Page 126 of Axe-ing for Trouble
The mountain of a man kept the gun trained on me as he gestured for Jude to pass over the rifle.
With shaky hands, Jude took it off his shoulder and handed it to him.
“Who are you?” the man sneered with a thick Quebecois accent.
“Hikers,” I replied. “Nous sommes en randonnee.We’re just on a hike,” I said with a shrug.
Brow cocked, he gestured for us to turn and walk toward the open road. As we reached the tree line, I hesitated. But when he poked Jude in the back with the gun, I came to terms with my lack of options and continued moving.
No sooner had we made it to the road than Denis Huxley himself strode our way, a gun in his belt and a wide smile on his face.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he said, the grin making him look even more rat-like. “Another fucking Hebert? God, I cannot escape you people. You never stop causing fucking problems.”
He ran a hand through his greasy hair.
“Can’t wait to kill that bitch, Victoria.”
Jude stiffened beside me.
“The rest of your family too. I told my dad a decade ago that it was time to get rid of your old man, but he had a soft spot for him. Fuck of a lot of good that did us.” He shook his head and kicked at the dirt. “He should be here soon. Betting he’ll agree to let me shoot you pretty easily. Don’t think he’ll make that mistake a second time.”
I opened my mouth to try and reason with him, but before I could, a commotion at the building had all of us focusing on it.
Several dark SUVs came in from the other side of the road.
Including one withLovewell PDon the side.
Relief washed over me.Oh, thank God.
“Flics!” Several men shouted the French slang word for police, running to their trucks.
Denis turned as several more vehicles arrived and police in riot gear exited quickly.
Jude grabbed my hand and tugged, and we broke into a run, headed for the woods.
“Get them,” Denis yelled, pointing his gun at us.
Jude pulled me down to the ground as a shot ricocheted off a tree nearby. Other shots rang out, echoing off the trunks around us. Shouting too. A man yelled instructions into some type of sound system as we continued to run.
Men spilled out of the warehouse, some getting in trucks and peeling out, gravel flying. Others shot at the police cars.
“On that ledge,” a deep voice yelled. The command was quickly followed by a spray of dirt nearby. Then a round of shots was fired in our direction. Jude pushed me ahead of him, shielding me as we ran toward where we had left the ATV.
The men chasing us were on our heels as I stumbled over roots and rocks. Fuck. I wasn’t sure I was fast enough to outrun them.
A large, thundering crack stopped me in my tracks. I snapped my head up as a large tree branch fell.
Jude pulled my arm, but before he could get me out of the way, the branch slammed into my hip, throwing me several feet.
I landed on the rocky earth, and pain erupted, lighting up my entire left side. Though I was no longer on my feet, I was still moving. It took a moment to orient myself. Only then did I realize I was slipping. I reached out, grasping for saplings, tree roots, anything to stop the fall. It was no use. I continued to fall, only stopping when the back of my head made contact with a hard surface. My vision went blurry, and I could no longer see or hear Jude.
There was screaming and shooting and the occasional screech of tires, but no Jude.
There was pain and dizziness, but I’d lost his comforting touch.
“Mila,” a voice called out. “Are you okay?”
A man stood over me.
