9 The Hitwoman's Downward Dog (17 page)

"I can't," Lucky countered. "It's a wall."

Struggling to turn around to see what they were arguing about, I noticed the flash of headlights of another vehicle heading toward us. Blinking rapidly, trying to focus better, I saw the wall Lucky didn't want to drive through. It was short, only four or five feet tall, but seemed to stretch forever.

Beside me, Joy moaned.

I glanced down and realized blood covered her forehead.

I looked up again at the headlights slowly rolling toward us. Our captors knew they had us trapped, so they were taking their time with their approach, toying with us.

"Out!" I ordered in the strongest voice I could muster. "Everyone out of the truck."

Armani and Lucky obeyed, but I had to help Joy, who was holding her head and staggering like a drunkard.

"What do we do, Maggie?" Armani asked.

"We get over the wall."

Lucky groaned. "They'll catch us."

"Not necessarily. C'mon, help me get them over."

Since Joy wasn't going to be of any help to anyone, we unceremoniously hefted and pushed her over. I winced as I heard her hit the ground on the other side of the wall with a solid thud.

It was just as challenging to get Armani over since she couldn't really use her bad leg or arm, but we managed it. Unlike Joy, she teetered atop the wall, straddling both sides.

"Now you," I told Lucky, lacing my fingers for him to step in so I could boost him over.

"What about you?" he asked.

"I'm getting back in the truck and driving straight toward that car that's coming," I told him. "Hurry up."

"But you'll be killed."

"It'll buy you guys some time. Now go."

I saw his hesitation and, once again, was struck with how he wasn't really such a bad guy despite having been adopted by a major crime family.

"They need your help," I told him, holding out my interwoven fingers.

"Be careful." With that, he stepped into my hands and I hoisted him over. He was helping Armani climb down as I raced around the truck and got behind the wheel.

"Are you sure this is the best plan?" God asked.

"It's the only one I've got. If you want out, now's the time to say."

"No way. Put the pedal to the metal."

Popping the truck into drive, I pressed the accelerator to the floor and hung on to the steering wheel for dear life as we careened, full speed, across the land separating us from those who wanted to kill me.

"Geronimo!" God shouted as the engine roared.

"Geronimo?"

"If it’s good enough for The Doctor, it’s good enough for me."

"Doctor who?"

"Exactly."

I gave up trying to make sense of what he was saying, white-knuckling the steering wheel as we hurtled toward the nearing headlights.

At the last second, the car full of killers swerved out of the way.

"Ha!" God crowed victoriously. "Chickens!"

I’d have liked to think that the men had been impressed by my nerves of steel, but I suspected their retreat had something to do with the red and blue flashing lights bouncing toward us.

The lizard noticed them too. "Beat it, man. It’s the cops."

"You watch
way
too much TV." I slowed down as a pair of police cruisers approached.

"How are you going to explain being here?" the lizard asked.

"I’ll try the truth."

"Half-truths."

Putting the pick-up into park and my hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, I did my best to look like a law-abiding citizen.

A trooper emerged from each car. They shared a look I couldn’t read, but I knew I didn’t like. When they drew their weapons and pointed them at me, I raised my hands, demonstrating I wasn’t armed.

"I’ve got a bad feeling about this," God murmured.

A niggling sensation tickled my gut. "Me too."

Then the shooting started.

"They’re trying to kill us!" God screamed, ducking for cover.

Sliding down in my seat, I fumbled with the gearshift as the windshield cracked.

"Get us out of here," the lizard begged.

"I’m trying."

Finally, the truck slid into reverse and I stomped on the accelerator. We flew backward. I tried to see where I was headed in the side-view mirror, but I didn’t dare take my foot off the gas pedal. "Why are they trying to kill us?"

"Maybe they’re on the O’Hara’s payroll."

The truck backed into something solid with a sickening crunch, slamming us to a stop.

Stunned by the impact, it took a second for me to catch my breath and clear my head.

"We’ve got to get out of here. We’re sitting ducks," the lizard hissed.

"What is it with you and all the bird references?" I stumbled out of the truck, just in time to see the cruisers start toward us.

"They’re coming," God warned from his vantage point on my shoulder.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." Unable to use the pick-up for escape, and knowing I didn’t stand a chance in the open field, I took off running toward the nearest structure that would offer shelter—an old, dilapidated barn.

"What are you doing?"

"Hiding," I gasped, thinking that if I was really a kick-ass Hitwoman, I wouldn’t have to explain myself to a lizard who wouldn’t stop talking.

"Ugggh." God groaned as I slipped inside the barn. "It stinks of hooved beasts."

"It’s a barn. By definition, it would be used to house barnyard animals." I searched desperately for something to use as a weapon, but the barn seemed to be empty except for the straw which covered the floor.

Hearing the motors of the car pull up to the barn, I ran to the back of the building and kicked out a loose board at the back.

"You're never going to be able to outrun them," God opined from his spot on my shoulder. "I fear this might be the end for you."

"Don't say that." But he was right, I wouldn't be able to outrun them, but maybe, just maybe, I could hide.

Instead of exiting through the hole I'd made in the wall, I turned back toward the center of the barn. Spotting a ladder, I scrambled up to a loft-like area, found the darkest area, and crouched down in the midst of a large pile of straw that poked and scratched. It wasn't much of a hiding space, but it was all I had.

I heard men, at least three conferring outside the barn. The door burst open, bouncing against the wall, the noise echoing in the emptiness.

"There," one of the cops shouted.

I held my breath, balling my hands into fists, preparing to fight to the death.

But no one climbed the ladder. Instead they moved to the spot where I'd kicked out the board.

"She got out the back," the other cop muttered.

"Get her," Jimmy ordered.

They ran back out the door.

I stayed where I was, afraid to move. My entire body itched from the straw. I pinched my nose, trying to stifle a sneeze.

The cars started up again and roared away.

And still I remained in my hiding spot, unconvinced they'd all left. A decision that seemed wise when I heard footsteps lightly padding below.

"They're gone, you can come out now," a voice that seemed familiar whispered.

Thinking my mind was playing tricks on me, I remained silent.

"Are you in here?"

"Are you going to answer him?" God asked.

I shook my head, not daring to speak.

The man began to climb the ladder. He'd find me. I rushed toward the ladder, ready to knock it and the climber to the ground.

As my hands hit the top of the ladder, he whispered, "Mags?"

I'd already hit the wood when I realized who it was. Carried by the momentum of the force I'd struck it with, the ladder began to tip backward, away from the loft. Desperately, I reached for it, almost falling off the edge. Through a stroke of luck, I caught it with one hand and somehow managed to drag it backward.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Patrick Mulligan asked, staring up at me wide-eyed.

"I thought you were trying to kill me," I explained weakly.

"I'm trying to save you. Can we get out of here now?"

Nodding, I swung a leg over and began climbing down despite the fact that my thighs felt weak and heavy. Reaching the bottom, I was surprised by the expression on Patrick's face when I turned to look at him. It looked a lot like fear. It made me feel even worse about the situation. Then he noticed the lizard perched on my shoulder and rolled his eyes.
That
reaction made me feel a teeny bit better.

He didn't say anything, just grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind him as he exited the barn. I wanted to ask how we were going to get away or how he'd found me, but I didn't dare speak. I just followed him, as skirting along the building, we moved back toward the pick-up truck.

We were almost there when something whizzed past my ear.

"Down!" Patrick tackled me as a flurry of gunshots filled the air, kicking up the dirt surrounding us.

"Aaaah!" God screamed, losing his balance as I fell to the ground.

I froze, unsure of where he’d fallen.

"Save yourself!" he shouted from what seemed quite a distance away.

Scrambling on my hands and knees, scraping them up in the process, I followed Patrick’s jean-clad butt as he retreated back to the barn.

Gasping, we practically fell back inside, cloaked in shadows and the scents of straw and livestock. Adrenaline pumping, hearts pounding, we stared at each other.

Wordlessly, Patrick pulled a gun out from the holster he had strapped to his ankle and moved to guard the door. He pointed for me to keep an eye on the back of the building. I shuffled through the straw, not sure how I could defend against and attack.

"Is Armani here?" he whispered.

"She was. Joy too, but they jumped over the wall. I’m hoping they all got a way." I hesitated for a moment.

"All?" Suspicion made his tone sharp.

"Lucky O’Hara is with them," I admitted as I stubbed my toe on something.

We both groaned. Him at the revelation that Lucky was involved, me because I’d hurt my big toe.

"I think he’s on our side," I told Patrick.

"Our side?" He glared at me. "What’s our side? Because from where I stand, it’s us against them."

"He was helping Joy," I replied weakly, bending over to trace whatever it was I’d tripped over. It was a wooden handle of some sort. I gave it a tug, but it didn’t budge. "What are they doing out there?"

"Surrounding the place." His voice was so cold and grim it sent a shiver down my spine.

"How many are there?"

"Four."

"We could take four," I said, my bravado ringing false in my own ears.

"We’re not making it out of here, Mags."

I shook my head. "You’re wrong. Katie needs me. I’m not dying here."

The handle moved, a section of the floor lifting up with it.

"It’s a trap door," I whispered excitedly.

Patrick hurried over. Flipping on his cellphone to use the light to illuminate the space I’d revealed, we were able to see it was a small root shelter.

"We could hide here," I said hopefully.

"We’ll be trapped."

"Only if they found us."

He pointed to the straw I’d displaced when opening the hatch. "They’re going to find us."

I hung my head, surrendering to the crushing despair I heard in his voice. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

"Mags." The tips of his fingers caught my chin, gently forcing my head back so that I was looking up at him. "Before you, I hadn’t felt alive for a long time. I’d do anything to protect you, but…" He kissed me with such tenderness I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I wanted that moment of feeling like the most cherished person on the planet to last forever.

But it couldn’t.

"Anything?" I asked, tearing my mouth from his.

"What?"

"You’d do anything to protect me?"

He nodded.

"Then let me hide."

He shook his head. "It won’t save you."

"No." I took a deep breath. "But you can. If I hide in there and they find the spot, they’ll try to open the door. They’ll be distracted. You can pick them off one at a time."

"One guy, maybe two," he agreed, "But the chance of getting all four?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

Grudgingly, he shook his head.

"Then we do this my way. Your best vantage point will be up in the loft. Go."

"Listen to you, all expert on tactics and shit now." He chuckled, moving toward the ladder leading to the loft. "Keep as far away from the hatch as you can."

"Well, duh," I countered, a zing of excitement shooting through me despite the danger.

Patrick climbed the ladder and I descended the few steps into the root cellar, pulling the trap door closed on top of me, plunging the cool space into total darkness. Blind, I felt my way to the spot I hoped would be protected from stray bullets.

Forcing myself to take slow, deep breaths, I tried to control the panic that threatened to suffocate me in the inky blackness. I may do a lot of stupid things, but I’m not as dumb as I often seem. I knew there was a good chance that this crazy plan of mine wouldn’t work, but I was going to do everything in my power to increase my chance of survival.

Footsteps echoed and scraped overhead.

The men had entered the barn.

I strained to hear where they were. I heard voices, low and angry. Fear soured my stomach and I had to swallow hard to keep from retching.

Reaching back to brace myself against the wall, my right hand brushed up against something metallic. Exploring it with fingers, I realized that the metal was attached to a wooden pole. Another pitchfork? I carefully tried to lift it and it moved easily toward me.

I had a weapon.

Just in time too, because I could hear the hatch being opened.

Clutching the tool tightly, ignoring the splinters digging into my palm, I held my breath, every muscle in my body tightening as I prepared to fight for my life. "Please let Katie be okay," I prayed silently. "Let her be safe and happy and loved."

"Come out of there," Bubba ordered.

I realized they didn’t know how small the space was and were leery about Patrick and me ambushing them. They were afraid to come down.