Page 38 of Final Approach
“I-I’m hanging.” His teeth chattered, then he let out a low groan and bent away from her to lose whatever had been in his stomach. Then he leaned back, head against the tree. “S-sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you have a concussion.”
“Yeah. Feels like it.”
Andrew joined them. “The shooter is hunkered down for the moment.” He frowned at Hank. “You don’t look so good, buddy.”
“I’ve been shot before. This ain’t near as bad.”
“I’m pretty sure I know where we are,” Kristine said. “Lake City Lake is that way.” She pointed up and to the left, back the way they’d come. “Based on how far we drove before the guy struck, we’re probably about two miles from James and Lainie’s house. If we can get there, we can call for help. They keep a satellite phone in case the reception is wonky.”
Andrew peered around the tree. A crack sounded and he jerked back. “I don’t think we have a choice. He’s going to keep coming. I don’t want to waste any more bullets on him.” He helped Hank to his feet. “Let’s go, my friend.”
“Not sure I can make it, Ross. Head is spinning and legs are weak.”
“You’ll make it if I have to carry you.”
“Sorry about all this. I shouldn’t have...” The man visibly gathered his strength and stepped forward. “I got it. I’m good.”
Since Andrew was doing the heavy work in holding Hank upright, Kristine removed her weapon. “Go down to the flat area, and then we can head up on an easier slope,” she said. “It’s my turn. Hurry from tree to tree.”
Andrew hesitated, looked like he wanted to protest, but she drilled him with a hard gaze, and he finally nodded, tightened his grip around Hank, and started up.
ANDREW WAS CONCERNEDabout Hank. He also worried they were all going to wind up with a bullet in them, but he kept going because he had no choice. And besides, he was cold, and movement was the only way to keep his blood flowing. Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning flashed. He said a quiet prayer that no one would get struckby lightning—and that he wouldn’t freak out in the storm. He wasn’t necessarily afraid of storms, but he’d admit to an intense dislike.
In answer to his breathed prayer, lightning held off through the open area. They made it down to flatter ground, still no shots coming their way, and Andrew pulled Hank to the tree line. Hurrying from tree to tree, they climbed upward, aiming for the road Kristine said would take them back to Lake City Lake. A flash of lightning lit up the area a second before the clap of thunder shook the earth.
The shooter’s gun barked again, and this time pain sliced along Andrew’s upper right shoulder. He cried out and nearly let go of Hank.
“Andrew!” Kristine’s terror for him came through in her shout.
“I’m all right! That’s eleven bullets.”
Kristine’s weapon answered in kind, and he turned to see the guy drop back with a harsh yell. Then rise and fire four pops close together.
Then silence.
He was either reloading or injured and down for the count. With each step, Hank hung heavier in Andrew’s grip, and now Andrew’s shoulder felt like someone had taken a blow torch to it.
Kristine hurried to him, slipped, and went down hard on her hip.
“Whoa!” He wanted to reach for her but didn’t want to drop a very quiet Hank. “You okay?” he asked her.
She grimaced and popped back up, aiming her weapon behind them. “Fine. Nothing hurt except my dignity.”
The shooter remained quiet. “Glock 19?” Andrew asked.
“Maybe. I counted fifteen bullets.”
“Could be reloading.” He wanted to turn around and go after the guy, but Hank...
“There’s a path somewhere just ahead,” Kristine said. “I’ve walked it with Lainie and the others. It runs parallel to the road.”
“I’m watching for it. Hank, talk to me. How are you doing? Can you go another little bit?”
“I’m a Marine, you moron. I’ll go as long as I have to.”
The words were said without heat and Andrew almost smiled. “Semper Fi, my man.”
