Page 79 of Graveyards & Greed

Terrance bellowed and slammed his hands against the driver’s side window as we flew past him. I jumped but didn’t let up on the gas. A thump sounded behind me, and the tires rolled over something substantial. I’d just backed over Ducky. It felt too meaty to be Earl.

The Escalade bumped up onto the curb across the street, and I let off the gas when the back end smashed into a hedge, barely missing a tree. Frantically, I worked to get the gear shift into drive. My hands were sweaty, and my heart raced in my chest. I breathed frantically through my nose, trying to get enough air. The stringent smell of tequila hit me, and I glanced down and noticed an open bottle, a lighter, and what looked like a bong in the cupholders.

Getting the vehicle into drive, I stomped on the gas again, yanking the wheel to the left to keep it on the road. The back tire rolled over something, and I heard a hoarse shout of pain. I hoped it was Terrance, but thought it was probably Earl’s foot.

Using my knee to steer, I reached up and tugged the tape off my mouth, wincing as a few strands of hair came with it. Then I sucked in sweet, glorious oxygen. Jolie whimpered in the passenger seat and eyed me malevolently as her nose bled. Taking my hands off the wheel again, I swiveled, made two fists, and hit her in the side of her temple as hard as I could, like a battering ram. It was awkward, but her head snapped sideways and struck the passenger window. She slumped in the seat, looking dazed.

Bringing my wrists to my mouth, I started feeling for the end of the duct tape when a bullet hit the sideview mirror. My knee jerked and the vehicle lurched to the side. Another bullet went through the open hatchback, punching through the driver’s seat, and striking me across the top of my shoulder.

“Fuck!” I yelped, pain and adrenaline ripping through my system. The roundabout to the neighborhood entrance loomed fifty feet in front of me, and I hunched down, praying no more bullets found me. I should have prayed for the SUV too. A back tire blew, and the vehicle swerved sharply to the left. Then another tire blew.

I wasn’t going to make it out of the neighborhood, but maybe I could attract enough attention to keep Terrance from dragging me back to his house for a torture, rape, and kill session. Wrestling the wheel, I hit the gas one last time and plowed into the faux Roman fountain in the middle of the landscaped roundabout.

The vehicle hit the curb with a thud and came to rest with the front tire up on the ledge of the cement fountain, shuddering to a stop. Thank Jesus the airbag hadn’t deployed. Jolie groaned in the passenger seat as I glanced in the rearview mirror to see Earl limping toward me with a gun in his hand. Terrance was nowhere in sight, but I knew he was out there somewhere.

Grabbing the liquor bottle next to me, I frantically looked around, searching for any kind of weapon. On the passenger-side floor, a huge, half-empty chicken bucket sat with greasy napkins on top. I took a big swig of tequila, then grabbed a few napkins and quickly stuffed them in the top of the bottle. My trapezius muscle screamed in protest, and blood trickled down the front of my shirt, but I thanked God and Mary that I could still move my arm.

Setting the bottle back down, I picked up the lighter from the cupholder and gave it a few flicks before it finally lit. Turning, I noticed the window was still up. Fuck! With the lighter still lit, I struggled to roll the window down, burning my finger in the process. I couldn’t swear out loud or I’d lose the liquid in my mouth. But Ireallywanted to.

Earl ranted as he shuffled toward me. “You ran over my foot, you fuckin’ cunt! I’m gonna enjoy hurtin’ you, and then I’m goin’ after that little piece Eightball and Carver plowed. Now, get outta the motherfuckin’ car.”

He limped up to the vehicle and reached for the door handle as I lit the napkins. Swinging the flaming bottle out of the window, I spewed liquor in his face, stuck the flaming napkins into it, and then dropped the bottle by his feet on the fountain ledge below.

The bottle broke, and the liquor lit up nicely. Earl screamed and stepped back, but his greased-back hair caught, and his head went up like a match. I stared in stupefied amazement, shocked that my half-assed idea had worked.

The flames rolled back toward me, following the dying liquor stream, but I jerked back.

The pungent smell of burning hair hit my nose, and between the tequila and the stale scent of fried chicken, my stomach lurched again. Earl windmilled backward, dropping the gun, then started flailing around as he screamed. I crawled into the back seat, stepping on Jolie as I went, then worked my way out the open back hatch.

Fear and awe coursed through my system like a syrupy cocktail as I looked around at the strange mess I’d created. Earl dunked his head into the fountain next to the Escalade, and cried piteously. My cousins were never going to let me live this down.

Hobbling toward the trees and shrubs lining the sidewalk, I stopped behind a trunk in the landscape strip to catch my breath and figure out how I could get ahold of Drakos or my cousins.

The adrenaline was ebbing, and I felt so weak that I slid down the tree trunk, probably leaving a bloody trail behind. Seconds later, I heard footsteps pounding on the pavement, and I froze. Terrance stopped maybe ten feet from where I sat, frantically looking around, and then he stared, wide-eyed with clenched teeth, at his new, expensive Escalade propped drunkenly against the fountain with Earl moaning next to it. A split second later, headlights shone at the entrance, and a car pulled into the roundabout, then stopped abruptly. I saw Terrance hesitate, then pull a gun from behind his back.

A second set of lights shone from the opposite end of the street, and Terrance swore viciously before ducking out of sight. Seconds later, I heard his heavy steps running back the way he’d come.

People were getting out of their cars, talking loudly to each other, and pulling out their phones when a minivan screeched to a stop. Fenn stuck his head out, frantically searching the wreck.

I awkwardly crawled to my feet with my hands still duct taped in front of me and panted out a half-laugh. “Over here,” I called as I limped toward him.

Fenn’s head snapped in my direction. He and Kilian leaped out of the minivan as a black Range Rover screeched to a halt beside them. I watched Drakos get out and run toward me while scanning the area.

Fenn shook his head when he saw the state I was in. “You took ten years off everyone’s life, and you look like the last survivor in a horror flick. But you’re a goddamn Houdini.”

While Fenn berated me and Kilian kept an eye on Earl, Drakos elbowed his way past them and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I flinched in pain, and he pulled his hand back and looked at the blood on it, then gazed down at me, searching my face. “Did you get shot?” he growled.

“I think I did.” My knees finally collapsed under me, and Drakos caught me as Fenn’s eyes went wide. I’d never seen him look this freaked out. “Fuck, Syl. Please don’t die on us.”

Drakos stood with his hands on his hips while Xander’s sister, Gia, cleaned and stitched up the laceration on my shoulder where the bullet had left a deep gouge. She’d also cleaned and disinfected the scratches on my neck and cheek, and prodded the large, fist-sized bruises on my face and torso. It hurt to breathe too deeply, and I wondered if Terrance had cracked a rib.

Gia worked as a nurse, and I found out she moonlighted for The Firm when someone got hurt or shot. If the injuries weren’t life-threatening, it kept the police from being notified. We’d come to Ezra’s house after they picked me up since it was closer to Henderson.

Fenn paced at the end of the bed in my old bedroom. “How inthe fuckdid you let yourself get kidnapped?” I tried to roll my shoulder and then abruptly stopped as pain spiked through me. “Really? All you’ve got is a half-shrug? I’m not saying you’re stupid, but it’s like your good sense goes on vacation sometimes.”

He probably had a point. My raw and swollen wrists throbbed, and Alexa and Luna had carefully worked the duct tape out of my hair. I hadn’t told Gia about my banged-up knee yet, and there wasn’t much I could do about my bloody clothes until we were finished here. I looked and felt like three-day-old roadkill, and probably smelled like it too.

Kilian shook his head. “You have a knee-jerk reaction to protect vulnerable people. They used it against you.”

---