“The biker only knows one trick,” Rick said. “Stay put, I’ll get the spotlight.” He felt his way from the room.
Sophia aimed her rifle. A million worries and doubts boiled in her stomach. What if she missed? Act now, agonize later. She held her breath, braced for the recoil, and squeezed the trigger.
The window shattered, the noise ricocheted around the room, and Glenn slammed into the wall. The bullet pierced his shoulder right at the joint of his shooting arm. The force knocked him out. He slid to the floor with a thud.
Bingo! One down, three to go.
The girl yelled and threw herself flat, covering her head with her arms. Her brother had taught her well. Sophia swung the rifle towards the others. Ed dived into the hallway, but the Tank had his arm around Mitch’s neck, pinning the agent in front of him as a shield.
“Shoot him,” Mitch called.
Where? Mitch covered almost all of the Tank. And she wasn’t a sharpshooter. Then she realized Mitch’s hands weren’t bound. One grasped the Tank’s meaty forearm, but the other pointed down. The guy’s knee poked out between Mitch’s legs.
Oh shit. She aimed. I bet Mitch is wishing for a real pair of bulletproof underwear. She fired the gun and the bullet hit the Tank’s knee, obliterating it. Yuck. Mitch broke away as the Tank screamed.
“Jenna?” Mitch called, searching for his sister. They connected. The girl wrapped her arms around him and sobbed.
“It’s OK,” he said over and over.
I wish. She kept watch for the two men who escaped. The sound of an engine turning over came from the front of the house. Headlights stabbed the darkness.
“Mitch, they’re in the Rover,” she said.
The noise grew louder as the light brightened.
“Go!” Mitch ordered.
Sophia sprinted around the back of the house, hoping to loop behind them and shoot out their tyres. When she reached the front, light blinded her. She forgot about the pickup truck.
A shot boomed. Wood splintered. She dived to the ground, dropping her rifle, but kept moving, pulling herself along as if the air was filled with smoke. Gravel scraped her forearms as she sought the edge of light.
She bumped into a solid object. Please be a tree trunk, she prayed. But even blind there was no mistaking the touch of cold hard metal on her temple. A wave of terror swept through her.
“Stand up,” Rick said.
She stood. The gun remained.
“Son of a bitch. No wonder you’ve been giving us such trouble. Are you working for the feds?” he asked.
“Yes, and my team will be here any minute.”
He laughed. “Nice try.” He shoved her forwards. “Up against the house.”
Rick pushed her into the wood siding. The peeling paint chips scratched her cheek, a minor thing considering the gun’s barrel now pressed on the back of her neck. She heard the Rover squeal to a stop.
“Did you get him?” Ed asked.
Rick snorted. “Our biker’s a light bender.”
Well, at least he used the right name . . .
“No shit!”
“Take the rifle and check the house. Let Mitch know we have his friend.”
Rick must have turned the lights back on. Time flowed like sweet tea - the kind with so much sugar it had the consistency of syrup. Sweat collected and dripped down her back. Why didn’t I ride over to Nantahala Lake tonight?
Finally, Ed returned. “Mitch and his sister have disappeared. Glenn’s gun is gone and he and Max are in bad shape.”
The tightness in her chest eased a bit. She hoped Mitch took his sister far away.
“The kids?”
“Gone too.”
Rick cursed. “Get the spotlight and go find them,” Rick ordered. “They couldn’t have gone far.” He grabbed Sophia’s arm and propelled her into the house. “You saved his life and he left you behind. That’s gotta hurt.”
“I’m glad,” she said. “I’d rather he save those girls than me.” And she meant it. They could have full lives ahead of them — high school, graduation, college, romance, marriage and babies, if they weren’t forced to become night-time operatives for some government. Her existence was just that, an existence. She had retreated from the world, but. . . she didn’t have to. Suddenly a whole list of things she could do scrolled through her mind. If she had a second chance, she wouldn’t hide any more. If not, then exchanging her life for four others would be consolation enough.
The fear left her, leaving behind a peaceful confidence.
Rick kept his hold and the gun on her. The hot scent of blood filled the air, gagging her. A man moaned in pain.
“Damn, lady. You sure did a number on them.”
“They’re survivable injuries,” she said.
“But they’re no good to me now. I can’t take them with me and I can’t leave them here.”
The gun moved. “No!” she yelled. She spun, knocking his arm away as the gun fired. They fell together.
He rolled on top of her, pinning her down with his weight. Rick pressed the red-hot barrel into her neck. She cried out as the smell of burning flesh replaced the cloying blood scent.
“You’re dead,” he said.
She jerked as the gun roared. Pain blazed. Sophia struggled to draw breath as a heavy weight settled on her chest. Warm liquid soaked her shirt. Can’t breathe. She felt light as her father called her name. Then he shook her shoulders . . . hard. When he slapped her, she tried to punch him, but he grabbed her wrist.
“Are you all right?” Mitch asked.
She felt her neck. Aside from the burn, it remained whole, but the metallic tang of blood dominated her senses. Her hands were sticky. “Rick?”
“Dead. Come on.” Mitch pulled her to her feet.
She wobbled. “The girls? Ed?”
“Oldest trick in the book. I hid the girls in the basement, and left the back door wide open. Ed’s out cold.” He wrapped her in a hug. “I’ve done a number of stupid things today, but I wasn’t going to leave you.”
She clung to him, enjoying his warmth and strength. “Thanks for saving—”
He silenced her with a kiss. All too soon he broke away. “Just returning the favour.”
Mitch kissed her again, but this one had a feeling of finality about it. He led her outside. The darkness embraced her and she fanned her blistered neck.
“My team will be here in an hour. You need to go.” He was all business.
Despite the ache chewing holes in her heart Sophia understood he was protecting her.
Her moment of clarity had given her plenty of ideas of how to use her talent to help people. Even though she could see in the dark, it didn’t mean she had to live there.
An icy chill gripped her. She slogged to her bike. The ride home blurred into one long endurance test, ending with a collapse on her bed.
Months passed. Sophia ventured back into society. The Association for the Blind taught her how to live in the light. She reconnected with the people at her father’s firehouse. No longer afraid of being caught by the feds, Sophia explored the limits of her unique talent. She stopped hiding and rejoined the world. At night, her activities became more clandestine. She aided a search and rescue mission, helping to find a lost boy scout, and she followed a potential arsonist, stopping him before he set another barn fire.
Sophia was painting when headlights swept her cabin. The Association was delivering her guide dog tonight. Eager to meet her furry companion, she hurried outside. Caught in the headlights, she didn’t need to act blind. She clutched a post on her porch to keep from tripping. When the lights extinguished, she saw a huge pickup truck with a Suzuki Z250 in the bed parked in her driveway. No dog.
Mitch hopped down from the driver’s seat. She blinked, but he remained.
“What do you think?” He gestured to the bike.
“You should have bought a Honda instead of a Suck-zuki,” she said.
“They’re fighting words. You’ll change your mind when you
’re eating my dust.”
She laughed. “You think you can keep up with me?”
He reached into the cab and pulled out a helmet. “State-of-the-art night-vision visor.” He glanced up. A waning half-moon hung in the sky. “Plenty of light. Want to go for a ride?”
“I can’t. I’m waiting for a dog.”
“A dog’s more important?” he asked with a neutral tone.
“The dog’s here to stay, and isn’t just visiting for a joyride.”
He set the helmet on the seat, and strode towards her. He wore her father’s T-shirt. The bruises on his face were long gone, and her insides flipped when he reached her.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’ve been keeping track of this area, reading the local papers and doing internet searches.” He touched her neck, rubbing a thumb over her burn scar. “Seems a few unexplained, yet happy incidents have occurred in the Smoky Mountains these past three months.” He dropped his hand. “Guess I was wrong about you.”
“No. You were right. I’ve been hiding for a long time. Afraid to use my talents.”
“And now you’re not?”
“No. I’m still afraid, but I won’t let it stop me.”
“Admirable.” He smiled. “Are you brave enough to expand your nocturnal activities, and work with a partner?”
“It depends.”
His smile faltered. “On what?”
“On how close of a partnership you’re talking about.”
He pulled her towards him. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her. “Is this close enough?”
Instead of answering, she led him to her dark bedroom. “You can get closer. How’s your night vision?”
Mitch grinned. “Excellent.”
Author Biographies
Maria V. Snyder
Award-winning, New York Times bestselhng author of Poison Study, Magic Study and Fire Study Her next book, Storm Glass will be out in spring 2009, and Sea Glass follows in the autumn.
mariavsnyder.com
Constable & Robinson Ltd
3 The Lanchesters 162 Fulham Palace Road
London W6 9ER www.constablerobinson.com
First published in the UK by Robinson, an imprint of Constable & Robinson, 2009
“Night Vision” © by Maria V. Snyder. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
The right of Trisha Telep to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A copy of the British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
UK ISBN 978-1-84529-941-5
First published in the United States in 2009 by Running Press Book Publishers
All rights reserved under the Pan-American and International Copyright Conventions
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without written permission from the publisher.
US Library of Congress number: 2008942197 US ISBN 978-7624-3651-4
Running Press Book Publishers
2300 Chestnut Street Philadelphia, PA 19103-4371
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