last stretch of straightaway came into view. This 300-yard span of dirt road was the best-kept, cleanest patch of Ben’s driveway, and he knew it would be their last chance to get the jeep before they were on the highway. And because of a few well-placed trees and a quick dip before meeting Highway 1, his driveway was all but impossible to see.
And it meant that if they didn’t gain on the jeep before then, Garza could slip away easily and be completely lost to them.
He pressed the gas pedal to the floor, ignoring the signs of ice on the road in front of him. It would be a hell of a trick to get the SUV slowed down fast enough to merge onto the highway, and he was making a risky bet that there wouldn’t be any oncoming traffic in either direction, but it was a risk he felt ready to take.
Garza was in the same position, and a collision at this speed would mean the death of two of his friends. He wasn’t about to let that happen because he feared for his own safety, but knowing Julie was hanging out the window, aiming with an assault rifle with an arm twisted into the seatbelt, was almost enough to change his mind.
Almost.
He gently maneuvered the SUV over a patch of ice on the left side of the road just as the jeep hit the few hundred feet of dip and disappeared. They would come up on the other side, but Ben would be blinded to their location for a few seconds as his vehicle dipped down and out of sight. He intended to be at the other side of the dip and cresting the hill when Garza turned onto the highway — it was the only true way to know which direction he’d head.
He clenched his teeth. The SUV barreled forward, staying true to the road’s layout as it flew over ice, snow, and patches of mud. He forced the wheel in gentle directions to correct course, and just as he began to crest the hill, the jeep appeared again.
“There!” Julie screamed.
“Got it,” he said under his breath. The jeep was moving much faster now, and he could see it was preparing to merge across the highway and head to the left — southeast.
Just the opposite of what Garza had said.
Ben pulled the SUV to the side and told Julie to hang on, but the road was much smoother here and he was able to get the vehicle across the highway and into the right lane, about two-hundred feet from the jeep. There were no other cars on the road, and Ben said a silent prayer in thanks for that.
Julie peppered a round of shots toward the jeep and Ben saw one of the soldiers hanging onto the jeep’s roof reach to his arm. As he did, the jeep hit a patch of ice and had to correct, causing the man to lose his balance and fall to the asphalt. Ben could almost hear the crunch and scraping as the man hit and began tumbling end-over-end down the road.
The SUV moved toward the man at a breakneck speed.
“Got him!” Julie yelled. “You think he’s alive?”
Ben saw the man’s tattered gear, his clothing shredded and his head a bloody mess. He came to a stop in the center of the road, perpendicular to the lane with his chest on the yellow lines. Still, the man moved slightly, pulling his head up and looking up at Ben.
“Yeah,” Ben said. “I think he is.”
He pulled the SUV to the left, ever so slightly, just as the man tried to push up with his hands, obviously anticipating what was about to happen. But Ben’s vehicle was already there, and he felt the punch of the man’s skull blasted into a crater as he made impact.
“Never mind,” he said. “I don’t think he made it.”
Julie didn’t hear him, or she ignored him, as she immediately began firing again.
Ben saw the second soldier on the right side of the vehicle ducking out of the way, trying to put the back of the jeep between himself and Julie’s rifle, but not having much luck. As Ben pressed forward and gained on Garza, his engine much larger than the jeep’s, the man’s backside grew larger.
Julie placed two rounds right into the man, one in the buttocks and another through the spine. The man fell lifeless from the vehicle, bouncing off into the dirt and snowbanks on the side of the road.
“Great shot,” Ben shouted.
“Thanks — one more should get their tire out of commission, and then we can —”
Before she could finish the sentence she yelped. Ben realized he hadn’t been paying attention closely enough, and he’d missed what Garza had thrown out the window.
It was bouncing closer to them, and Ben wasn’t sure what to do. A grenade, no doubt “cooked” to detonate at a particular time, and he knew Garza wouldn’t need more than a few chances to get one to explode right in front — or beneath — them.
He swerved into the left lane, only then noticing that there was a massive eighteen-wheeler bearing down on them from that direction.
He slammed on the brakes just as the grenade exploded.
13
Julie
The grenade’s detonation lifted the SUV’s right side off of its tires. It slid sideways and narrowly missed the eighteen wheeler. Ben saw the driver of the semi-truck yanking his steering wheel hard to the left while the truck’s brakes pressed hard to slow it down. He saw the smoke from the wheels and tires and the snow and dirt kicked up in the air, but the wall of filth that rained down on them from the grenade’s explosion blocked most of his vision.
Pebbles and larger rocks smacked against the bulletproof glass and the side of the frame, and he heard a few bounce into the interior of the vehicle through Julie’s open window. He hoped the explosion hadn’t harmed her. The rocks were followed by another blast of air, a sort of sucking feeling coming over him as the pressure wave pulled more air through the SUV.
The SUV righted itself and the shocks took the brunt of the impact, but Ben’s head smacked against the window as the car rocked side to side. He wondered how Julie was faring, but he couldn’t afford to look. His forearms locked the wheel in place and he
applied pressure to the gas pedal as the trailer of the eighteen-wheeler slid sideways, directly in front of him.
He needed to get out of the way of the massive trailer before it slammed into him — and through him. He didn’t want to get jackknifed beneath the trailer, but he also didn’t want to slam on the brakes and take the chance that the driver of the semi could right his truck in time. He guided the SUV to the left more, now completely off the left side of the road and bouncing over the rocks and debris on the shoulder. A few feet more and he was off the side of the road completely, and the trailer was only a few yards in front of him.
And it was moving quickly.
Ben panicked. He jerked the wheel to the left, not knowing or caring if there was a tree or rock that would be in his way, and simultaneously yanked the handbrake. The SUV jolted, and he felt himself propelled toward the windshield, held in place only by the strength of his seatbelt. The SUV seemed to groan against its own weight as the vehicle changed direction, and Ben held his breath as he watched the trailer bearing down on him.
Come on. He willed the vehicle to move faster, to move out of the way of the ongoing trailer.
It was no help. The trailer continued moving, Ben’s SUV kept turning, and he knew it would be close.
There was a small gap between the two vehicles when Ben’s car came to a stop on a log. He hadn’t seen it, as it had been buried beneath snow, but now his front axle was bottomed-out on top of it, and as hard as he tried, it wouldn’t move.
The remaining five feet between the two vehicles closed to nothing in an instant. He yelled something incoherent just as the trailer filled his vision, still moving brutally fast. It rose up, looming over him, then smashed through the SUV as if it weren’t there.
The body of the front-right corner of the SUV was completely destroyed, but a piece of the metal frame caught on the edge of the trailer and was pulled along with it as the trailer moved back onto the highway. The SUV spun around, now being pulled the opposite direction.
Ben’s head whipped around again, once again smashing into the window, and he cried out in pain. His body felt like a rag doll, and he expected the seatbelt to rip free of its enclosure at any moment. He tried to brace himself for whatever impact may come or whichever direction he might find himself pulled in, but he had no control, and his body and the hard surfaces inside the SUV reminded him of that.
He ping-ponged off the console, his hip cracking against the seatbelt clasp, then his shoulder crushing against the seatbelt clasp on the opposite side. Somehow the airbags didn’t deploy, but he wasn’t sure it would have been more or less helpful if they had.
The SUV bounced and hiccuped a few more times before it detached from the trailer. It had dragged them back onto the highway, but the SUV was leaning precariously to the right side, and he knew that a tie rod and probably two or three wheels had been completely snapped. The vehicle seemed to slouch, to dip into the ground on the right side, and as it came to a complete stop, he could smell antifreeze and gasoline, and wondered if there were any open flames nearby.
Then, as if his mind were on autopilot, he felt the sense of impending doom.
Get Julie.
He forced himself into action, fighting against the unbelievable pain in his side. He must have broken or significantly bruised a rib or two, but it was hardly the only pain he was feeling. His neck felt stiff, as if it was one good crack from falling apart completely, and his shoulder felt like it had had a nail driven through it.
He knew there was no way Julie would have been able to hold on throughout the madness. He unbuckled his seatbelt, forcing himself to breathe slowly, purposefully. He turned and looked into the back seat.
Julie was gone.
No…
He shouted her name. “Julie!”
He threw the door open and fell out, coughing as he hit the hard, rock-strewn asphalt beneath the snow. It felt cold, in a satisfying and terrifying way, as if he wanted to lie down there forever and just die. He knew it wouldn’t be hard to do, the way he was feeling, but he also knew that he needed to just get up and shake it off. He wasn’t any more injured than he’d been in the past, and his friends were still gone — they needed him to be okay.
“Julie,” he said again.
“Ben?”
It was a whisper, or it was a shout, he wasn’t sure. His ears were ringing. Probably from when I smacked my head, he thought. Am I even thinking clearly?
“Ben,” she said again, this time louder. No. She’s here. He opened his eyes, not realizing they had been closed, and looked up. The sting of the sunny morning hit him first, burning through his retinas. He closed them again, took a deep breath — as deep as his side would allow — and opened his eyes again.
“Julie,” he said. “That you?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Bruised my arm pretty bad, and I feel like I’ve got a punctured lung, but since I’m talking, I must be okay.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not sure I fared as well.”
She frowned. “Really? You look fine to me.”
He groaned. “Why can’t you just leave me alone to die? Start throwing snow on top of me and just leave me be?”
“Because,” she said. “You do most of the cooking. And I like to eat.”
He smiled, against his better judgement. Somehow, that hurt too. “Fine,” he said. “Help me up.”
14
Reggie
Reggie felt the crushing pain of his own bodyweight against the zip ties. His hands were numb, long since having lost the circulation from the rest of his body, and he felt like he’d rather cut them off.
Sarah seemed fine. Well, he thought, as “fine” as you can be while being kidnapped.
The jeep hadn’t deviated from its course. They were heading south on the Seward Highway, the open water of the Turnagain Arm on the right side of the vehicle. Garza and his driver hadn’t spoken a word to each other after their encounter with Ben and Julie, and that encounter had ended with their vehicle being blown to bits and then run over by an eighteen-wheeler.
Reggie had seen Ben and Julie survive against narrow odds, but he’d never seen anything like that. Ben’s black SUV had disappeared behind the larger semi truck as it swerved out of the way, but he saw the explosion launch the SUV sideways and into the ditch on the side of the road — right in line with where the semi’s trailer was about to be.
He had turned away just before the collision, but he’d heard it. The grinding, twisting rip of metal-on-metal told him everything he needed to know.
If they weren’t dead, they’d be close to it, unless Ben had performed some miracle behind the wheel.
Sarah hadn’t watched. Her eyes had remained riveted onto the back of the driver’s head as they traveled on, and Reggie wondered what she was thinking. Was she trying to decide how to escape? Did she even care about escaping? Was she waiting for me to act?
He couldn’t tell. Everything he knew about her told him that the last thing she’d do was wait to be rescued. She was terrible at playing the “damsel in distress” role, and he didn’t blame her. He liked to keep things in control as much as possible, and he absolutely hated being out of control. The problem was that he had nothing to work with here. He had been completely taken out of commission, even his trusty switchblade pocketknife removed from his person when he’d been moved to the car.
But this car ride wouldn’t last forever. Garza was taking them somewhere, and unless he had a way to knock them out again, he’d have a moment — a brief instant — to act. For an over-six-foot frame like his, getting in and out of a jeep was a feat in and of itself, not considering trying to do it while his hands were tied.
He’d have a few seconds, he guessed, when his kidnappers would try to yank him out of the car. A few seconds to smack his hands against his lower back as hard as he could, snapping the zip tie apart. He’d taught that very lesson for years in Brazil. “Urban escape,” he called it. Zip ties were effective at resisting indirect force — twisti
ng, rubbing, and tearing were almost entirely ineffective at breaking the ties. But direct force, such as that caused by snapping the wrists apart from one another, often did the trick.
He’d have to cause a distraction to pull it off — and then he’d have to figure out what to do once he’d broken free of his ties. Sarah would still need help, and Vicente Garza was a formidable opponent.
He spent the rest of the car ride considering these obstacles, trying to decide on a course of action.
The drive ended fifteen minutes later, and as the jeep pulled off the side of the highway and began heading inland, he tried to find any markers or signs that would identify their location. The road was bare, but it was a road — not a dirt path like the driveway to Ben’s cabin and the CSO headquarters — and it was in good shape, which meant there was a chance they’d come across a town, or at least another human.
He wasn’t sure there’d be anything he could do in that case, but it might help him get his bearings.
Unfortunately, the jeep turned off this road and turned north, less than a mile after they’d exited the highway. They drove along a beaten, worn path, only as far as it took to get out of sight from the access road. The pines quickly grew inward toward one another and covered their tracks, eventually creating a thick wall of green, impenetrable and invisible.
Reggie began to think they would be brought to a secure location near Ben’s cabin — after all, they were only an hour’s drive south of his land. But as close as they may have been, it would be impossible for Ben and Julie to find them out here. The backcountry of Alaska, Reggie had learned, was as impossible as it was beautiful. The trees could hide just about anything, and when he considered how remote most of the state was, as well as its sheer size, he realized it wouldn’t matter if they were one mile or a thousand miles away from Ben — out here, they were as good as gone.
