Bug Man Suspense 3-in-1 Bundle (95 page)

Just then a car shot past them from the opposite direction. The headlights illuminated the truck cabin for an instant and Nick saw Alena's face clearly for the first time; there were purplish-black bruises under both of her eyes and across the bridge of her nose. “Did he do that to you?”

She looked at her reflection in the rearview mirror. “I bumped into something.”

“Were you driving at the time?”

“I don't want to talk about it. Did you get a look at that car? Was it a cop?”

Nick turned and saw red taillights fading in the distance. “I don't think so. He's not stopping, and a cop would pull us over for sure at this speed. Why is it you can never find a cop when you need one?” He looked and saw that the car behind them was steadily gaining even though Alena had the gas pedal pushed to the floor.

“An
old woman
killed my father?” she said under her breath. “But why in the world would she—”

“Watch the curve!”

Alena jerked the wheel and the truck swerved wide, crunching and grinding onto the shoulder and fishtailing twice before the tires finally grabbed the asphalt and straightened again. “Stop yelling! I saw the stupid curve, okay?”

“Were you planning to turn, or did you know a shortcut across that field?”

“Can you do any better?”

“I can't do much worse.”

She glared at him and pointed to her nose. “See this? I did this to
myself
—I slammed my own face into a wall to make my nose bleed. Now do you really want to make me angry?”

Nick settled back in his seat.

“We need to find a gravel road,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because the graders come through every spring and level the road surface here—it leaves a layer of loose gravel on top. We could lose him—it's like driving on marbles if you don't know what you're doing.”

“Do we know what we're doing?”

She turned sharply and the car veered onto an even smaller road—a narrow gravel two-lane that wound back and forth and began to climb steadily into the mountains.

“Do you know where this road goes?” Nick asked.

“Up.”

“Thanks.”

He looked out his window and saw that the hills were quickly becoming steeper and there were no protective guardrails anywhere in sight. “Do we have air bags?”

She didn't answer.

“I'll bet he has air bags.”

“Nick,
shut up
.”

He turned and looked back; the BMW was so close now that he could see Riddick's silhouette hunched behind the wheel. “We've got to widen our lead,” he said.

“Thanks for the helpful tip. Got any bright ideas?”

“I'm working on it.”

Suddenly they heard the engine rev and felt the truck lurch forward, as though a giant had lifted the truck by the bumper and let it drop. It was Riddick—he had closed the gap between them and bumped them from behind.

“He's trying to push us over the edge!” Alena shouted.

“Slam on the brakes and make him run into us,” Nick said. “It might wreck his engine—then we can pull away.”

“Trygg is in the back—the collision could kill her. And what if we wreck our truck but not his engine? Then we
can't
pull away.”

“Good point. I'll keep working on it.”

“How close is he right now?”

Nick looked. “Our bumpers are almost kissing. Why?”

“Hang on!”

Alena steered the truck directly toward a sheer drop-off, then at the last possible moment cut the wheel hard and let the tail swing into the turn. The cab slumped precariously to the right as the rear wheel slipped off the shoulder and spun in midair before the truck pulled itself back onto the road.

“Did it work?” Alena shouted.

“That depends. Were you trying to make me wet my pants?”

“Did he go over the edge?”

Nick looked again. “No, but it looks like he's stopped. I think he dropped a wheel off the shoulder—he's trying to get back up onto the road.”

“That should buy us a few minutes.”

“Let's hope so—I think we're going to need it.”

They followed the winding road up into the mountains for another fifteen minutes, constantly cutting across the inside lane to pick up speed while praying that no cars were approaching from the opposite direction. Nick kept watch out the passenger window, searching for any sign of headlights rounding the bend behind them. Then he noticed something; they seemed to be slowing down. Even though Alena had the accelerator pushed to the floor, the truck was gradually losing power.

“Can't we go any faster?” he asked.

“It's the altitude. Old truck, old carburetor—there's not enough air.”

“This is no good—he'll catch up to us for sure at this pace.”

“The back road into my place is just a few miles ahead.”

“Is there a gate?”

“Just like the one on the other side.”

“Is it locked?”

“Yes.”

“Ram it—we sure don't have time to stop.”

A few seconds later, Nick saw the trees light up in the distance behind them. It was Riddick—and he was coming fast.

“He's back.”

“There's the gate—hang on!”

“I hate it when you say that.” Nick braced himself against the dashboard.

She cut the wheel hard and accelerated directly into the gate. The metal poles bent back like pipe cleaners and the chain-link fence stretched like a fishnet under the weight of a record haul—until it suddenly gave way and snapped, raking over the hood of the truck and curling away from the road. Alena sped up the road toward the trailer— but before the truck had even rounded the last bend they could see Riddick's headlights lighting up the woods behind them.

“This is going to be close,” Nick said. “When we reach the clearing just stop the truck anywhere—we'll grab Trygg from the back and make a run for the trees.”

“Got it.”

Seconds later the truck burst from the woods and sped into the clearing. Alena slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop midway between the trailer and the kennels—and when she did she saw the lifeless form of Acheron still lying near the trailer door.

Nick threw open his door and jumped out. “Let's go! I'll get the dog!”

Alena opened her own door and looked at the kennels, where thirty anxious dogs stared back at her, eagerly wagging their tails.

“I'll get the others,” she said.

“What? Alena, don't—there isn't time!”

“I'm not leaving them,” she shouted, starting toward the kennels.

Nick dropped the tailgate and let Trygg jump out, then turned and ran toward Alena. He reached her just as she was lifting the latch on the first of the kennels; he grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around.

“Leave them! Come on!”

“No! He'll threaten them just like he did before—he'll kill them all if we don't come out of the woods!”

“That's a chance we have to take!”

“I won't leave them locked up again! I won't let them die like this! Let go of me!”

Nick looked back at the road—he could see Riddick's headlights flickering through the trees and he could already hear the sound of the BMW's approaching engine. What was he supposed to do now—throw Alena over his shoulder and carry her kicking and screaming into the woods? She was right—Riddick would use the dogs as hostages and he would kill every one of them to try to force Nick and Alena out of hiding. Alena knew it, and Nick did too—the difference between them was that Nick was willing to let it happen. The lives of a few stray mongrels in exchange for the lives of two human beings: That was an acceptable price to him—but not to Alena. These dogs
were
her life, and there was no sense arguing about it.

He let go of her arm.

Alena turned back to the first kennel and Nick hurried over to the second—but before either of them could lift the latch on the gates, Riddick's BMW shot out of the woods and skidded to a stop behind them.

Riddick jumped from the car and charged toward them with a gun in his hand. Trygg began to bark viciously, crouching low and preparing to attack.

Riddick aimed the gun at the dog. “Call him off or I'll kill him—do it now.”

Alena snapped her fingers and commanded the dog to be silent.

Now Riddick pointed the gun at Nick. “I knew you were going to be trouble. How did you find her, anyway?”

Nick didn't answer.

Riddick glanced down at the dog. “So that's why you brought the dog along. He's the one, isn't he—he's the cadaver dog.”

“She,” Alena corrected.

Riddick shook his head. “You'd never think a mutt like that could do anything.”

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Nick said. “I thought you would have learned that from the Bradens.”

Riddick shrugged. “I guess good breeding isn't everything.”

“It isn't anything,” Alena said. “What matters is what's inside you.”

“Well, here's what's inside me.”

He widened his stance and slowly raised the gun.

42

“I wouldn't do that.”

The voice came from the direction of the trailer. All three of them turned and looked. Nathan Donovan was standing in the doorway with his own gun raised and leveled at Riddick's head.

Nick heaved a sigh of relief. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Got a call from your pastor friend,” Donovan said without taking his eyes off Riddick. “Where've you been, Nick? I've been waiting here for hours.”

“I've been a little busy,” Nick said.

“Me too. Ever heard of a cell phone?”

“I left it in my car.”

“That's the bad thing about a cell phone—you have to have enough intelligence to keep it with you.”

“Someone's a little grumpy.”

Donovan addressed Riddick now. “I know you—you're that private security guard I met in John Braden's office. I hate to break it to you, ace, but you just blew your chances for a job as security guard at the Patriot Center. Too bad—I think you were qualified.”

Riddick didn't reply—he just stared at Donovan and blinked.

“I've seen that look before,” Donovan said. “Right now you're running through your options, and you just don't have many. You can shoot Nick if you want to—”

“Donovan. Hold it.”

“Relax, Nick—he won't do it. He knows that if he does I'll put a bullet through his head.”

“That's a big comfort,” Nick said.

“Now he's wondering if he can get off two shots—one at you and one at the lady there. It's possible, if he speed-fires—but he knows I'll still kill him where he stands, so what's the point? What he's really dying to know is if he can turn and get off a shot at me before I fire at him. Let me answer that one for you: No—it's just not possible. The way I see it you're pretty much screwed—and you know it too. So here's what I want you to do: Slowly lower your arm to your side and let the gun drop to the ground. Don't bend your arm; don't turn toward me; don't make any sudden moves. And if I even think I see the look in your eye that I've seen a dozen times before, I'll empty my clip into you—and believe me, at this range I won't miss. Do it right now—lower the gun slowly—let it drop. C'mon, kid, you've used up your stupid quota for the month—do something smart for a change.”

Riddick hesitated for a moment—then slowly lowered his arm and let the gun fall from his hand.

The moment he did so, Alena lifted the latch on the gate and swung it open wide. The hysterical dogs immediately scrambled from the kennel and began to bark furiously at Riddick—all but one. The enormous black Phlegethon spotted the only armed man left among them and broke away from the pack to charge across the clearing at Donovan.

“Whoa!” Donovan shouted, taking a step back. “Call off your horse! Tell him I'm one of the good guys!”

Alena clapped her hands loudly, but Phlegethon was in a frenzy and failed to respond to her command. He continued to lumber forward, quickly gathering speed, and Donovan had no choice but to turn his gun on the advancing dog. He fired a warning shot into the ground, but the dog didn't even flinch—so he raised the gun and pointed it directly at the dog's head.

“Don't shoot him!” Alena screamed.
“Please!”

Donovan looked incredulously at Alena, then down at the charging animal that was almost on top of him—and at the last moment he raised the gun and pointed it into the sky.