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She spotted a sign and gave him cross streets.
Ramon shifted. “The old furniture store.”
“What?” She didn’t know what he meant by that.
Ramon gave a street name, then said, “Tell them to go there.”
Jax said, “Got it,” before she could even relay the information. He must’ve heard. “We’re getting directions to it.” He grunted again. “Five minutes.”
The wind struck the vehicle, and Kenna fought with the wheel. The cell phone slid from where she was holding it between her chin and her neck down to her lap, then hit the seat and fell on the floor.
She ignored it and gripped the wheel. “Which way?”
Wind buffeted the camper shell, and she fought to keep the truck straight. She actually thought it might be loose on one corner.
“Keep going.” Ramon pushed down on the gas pedal, and the needle passed forty.
“What are you doing? You’re going to crash us if you don’t ease off.” It was too dangerous.
“That’s the idea.”
“We can’t—” Kenna started.
He grabbed the wheel between her hands at the top of the wheel and jerked it to the right. They barreled through a chain-link fence, splitting the gate open. The truck bumped over uneven gravel and sprayed it behind them.
The trailing vehicle headlights flashed in the side mirror.
Kenna stared at the looming rundown building in front of them. “Slow down, Ramon.”
He pressed down on the gas even more.
“Ramon. Slow down. Hit the brake.” They headed right at a roll-up loading bay door. “Ramon!”
They crashed into the door, and it splintered.
Ramon shifted his foot to the brake.
Kenna held on to the wheel for dear life.
He jerked it to the left, and they slammed into debris as they went. The camper shell tore off the back of the truck and went flying. Clouds of dust filled the room, smearing across the windshield and making a white mess that obscured her view of the dark interior. Headlights lit up machines, but he steered them down the middle.
“You can’t possibly have a plan besides killing us.”
Ramon said, “Hang on,” then hit the brakes before she could ask what that was about.
Kenna split the difference between locking her arms straight and absorbing the sudden stop. Still, her head slammed forward onto the back of her hand. She blinked. Coughed, then sucked in air. “You could’ve warned me.”
Ramon grunted. “Sorry.”
Kenna twisted around to look at the doorway they’d made by punching through the loading bay door. Vehicle headlights filled the open space. “They’ll be here in a second.”
“Hopefully, the feds will be, too.” His face was far too pale, but there was no time to look at the wound and nothing to put on it. “Until then, I guess it’s on you to protect the traitor.”
Kenna shoved the door open. She climbed out with the rifle, brushed hair back from her face, and used some of the rainwater from the side of the truck to slick it down so it didn’t get in her eyes and cost her life. She headed for the back corner of the truck and stayed back for cover, but held the gun ready.
Two men appeared at the opening, lights on the front of their rifles switched on.
She squeezed off a shot and hit the first one, then aimed for the second. He dove back for cover. She put a couple of rounds in the wall beside where he’d been standing a second ago.
