Page 30 of Trapped Truth

“Do you need more medication?” Ember helps a wincing Axel climb into the car.

“Nah, no more meds. It’s not so bad.”

“You can barely walk,” Hyland rumbles unhappily.

“A night in my own bed and one of Mary’s bagels, then I’ll be ready to kick my dickhead brother’s ass,” Axel seethes, his proclamation made through locked teeth. “Bollocks, that hurts.”

“Just take it slow.” Ember helps to position him then fastens his belt into place. “Okay, relax. You’re in.”

“Thanks, dimples.”

Once everyone is loaded up, I pull back onto the main road. In the dead of night, there’s not much traffic. It’s mostly freight haulage and large, obnoxious lorries carrying deliveries from north to south. We should be home by the time dawn rolls in.

“Here.” Hyland passes a bag bulging with food into the back. “We got a variety.”

“Any vodka?” Axel whimpers.

“Not for you, pup. I can see the size of your doped up pupils from here.”

“I have a hole in me, dickhead. Next time you’re shot, I’m gonna make sure you’re miserable too.”

“Hell no.” Ember rifles through the bag. “No more getting shot.”

“What about shooting someone?” Blaine supplies in a rare flash of levity.

“That’s permissible. Under the right circumstances, obviously. No kneecapping each other or assassination attempts. Shooting the enemy is fine by me.”

“Noted,” he drones.

“That doesn’t include your teammates, Blaine. No one in this car.”

“I told you, sweetheart. Only if they start it.”

At a chilling flash of gooseflesh over my arms and neck, I tune out their sniping. The road ahead is unchanged, a couple of haulage trucks hogging the middle lane, but that’s nothing new. There are still a few hours off daybreak, and other passenger vehicles are minimal.

Yet there is one that stands out.

Headlights beam through our rear window as a truck accelerates up behind us, creeping ever closer. As my eyes adjust, I can make out a flash of navy blue. That’s when cold horror sneaks in.

“Em…” I keep my stare fixed in the mirror. “Is that the truck from the rest stop?”

“Where?” She sits ramrod straight, head on a swivel.

“Directly behind, tailgating us.”

“What truck?” Hyland barks while twisting in his seat.

“I can’t make out the plate, but I think it’s them.” Ember’s tone is grim. “There was a suspicious vehicle when we refuelled, but they left. We assumed it was a false alarm.”

When I lay down on the accelerator, there’s a momentary beat of relief until the truck soon follows. A brick falls to the pit of my stomach. They’re definitely tailing us. Something tells me it’s not kids looking to score another make-out video to send to their friends.

“I’m going to get ahead of these lorries, put some obstacles between us.” I focus on our escape route ahead. “Hy, there’re two semi-automatic pistols in the glove compartment. Be ready for their advance.”

The truck temporarily disappears behind a haulier but soon revs its engine to catch up to us. I clutch the wheel tight, swerving and weaving between large trailers and several full-length lorries, attempting to throw our tail off to no success.

“Are we sure the directors didn’t send backup to bring us home?” Axel moans from his slumped over position.

“Not without telling us,” I spit back.