AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Are you all right?” John shouted as he shifted into reverse. The gate spun and slid to the ground. He shifted gears again and the car shot forward, bumping over the gate, metal bars clanging.
“Yeah,” she yelled, but she didn’t know if he heard her over the gunfire. He wasn’t returning the fire, using all his concentration to drive. She fumbled for the two weapons in the folds of her wrap; the first one she touched was the big one the Company man had been carrying. She got to her knees as she thumbed off the safety.
“God damn it, stay down!” John roared, reaching for her as if he would shove her back into the floor.
“Just drive!” She jerked away, wrapped both hands around the heavy weapon, and began firing out the window. Even if she didn’t hit anyone, return fire would at least make them duck for cover. If she didn’t do something, the car, with them in it, would be shot to pieces.
The heavy weapon bucked in her hand, the deep cough deafening her as hot casings ejected into the car. One bounced off her bare arm, leaving behind a sting.
The car wasn’t running as smoothly as before; it jerked and hesitated, the engine cutting out. Some of the bullets had hit something critical but at least they were off the estate grounds. More shots zinged after them, but they sounded like handguns, which meant the shots didn’t have their range. “We have to ditch the car,” John said, turning his head to check behind them. The rearview mirror was nothing but a shattered metal frame, the mirror blasted into tiny pieces all over them.
“Where?”
“As soon as we’re out of sight. With luck, they won’t find the car until morning.”
Niema peered over the shredded remains of the seat back. The estate was lit with so many lights it looked like a miniature city. Dozens of lights bloomed as she watched, neatly spaced apart in pairs—headlights. “They’re coming,” she said.
They went around a curve, and a thick stand of trees hid the estate from sight. He drove off the road, slowing so the tires wouldn’t churn up the ground, easing the heavy vehicle into the trees. They bumped over limbs and rocks, and bushes scraped at the once-pristine paint job.
He didn’t touch the brake pedal, just in case one of the taillights was still working. When they were far enough off the road that passing headlights wouldn’t glint on metal, he stopped and killed the engine. They sat in silence broken only by the engine pinging and hissing, listening to the pursuing vehicles roar past their hiding spot.
They were less than a mile from the estate. “Now what?” she asked, her voice sounding funny, but then her ears were still ringing from the gunfire. The car interior stank of burnt gunpowder and hot metal.
“Do you feel like a nice run?”
“It’s my favorite thing to do in the middle of the night, wearing sandals and a two-thousand dollar dress, with a hundred guys chasing and shooting at us.”
“Just be glad the sandals aren’t high-heeled.” He rapped his pistol barrel on the inside lights, shattering covers and bulbs so there wouldn’t be any betraying light when they opened the doors.
Gingerly she climbed up from the floor. Shards of glass dusted the seats, her shoulders, her hair. It was very dark under the trees. The door on her side wouldn’t open; a bullet had probably hit the lock mechanism. She crawled over the gear shift, glass tinkling and gritting with every movement she made.
John got out and reached in, bodily lifting her out of the car and standing her on her feet. “Shake,” he directed.
They both bent over, shaking their heads and flopping their arms and clothes to dislodge any clinging bits of glass. Her arms and shoulders were stinging a little, but when she cautiously felt them her fingers came away dry, so at least she wasn’t bleeding. It was a wonder they were even alive; not being cut by that hail of glass went beyond wonder into miraculous.
But when they straightened, her eyes had adjusted more to the darkness and she saw that half of John’s face was darker than the other half. Her stomach plummeted. “You’re hit,” she said, fighting to keep her voice even. He couldn’t be shot. He couldn’t. Something vital in her depended on his being okay.
“By glass, not a bullet.” He sounded more irritated than anything else. He took the silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and held it to his forehead. “Do you have both pistols?”
“They’re in the car.” She leaned forward into the car and retrieved both weapons. “What about my tools? Leave them?” She definitely didn’t want to lug them around.
“Hand them here.”
She gave him the velvet pouch, heavy with tools. He took the tools out and threw them, one by one, as far as he could into the trees and underbrush. If the bag of tools was found, Ronsard would wonder what they had been used for, and since they had been spotted coming out of his office he would then no doubt have a complete physical search done of all the wiring, and he would find the bug. A physical search was the only way to find it, but then no bug could be hidden when the wires themselves were examined.
“Got your wrap?”
“Why do I need it?”
“Because it’s black and will hide some of that skin you’re showing.” She got the wrap and her evening bag out of the car, though she had to gingerly feel around until she found them. The evening bag was useless; there wasn’t anything in there they could use, not even money. All her money, passport, everything, were back in her room. She wasn’t worried about the passport; the name on it was false, and John would get them back into the country even without one, but money would have come in handy.
John took the bag from her, but instead of throwing it away he tucked it in his pocket. “Come on.”
Running in the woods in the dark was too dangerous; they risked turned ankles at least, and possibly broken bones, so they picked their way through the trees and underbrush, pausing every so often to listen for pursuit. They could hear traffic on the road, growing more and more distant as they angled away from it. They couldn’t hope that Ronsard’s men would be stymied for much longer, though.
They came out of the woods onto a secondary road. “We’ll follow this for a while,” he said. “It’s easier traveling, and while it’s dark we can see them a lot sooner than they can see us.”
“Are we going anywhere in particular, or just running?”
