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Her hair blew in a halo around her head. “Trevor, I can’t see!” He’d lowered the window behind her—but the track was too rough to release the wheel and contain her hair in a ponytail.
“Oh.” The wind lessened but didn’t disappear; he must have rolled the window up. “Hair tie?”
“In the front pocket of my backpack.” She gripped the wheel tighter, trying to speed up, but they bounced so high she slowed again.
Hands cupped the sides of her face, pressing her hair against her head. Then Trevor smoothed one hand over the top of her head and pulled her hair back. “Can you see?”
“Yes. I’m fine.” Some strands still lingered, but they weren’t a serious obstruction, just an annoyance.
“Good. I’ve got a rifle back here, so don’t jump when it blasts your ears. Sorry I don’t have earmuffs.”
“Better to live with hearing loss than die.” She kept the SUV moving, wishing they still had Andreas’s Jeep. Another gate blocked the way in front of them. “Ramming another gate!”
“Copy that. Go!”
A loud crack and a window shattered behind her, with a metallic ripping noise. “Trevor!”
“Go! I’m fine.”
Sam slammed the pedal down, clanging into the green metal gate. It swung wide and rebounded, hitting the back of the SUV with a thud. She crossed another ditch, where the track came to a gravel road. “Which way?”
“Right!”
The rifle boom made her jump, but she spun the wheel and turned, jamming the accelerator to the floor. The vehicle shuddered, bouncing along the rutted surface, the wind rising. She risked a glance in the rear-view mirror.
Trevor crouched on the back seat, a rifle in his hands, pointing out the passenger side window. How he could aim with the car leaping was beyond her. A second blast jolted her, and she winced at the high-pitched ringing in her ears.
“Got that one. Keep going!” Trevor yelled in her ear. “Turn left at the next road.”
She certainly wasn’t slowing down, but she was grateful for the directions. She should have studied the map, but she’d thought they’d have more time. So had Trevor, obviously. Spinning the wheel, she skidded around the corner on to a smoother, wider gravel road, and sped up again.
Her shoulder jostled, and she glanced back. Trevor leaned on the armrest between the seats. Red ran down his arm. “You’ve been shot!” Terror sent her heart rate through the roof, and she let off the accelerator. She was a lawyer, not a doctor, and the nearest hospital was in the middle of town.
“Don’t stop! There’s more cars chasing us. It’s just a crease. Hurts like fire, but it’s fine.” He shifted away. “If you stop, we’re dead.”
“Grab a t-shirt out of my bag. Get the bleeding stopped.” Sam wanted to pull over, but he was right. Dying was worse.
“It’s okay. I’ve got a first-aid kit. I’ll get it when I’m sure we’re not being followed.” His tone was absent-minded, like he was concentrating on something else.
Sam couldn’t help worrying. “But there could be someone in front of us! Fix it now!”
“Fine!” In the rear-view mirror, Trevor put the rifle down.
The ringing in her ears lessened. Another intersection appeared. “Which way?”
“Straight. We’ll reach the south road out shortly. It’s a big double gate. You’ll have to input the code to open it. It’s 2246. Keep your head low while we’re stopped.” Plastic ripped and Trevor muttered something under his breath.
She continued straight. The road smoothed and widened again, a pair of upright logs bracketing the road in the distance, with another road beyond that. “I see the gate, but I don’t see any obvious cars or people in front of us.”
“Good. We threw them off—for now. We’ll probably be found once we hit the highway. I’ve got to call Aviss.”
“Make sure the wound is wrapped first. Doesn’t she have people monitoring the ranch’s security?” She stopped where a code pad stuck up from the side of the road and entered the code. Accelerating through the gate, she slammed on the brakes.
“Ow.” Trevor fell against her seat, jolting her. “Turn right. Yes, Aviss was watching, but I’d bet there was a catastrophic failure.”
Turning onto the dirt road, she pressed the pedal again, but the SUV bounded across the washboard surface, making the vehicle difficult to control. Fields of grazing cattle alternated with harvested stubble on both sides of the road, which paralleled a winding stream.
“Go faster, Sam. There’s someone parallel to us, still on the ranch.” Trevor yelled over the road and wind noise from the shattered windows.
