Page 24 of Risk It All
The car tore backward, leaving the grenade to fall to the ground, and crashed through the mostly closed doors behind them. Cara yelped, squeezing her eyes closed and then immediately snapping them open again, not wanting to see but still needing to. The impact brought the rest of the wall down, ancient boards splintering, destroyed chunks raining down on the car like a merciless wooden hailstorm.
The tires bumped over the remains of the door as the car flew backward, giving Cara a clear view of the barn’s collapse. The entire front of the building sagged, seeming to droop in slow motion before crumbling into a jagged pile of broken lumber.
“Head down!” Kavenski bellowed, reaching out to shove her face down toward her knees. Cara curled up as well as she could with her seat belt on, just as she heard a sharpcrackand hiss. Needing to know what had just happened, she glanced up and saw the hole in the windshield, cobwebbed cracks radiating out from that center nucleus.
The car skidded as it rotated, and Cara swallowed a shriek, her terrified gaze shooting toward Kavenski. His stony expression was weirdly soothing, and she took a tiny bit of hope in the determined set of his mouth. This was not a man who was going to let himself be blown up, and she was lucky enough to be in the passenger seat of his car.
He shifted gears, and the car tore forward, jerking at the abrupt change of direction. “Head down,” he ordered again, and she ducked back into her curled position, her forehead just above her knees.
Then the whole world exploded.
The back window shattered as a world-shakingboomseemed to fill her head, so loud and all-encompassing that she felt the shock through her whole body. They flew forward as if a giant had shot them out of a slingshot, flinging them impossibly fast across the rough terrain. Cara clutched the seat by her knees, her teeth clenched so tightly that pain radiated up to her temples. For the first time, she wasn’t at all tempted to look up. She couldfeelwhat was happening, and it wasn’t anything good.
Wind rushed through the car, howling, the sound competing with the roar of the rapidly growing fire behind them. The whole world was lit up in an inferno of red and orange. Although Cara knew they were alive, it still felt like they’d been caught in the center of the explosion, and how could anyone have lived through that? It was hard to believe that they’d made it through intact, and she stared down at her body, needing to see physical evidence of her survival.
She blinked at her knees, taking stock of each body part. Her sore face and lingering headache—as well as a few stinging or sore parts—proved that she hadn’t died. She took a deep breath, the first real one since the grenade had hit their car, and let it out slowly, allowing herself a second to relax with relief. With what felt like a huge effort, she unlocked her neck muscles enough to turn her head and check on Kavenski.
To her shock, he looked…the same, grim and ferociously determined to get them to safety. Except for a scratch beading blood on his cheek, he didn’t appear any different than he had before their world exploded. She felt a surge of gratitude that he’d come for her, that he’d risked his life over and over to save her own.
His jaw muscles were still locked tight, but he was in one glorious piece. She couldn’t stop herself from reaching her trembling hand toward him, needing tactile evidence that her mind wasn’t making this up, that he—and she—had both survived. Her trembling fingers touched his forearm, and the feel of his clenched muscles made the entire thing seem real. All her breath left her in a rush that made her head spin.
At her touch, his gaze darted toward her quickly before returning to whatever was in front of them. “You okay?” His voice was gruff, but the obvious concern made her smile.
“I think?” She sounded just as she figured anyone would after so many near-death experiences in less than fourteen or so hours. “Unless I’m dead, and you’re just my ride to the afterlife.”
His rough chuckle sounded as if it had been torn out of him. “Doubt we’d be going to the same place, sweetheart.”
As crazy and terrifying as their current situation was, Cara still laughed. The sharp pop of another crack appearing in the windshield cut her off. Twisting around in her seat, she saw that the rear windshield had shattered and collapsed on itself, only the film lining the glass keeping the pieces from separating. Wind tore through the opening along with a thick cloud of dust, and she coughed as she tried to peer through the dirt fog the wheels were kicking up. Vaguely, she could make out the shapes of at least two vehicles much too close behind them.
“They’re behind us,” she said, raising her voice to be heard above the wind. “About sixty feet back.” Turning back around, she examined the front windshield, happy to see that most of the damage was on the passenger side. Although there were some cracks on the driver’s side, it wasn’t enough to limit Kavenski’s field of vision.
He gave a grunt in acknowledgment, but his attention remained focused ahead of them. Although the ground had appeared flat when she was looking from the cabin, it wasn’t anything like a road—not even a dirt one. The car dipped and lurched, knocking Cara’s teeth together when it flew over a particularly deep hole. She clung to the door handle, trying to keep from turning around to stare at their pursuers. There was athumpright as a hole appeared in the dashboard just a few inches to her left.
“Get down,” Kavenski ordered, and she curled over once again as the reality of what had just happened struck her. A bullet had buried itself in the dash right next to her.
“They’re really determined not to let us get away, aren’t they?” she asked, her words muffled by her position. She was glad for that, since it hid the shake in her voice.
“Yeah, they are. Get on the floor.”
She released the seat belt before wedging herself into a ball in the foot well, trying to make her body as small a target as possible. It was hard to keep her head down, though. The thought of Kavenski being unprotected and vulnerable was unbearable, and his concern forhersafety made it worse.
“Want me to drive?” she called out. She’d be terrified, but at least she wasn’t the size of a linebacker. Even not curled into a ball, she’d make a smaller target, one that would—hopefully—be harder for the men behind them to hit.
“No.” The car jerked to the right suddenly, and Cara swallowed a startled yelp. Before she could recover her breath, they changed directions again, swerving to the left this time. She braced herself the best she could as the quick turns continued.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to drive?” she yelled, smacking her head on the underside of the dash as they hit a bump big enough to launch the car into the air. When the wheels touched down, Cara thumped her head again.
“No. Quit micromanaging.” Except for an almost undetectable tightness in his voice, he sounded much too calm for the situation. His even tone, just loud enough for her to hear over the wind and engine noise, made everything—the chasing and shooting and the bullet hole in the dash—seem surreal. She peeked up, raising her head just enough to get a glimpse of him, needing to see that he was fine and bullet-hole free. Without turning his head, he ordered, “Stay down.”
She subsided, figuring that it would be good for at least one of them to remain uninjured. Mentally, she rehearsed what she’d do if he was shot. Would it be easier to shove him to the side and take over at the wheel, or just sit on his lap?
The car continued to swerve, so Cara kept herself braced. The deliberate turns reassured her that he was still in one piece, although she stayed tense, expecting at any second for a bullet to hit him.
Her stomach swooped as the car dipped down and then up again before making a hard left. She held her breath as the rear tires skidded sideways. She expected them to spin out, giving their pursuers time to catch up—or at least to get close enough to shoot more accurately. Kavenski somehow managed to wrestle the vehicle back into a straight line. As they accelerated, Cara heard the distinctive ping of gravel hitting the car’s underbelly, and her head popped up.
“We’re on a road?” For some reason, her heart leapt in hope. A road meant civilization, which meant more people and law enforcement and not being outnumbered by the bad guys who were trying to kill them.
“Yes. Stay down.” His huge hand covered the back of her head, encouraging her to tuck back into her small ball. The gesture should’ve seemed oppressive, but it felt oddly reassuring. He gave her back a light pat as he withdrew, and that was more comforting than it should’ve been.
