Page 32 of Reckoning with the Cowboy
She could see another van parked in front of the house. Its headlights were on and it appeared to be running. She couldn’t see Max or Cordell, but the fact that Grimes had opened fire on the van told her at least he thought they were either in it or nearby.
Stepping up behind him, she pressed the gun barrel to the back of his head. “Stop,” she said.
He kept driving, but he slowed a little. He also quit firing on the van ahead of them. “You aren’t going to pull the trigger or you would have already,” he said with a scoff and started firing the AK again.
Josie moved the barrel of the gun from his head and fired a shot into his right thigh. Grimes let out a scream of pain, his foot coming off the gas. At the same time, though, he pulled the rifle inside and turned to fire over his shoulder into the back of the van. Josie had seen the move coming and grabbed it with her free hand to shove the barrel away. The passenger side window blew out.
Goldie had gotten loose and rushed to help her as he jerked the rifle free and swung it, catching her friend in the side of the head. Josie’s attention was drawn away as she saw Goldie go down.
“Bitch!” Grimes said and stomped on the gas again, thrusting the AK out the window and opening fire on the van.
Josie lost her balance as he hit a bump in the road. She tumbled to the floor next to Goldie, losing her grip on the gun. All she could think was that she should have taken the kill shot. Now they were all going to die, she told herself as she climbed to her feet and saw that they were about to crash into the van head-on.
* * *
Cordell couldn’t seeinside the van careening toward him. He didn’t know if Josie and Goldie were in there. That’s why he didn’t want to shoot. He was afraid to take a chance.
But he also couldn’t wait any longer as the van headed directly for him. He took aim where he figured Roger’s head would be behind the wheel, took a deep breath, held it and pulled the trigger.
He saw the windshield explode. In the headlights of the van, he saw Josie’s face as she grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it hard. The vehicle swerved, rocking on two wheels, barely missing him and the van where he stood as it roared toward the old house.
Cordell watched in horror as it crashed through the outer wall and disappeared inside. Pushing off the side of the van, he dropped the rifle and sprinted toward what was left of the old homestead house.
It was the place where Roger had made his life hell, but Cordell was no longer afraid of the ghosts. He was terrified of only one thing. Losing the woman he’d always loved.
* * *
The van wasburied in the building, the engine no longer running. Instead, it was deathly quiet in the former living room. Parts of the walls hung off the van in splinters.
Cordell stumbled through the debris, working his way to the passenger side of the van because it was the most accessible. As he got closer, he could hear the tick of the engine—and smell gas. The scent set his heart thundering as he felt his fear rise dangerously. If Grimes wasn’t already dead, he’d kill him.
At the side of the van, he jerked the door open. At first, all he saw was Goldie on the floor. He reached in, checking for a pulse. Finding one, he breathed a sigh of relief. But where was Josie?
He glanced into the front of the van. He still didn’t see Josie, and that terrified him. He tried the passenger door and saw her. She’d come over the van’s bench seat and now lay crumpled on the floorboard. Rushing to her, he heard her moan painfully as she tried to get up.
Cordell shot a look at Roger. He wasn’t moving in the driver’s seat, his head bent to his chest, which was soaked in blood.
“Easy” he said, helping Josie. “How badly are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “My shoulder,” she said as he got her out of the van. There was a goose egg of a bump on her forehead, but she was able to stand. “Goldie—”
“She’s still breathing,” he told her. “I’ll get her. But you have to get out of here. Max is outside. Go to him.”
She met his gaze before she limped out into the darkness of the storm. The rain had stopped. He barely noticed. Roger was still slumped behind the wheel. There was also no sign of the weapon he’d been firing. That should have worried Cordell more than it did as the man lifted his head and looked right at him. The smell of gasoline was much stronger. It burned his eyes, making him aware that it could catch fire and blow any minute.
“Pipsqueak!” Roger’s voice was hoarse with pain and yet that mocking sick humor was still there as he called Cordell by the nickname he’d given him all those years ago. “You’ve grown up.”
He saw that his shot had been low, hitting the man in the chest rather than the head. But from the labored breathing, he suspected Roger wouldn’t make it even if he got to the hospital in time.
“You need to get me out of here,” Roger said. “This place is going to blow sky-high. Help me with my seat belt. I can’t get it to release.”
Cordell ignored him and went to the open side door of the van, lifting Goldie out. As he started to carry her toward the huge hole in the side of the house, he heard Roger call after him.
“Son! You can’t just leave me here to die.”
He didn’t turn around as he carried Goldie out toward the van where his brother and Josie were waiting. Almost there, he heard the explosion behind him, felt its heat and kept walking as Goldie began to come around.
Ahead, he could see his brother’s relief as well as his pain. All Cordell could think about was getting everyone to safety and Max to the nearest hospital.
