“Fuck me,” I muttered, ducking my own head.
“Almost there,” Dad gritted out between clenched teeth, as he focused on keeping the truck on the road as we tried to outrun who I was now sure was The Collective.
“Where?” Isaac asked?
“That old manufacturing plant that’s a few miles up.”
“It’s abandoned, right?” he asked.
“A few years back. Hoping no one will be around,” Dad said in confirmation.
“If anyone is, it'll just be security,” I replied. “It’s a good spot for this.”
“Shouldn’t we just try to book it back to the city?” Isaac asked. “We get into a shootout and the cops are going to come sniffing around.”
“We kill these bastards and get out before they come,” I said. “I’m not letting them get the jump on us later.” My heart dropped into my ass as I realized there could be multiple groups going after our families right now. The idea of Devyn or Mom getting ambushed right now made a cold sweat break out on my skin. “They don’t leave that factory alive.”
“Agreed,” Dad said.
“Sounds good to me,” Isaac agreed, finally sounding less grumpy despite what was going on.
I pulled out my phone and called Ruck. “Collective is chasing us, heading to the old factory on Avondale Boulevard. Send someone to watch Devyn and Mom.” I hung up before he could answer as more bullets pinged off the truck. There wasn’t time to explain anything else to him. I’d have to fill him in later.
Ruck would handle the protection, and if there was time, send us backup. Though with how close The Collective was, I was thinking we were on our own.
I glanced over my shoulder to find my brother grinning. “Well, if nothing else, that’s knocked the pissy mood out of you.”
“I wasn’t pissy. Fuck off.”
My eyes moved to the road behind us. “They’re gaining on us, Dad.”
“Yeah, I know. This old pickup isn’t going to outrun those fucking SUVs. Make yourselves useful and shoot at them. Fuck!”
One of the SUVs rammed our truck from behind, forcing Dad to spin the wheel to keep the truck from fish tailing out of control.
“Now would be good!” he barked at us.
Turning in the seat, I aimed and shot at the driver, but didn’t hit him. Hitting a moving target when you were also moving was much harder than people realized. Now would’ve been a great time to have a rifle, but none of us had come today expecting trouble. That would be something I remedied in the future.No one was going anywhere without a fucking arsenal at their fingertips. But for now, all we had were our hand guns. We’d have to make do.
I focused on forcing the SUV to keep its distance or risk our rounds penetrating their windshield. It was the best we could do. We just needed to get to that factory and make a stand. Then we needed to get our asses back to our families.
CHAPTER 11
Bolo
“Fuck!” Isaac slammed his back into the wall as a hail of bullets flew past him.
The dumbass had been the slowest runner of the three of us so they’d all targeted him as we bolted out of the truck. That was saying something since Dad was like a hundred years old. Thankfully they’d been far enough behind us that they were just pulling into the lot as we were running into the factory and none of the rounds found their way into our hides.
“You just let a seventy-year-old man outrun you,” I scoffed.
“I’mnotfucking seventy, you ungrateful shithead!” Dad stared at me in disgust and shock. Then to Isaac he said, “You did let an old man outrun you, though.”
“Fuck you,” Isaac snapped at the same time. “I’m more of a long distance runner than a sprinter.”
They were both right. Dad was only in his fifties and Isaac could whoop my ass any day in any running event over a milelong. But—even when our lives were in danger—I couldn’t miss an opportunity to take a dig where I could.
“Seriously, fuck Relay,” Isaac huffed as more bullets sprayed through the door. “How is it the one damn day he’s not here this shit happens?”
