Griffin’s jaw was hard as stone.
Layla said.
Griffin downshifted a gear and drew his double-action pistol in preparation. I pulled my own and pretended handling a weapon like this for the first time with so much at stake was no big deal.
I mentally reviewed Orson’s quick instructions:Gun pointed down, finger off the trigger till you’re ready to shoot, then slide. Steady, take aim, and on an exhale, squeeze the trigger.
My crew and I were capable. We so could handle this.
Right?
Layla complained.
I waited for Brady to make one of his usual remarks, something like:Your smelly piss is so rank, everyone’ll drop on the spot.
But Brady was watching the three approaching SUVs as intently as we were.
Griffin asked hurriedly.
Hunt said.
I had no better idea.
Griffin counted off.
I ordered without looking back.
I swallowed.
I held my breath.
The first of the Escalades zoomed past us with a loudhooshwithout slowing even by a mile. If anything, the SUV sped up.
Hoosh, zipped the second SUV in a sweeping flash.
Hoosh, went the third.
I sucked in a shaky breath.
Layla asked.
Griffin replied before gunning Clyde.
I heard atatta-tat-tat. Then again,tatta-tat-tat. I rolled down the window.
Louder now,ta-ta-ta-ta, ta-ta-ta-ta-ta.
I asked.
Griffin said. Clyde surged forward faster, with Bonnie pacing us.
Layla protested, but her usual playful tone was starkly absent. Talking nonsense soothed her.
