A series of angry thumps hit the side of the pickup as Tierney slid off the shoulder and onto the grass. She threaded it through a narrow space between the trailer and a large pine, exchanging paint and most of Nick’s side mirror. The pieces flew backwards, bouncing along the grass as she yanked the handbrake, whipped the Silverado into a controlled slide.
The vehicle shuddered to a halt, brakes burning, more smoke pouring off the tires. Through the window, Sloane dropped into a crouch, pistol up, sights trained on the door as she waited, everything locked in place.
Tierney didn’t give the woman a second glance, just shoved her door open, stepped out. “You coming, or are you waiting until after these assholes chew through another few mags?”
Sloane inhaled, eyes narrowed, mouth gaped open as she rose, booked it over to the truck. “Tierney?”
“It’s been a while. Get in. Nick’s all yours, though, if he dies on my watch, I’m going to pull over and kill him, myself.”
Sloane tossed her bag in the back, then hopped in, her gaze clashing with Nick’s as he dropped a merc trying to flank them. She frowned, already rummaging through her kit. “Christ, you look even worse than in Prague.”
He smiled, her voice easing the tension, the pain, everything washing into gray. “I survived that one.”
“Barely.”
Tierney slammed the truck into drive, screeched out amidst a volley of gunfire. “It won’t take them long to move that truck — follow.”
Sloane glanced out the window. “Any idea where we’re headed? If this curls back onto the main thoroughfare?”
“It does…” Tierney glanced at Nick’s leg, then over to Sloane. “Just not quick enough.”
Sloane tipped Nick’s chair back, practically laid on top of him to access his thigh. “Bodie called Raven’s Watch. They should be headed our way. If we can get a call out…”
“They can give us a lift.” Tierney smiled, grabbed her cell. “Hold on, Nick. Looks like this ride isn’t over yet.”