by JB Lynn
"I've been practicing my deep breathing exercises." I squinted at my would-be weapon through the shadows.
"Who sent you?" another man asked.
I looked up at the intimidating man bearing down on me. I knew, from the deadly glint in his dark eyes that he was Seamus O’Hara. Piranha Man!
I couldn’t have answered him even if I’d wanted to because my heartbeat stuttered and my lungs forgot to work when in the presence of such evil.
"Go tell the boys it’s time," Seamus ordered Jimmy.
Jimmy cast me a look that might have been pity before turning on his heel and hurrying off into the shadows.
"I’m only going to ask you this one more time," Seamus said, moving closer. "Who sent you?"
"Sent me?" I squeaked. I scrambled backward, as though I was afraid of him, which I was, but it wasn’t why I moved away from him. I was maneuvering myself to grab the pitchfork.
"Lady," Seamus pulled a switchblade out of his back pocket. The click the blade made as he snapped it open sliced at my soul. "Tell me who sent you before I have to hurt you." He raised the knife toward my face.
I gulped, curling my fingers around the splintered handle. "I'm a friend of Armani's."
"The crazy chick?"
I nodded.
"You're not a cop?"
"I work at an insurance company."
He lowered the knife slightly. "Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"And you managed to find us?"
"I'm resourceful." I tightened all my muscles, prepared to strike.
He chuckled. "You're dead is what you are."
I swung the pitchfork upward, catching him off-guard, but not doing any real damage. He stumbled back, deflecting the blow with his arm. Before I could hit him again, he’d grabbed the farm tool and yanked it from my grip.
"You’re going to pay for that, you stupid bitch."
"Now!" God thundered.
Out of nowhere a blur of fur attacked Seamus. He fell to the ground, screaming like an over-tired toddler, trying to cover his face as DeeDee sank her teeth into his arm. In the struggle, he dropped the knife and pitchfork, both of which I quickly scooped up out of the dirt.
"Stop, DeeDee," I ordered. "Let him go."
She released his arm, but stood over him, snarling, "No Maggie kill. No Maggie kill."
"Please," Seamus begged. Not such a big shot when faced with the deadly teeth of another animal.
Leaving DeeDee to keep him occupied, I leaned the pitchfork against the wall and fumbled with the latch of the door of the building. Finally, it swung open. "C'mon," I urged the captives. "Let's get out of here."
"Told ya so," Armani crowed as the three of them rushed out of the building.
Brandishing the knife at Seamus, I ordered, "Inside, and if you even think about trying anything, the dog will rip you apart limb from limb."
"Limb-limb," the Doberman growled in agreement, teeth flashing.
"You know what I’m going to do to you, Lucky," Seamus threatened, moving to stand.
"Crawl," I ordered, figuring keeping him on the ground gave the dog an advantage.
"You’re not going to get out of here. My men will hunt you down like animals."
"Crawl inside," I ordered forcefully despite the fact every cell in my body was vibrating with fear.
Seamus did as told while his former captives looked on. As soon as he was inside, I waved DeeDee off and kicked Jimmy in the butt, sending him sprawling headfirst onto the floor. Slamming the door shut, I locked him inside. "Okay, let's get out of here."
"How?" Armani asked.
"Way this," DeeDee yipped bounding away.
"Don't you dare forget me again," God demanded imperiously.
"Where are you?" I asked, looking down at the ground in the direction of his voice.
"Where's who?" Joy asked worriedly.
"Here," the lizard directed. "On this pile of rocks."
I bent over and extended my hand so he could clamber up.
"We've got to get out of here," Joy reminded me worriedly.
I ignored her and asked the lizard, "How'd you get through the fence?"
"Is she talking to an imaginary friend?" the cop asked the psychic.
"God works in mysterious ways," Armani replied.
"The beast jumped over it."
I moaned. "But it must be eight feet high."
"There are times when she's impressive," the lizard admitted grudgingly.
"Well how are we supposed to get out of here?" I asked.
"I suggest driving."
"Driving?"
"There's a pick-up truck behind the other building."
"Driving is a great idea," Armani interjected, despite the fact she could only hear my half of the conversation.
"Fine," I muttered. "We're driving out of here." I marched toward the building
"Where is she going?" Joy asked as Armani began limping behind me.
"I don't know."
"I don't like this," Joy said.
"I foresaw her rescuing us, if this is the way she does it, I'm going along for the ride," Armani replied calmly. "Never doubt the gift."
"But she was talking to herself," Joy reminded her.
I glanced back at them. "She can hear you," I reminded her.
"Ignore her, chiquita." Armani waved me onward with her good hand. "I know you know what you're doing."
I swallowed the incredulous laugh that almost burst out of me. Jack had been right. I should have left this whole rescuing thing to the professionals.
"Do I know you?" Lucky asked, running up beside me.
He'd been so quiet I'd forgotten he was even part of this great escape of ours.
I shook my head, afraid he'd recognize my voice. I just hoped the shadows would obscure my face enough to prevent him from connecting Armani's friend Maggie to the identity I'd assumed when I'd robbed him in Atlantic City.
"It's him," God shrieked. "The one who tried to drown me. My would-be murderer."
I slapped at my shoulder where God balanced like a surfer riding a wave, silently warning him to be quiet.
In Lucky's defense, he didn't intentionally try to kill the lizard. It just kind of happened when Patrick, disguised as a homeless man, had mugged him... It's a long story.
We followed DeeDee around the building and there, just as God had predicted, was a pick-up truck.
"See?" Armani practically squealed. "She knows what she's doing."
I yanked open the door and jumped into the driver's seat. "Please let the keys be here. Please. Please." They weren't in the ignition. I tried the trick that always works on TV of checking behind the sun visor, but they didn't fall into my lap. So much for the escape plan.
"I can hotwire it," Lucky said.
I jumped out to let him in to do his thing. While he worked, I led Armani to the passenger seat. "Who is this guy?" I whispered. Thinking that if, by some miracle we did survive, it would make sense to pretend I didn’t know our passenger. "Should we trust him?"
"He knows Joy."
I looked to Joy for confirmation. The last time I'd seen her and Lucky together, I'd done everything in my power to stop him from turning her into a criminal.
The engine roared to life.
"In. In." I practically shoved Armani into the passenger seat as not-too-distant shouts filled the air.
"Get in the back," Lucky ordered, glancing nervously in the rearview mirror as Jimmy, Bubba, and Buster, brandishing guns, emerged from the building.
Joy and I scrambled up into the open bed of the back of the truck, which was filled with straw.
"Stop!" a man shouted.
"C'mon, DeeDee," I urged. "Jump in."
Before she could, the truck lurched forward.
Slipping on the straw underfoot, I fell to my knees.
And then there were gunshots.
"Run, DeeDee!" God bellowed as men shouted, shots rang out, and Lucky gunned the pick-up’s motor.
The dog didn't
hesitate. One moment she was standing there looking vaguely confused, the next she was a black streak, putting as much distance as she could between her and the gunfire.
The truck too picked up speed, bumping along so hard that Joy started to slide toward the still-open truck bed's entrance. Afraid she would fall out, I grabbed her arm and wedged my foot against the wheel well to brace against momentum and gravity. A move that worked pretty well until Lucky suddenly slammed on the brakes while facing downhill, which resulted in Joy and I sliding in the other direction and being slammed against the rear of the truck's cab.
The breath knocked out of me, and my head spinning from the impact, I lay there, stunned. It took a moment for me to figure out that the high-pitched alarm I heard was actually Armani screaming.
"Drive through it," my usually cool friend shrieked hysterically.
"I can't," Lucky countered. "It's a wall."
Struggling to turn around to see what they were arguing about, I noticed the flash of headlights of another vehicle heading toward us. Blinking rapidly, trying to focus better, I saw the wall Lucky didn't want to drive through. It was short, only four or five feet tall, but seemed to stretch forever.
Beside me, Joy moaned.
I glanced down and realized blood covered her forehead.
I looked up again at the headlights slowly rolling toward us. Our captors knew they had us trapped, so they were taking their time with their approach, toying with us.
"Out!" I ordered in the strongest voice I could muster. "Everyone out of the truck."
Armani and Lucky obeyed, but I had to help Joy, who was holding her head and staggering like a drunkard.
"What do we do, Maggie?" Armani asked.
"We get over the wall."
Lucky groaned. "They'll catch us."
"Not necessarily. C'mon, help me get them over."
Since Joy wasn't going to be of any help to anyone, we unceremoniously hefted and pushed her over. I winced as I heard her hit the ground on the other side of the wall with a solid thud.
It was just as challenging to get Armani over since she couldn't really use her bad leg or arm, but we managed it. Unlike Joy, she teetered atop the wall, straddling both sides.
"Now you," I told Lucky, lacing my fingers for him to step in so I could boost him over.
"What about you?" he asked.
"I'm getting back in the truck and driving straight toward that car that's coming," I told him. "Hurry up."
"But you'll be killed."
"It'll buy you guys some time. Now go."
I saw his hesitation and, once again, was struck with how he wasn't really such a bad guy despite having been adopted by a major crime family.
"They need your help," I told him, holding out my interwoven fingers.
"Be careful." With that, he stepped into my hands and I hoisted him over. He was helping Armani climb down as I raced around the truck and got behind the wheel.
Chapter 25
"Are you sure this is the best plan?" God asked.
"It's the only one I've got. If you want out, now's the time to say."
"No way. Put the pedal to the metal."
Popping the truck into drive, I pressed the accelerator to the floor and hung on to the steering wheel for dear life as we careened, full speed, across the land separating us from those who wanted to kill me.
"Geronimo!" God shouted as the engine roared.
"Geronimo?"
"If it’s good enough for The Doctor, it’s good enough for me."
"Doctor who?"
"Exactly."
I gave up trying to make sense of what he was saying, white-knuckling the steering wheel as we hurtled toward the nearing headlights.
At the last second, the car full of killers swerved out of the way.
"Ha!" God crowed victoriously. "Chickens!"
I’d have liked to think that the men had been impressed by my nerves of steel, but I suspected their retreat had something to do with the red and blue flashing lights bouncing toward us.
The lizard noticed them too. "Beat it, man. It’s the cops."
"You watch way too much TV." I slowed down as a pair of police cruisers approached.
"How are you going to explain being here?" the lizard asked.
"I’ll try the truth."
"Half-truths."
Putting the pick-up into park and my hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, I did my best to look like a law-abiding citizen.
A trooper emerged from each car. They shared a look I couldn’t read, but I knew I didn’t like. When they drew their weapons and pointed them at me, I raised my hands, demonstrating I wasn’t armed.
"I’ve got a bad feeling about this," God murmured.
A niggling sensation tickled my gut. "Me too."
Then the shooting started.
"They’re trying to kill us!" God screamed, ducking for cover.
Sliding down in my seat, I fumbled with the gearshift as the windshield cracked.
"Get us out of here," the lizard begged.
"I’m trying."
Finally, the truck slid into reverse and I stomped on the accelerator. We flew backward. I tried to see where I was headed in the side-view mirror, but I didn’t dare take my foot off the gas pedal. "Why are they trying to kill us?"
"Maybe they’re on the O’Hara’s payroll."
The truck backed into something solid with a sickening crunch, slamming us to a stop.
Stunned by the impact, it took a second for me to catch my breath and clear my head.
"We’ve got to get out of here. We’re sitting ducks," the lizard hissed.
"What is it with you and all the bird references?" I stumbled out of the truck, just in time to see the cruisers start toward us.
"They’re coming," God warned from his vantage point on my shoulder.
"Thank you, Captain Obvious." Unable to use the pick-up for escape, and knowing I didn’t stand a chance in the open field, I took off running toward the nearest structure that would offer shelter—an old, dilapidated barn.
"What are you doing?"
"Hiding," I gasped, thinking that if I was really a kick-ass Hitwoman, I wouldn’t have to explain myself to a lizard who wouldn’t stop talking.
"Ugggh." God groaned as I slipped inside the barn. "It stinks of hooved beasts."
"It’s a barn. By definition, it would be used to house barnyard animals." I searched desperately for something to use as a weapon, but the barn seemed to be empty except for the straw which covered the floor.
Hearing the motors of the car pull up to the barn, I ran to the back of the building and kicked out a loose board at the back.
"You're never going to be able to outrun them," God opined from his spot on my shoulder. "I fear this might be the end for you."
"Don't say that." But he was right, I wouldn't be able to outrun them, but maybe, just maybe, I could hide.
Instead of exiting through the hole I'd made in the wall, I turned back toward the center of the barn. Spotting a ladder, I scrambled up to a loft-like area, found the darkest area, and crouched down in the midst of a large pile of straw that poked and scratched. It wasn't much of a hiding space, but it was all I had.
I heard men, at least three conferring outside the barn. The door burst open, bouncing against the wall, the noise echoing in the emptiness.
"There," one of the cops shouted.
I held my breath, balling my hands into fists, preparing to fight to the death.
But no one climbed the ladder. Instead they moved to the spot where I'd kicked out the board.
"She got out the back," the other cop muttered.
"Get her," Jimmy ordered.
They ran back out the door.
I stayed where I was, afraid to move. My entire body itched from the straw. I pinched my nose, trying to stifle a sneeze.
The cars started up again and roared away.
And still I remained in my hiding spot, unconvinced they'd all left. A decision that
seemed wise when I heard footsteps lightly padding below.
"They're gone, you can come out now," a voice that seemed familiar whispered.
Thinking my mind was playing tricks on me, I remained silent.
"Are you in here?"
"Are you going to answer him?" God asked.
I shook my head, not daring to speak.
The man began to climb the ladder. He'd find me. I rushed toward the ladder, ready to knock it and the climber to the ground.
As my hands hit the top of the ladder, he whispered, "Mags?"
I'd already hit the wood when I realized who it was. Carried by the momentum of the force I'd struck it with, the ladder began to tip backward, away from the loft. Desperately, I reached for it, almost falling off the edge. Through a stroke of luck, I caught it with one hand and somehow managed to drag it backward.
"Are you trying to kill me?" Patrick Mulligan asked, staring up at me wide-eyed.
"I thought you were trying to kill me," I explained weakly.
"I'm trying to save you. Can we get out of here now?"
Nodding, I swung a leg over and began climbing down despite the fact that my thighs felt weak and heavy. Reaching the bottom, I was surprised by the expression on Patrick's face when I turned to look at him. It looked a lot like fear. It made me feel even worse about the situation. Then he noticed the lizard perched on my shoulder and rolled his eyes. That reaction made me feel a teeny bit better.
He didn't say anything, just grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind him as he exited the barn. I wanted to ask how we were going to get away or how he'd found me, but I didn't dare speak. I just followed him, as skirting along the building, we moved back toward the pick-up truck.
We were almost there when something whizzed past my ear.
"Down!" Patrick tackled me as a flurry of gunshots filled the air, kicking up the dirt surrounding us.
"Aaaah!" God screamed, losing his balance as I fell to the ground.
I froze, unsure of where he’d fallen.
"Save yourself!" he shouted from what seemed quite a distance away.
Scrambling on my hands and knees, scraping them up in the process, I followed Patrick’s jean-clad butt as he retreated back to the barn.
Gasping, we practically fell back inside, cloaked in shadows and the scents of straw and livestock. Adrenaline pumping, hearts pounding, we stared at each other.
