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“Get down,” Jack whispered as he pulled me to the ground amongst the scrub brush.
It took a couple of tension-filled moments until the vehicle sped past us. Turns out it was pickup truck. We stayed still until the engine was just a whisper in the distance, and then Jack propped himself up on his arm to look.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“What?”
“They’re turning around.”
Five hundred feet down the highway, the red tail lights suddenly swung around and were replaced by two bright dots of white.
“Could it be Kade?” I asked.
“…I don’t know.”
“Who else could it be?”
“It could be Lou, or one of his thugs.”
“But how would he know we’re here?”
“Maybe they killed Kade and got his cell phone. Maybe they heard the message,” Jack said grimly.
I was sorry I’d said anything.
The truck didn’t move – it just stayed there on the road and flicked its lights on and off.
“Hold on,” Jack said, and pulled his pistol out of his jacket pocket.
“What are you doing?!”
“Cover your ears.”
I clapped my hands to either side of my head, and Jack fired the gun close to the ground so the muzzle flash wasn’t visible.
BLAM!
A few seconds later, another gunshot rang out in the distance.
Crack!
Then the truck began rolling towards us at a reduced speed.
“Stay here,” Jack said, leaving me on the ground as he stood up.
“Wait!”
“I think it’s Kade – but in case it’s not, get your gun ready,” Jack warned.
I swallowed, my mouth dry, as I pulled my Glock out of my jacket pocket.
The truck sped up as Jack walked towards the road, then stopped a hundred feet away.
Suddenly a voice called out, flat and unemotional. “Need a ride?”
77
We piled into the cab of the truck with me in the middle between Jack and Kade.
