The Shift: Book II of the Wildfire Saga (50 page)

As Chad watched, 13 looked up through her lashes at the cop and pressed her chest against the cop’s SWAT vest.
 
The cop’s eyes immediately dropped to her ample cleavage, clearly visible through her rain-soaked shirt and relaxed his grip on her wrists.
 
13 smiled and slowly walked her fingers down the cop’s chest until she could slide her right hand
 
down the front of his pants.
 
As he struggled to get to his feet, Chad couldn’t believe she was taking it this far.

Then it made sense.
 
13 caressed the cop just long enough for him to close his eyes and groan.
 
Then with a sudden upward jerk of her wrist, she brought a scream of pain out of the cop that rivaled the distant thunder.
 

The police officer roared and drew his left arm back, his fist clenched into a solid block of meat and bone.
 
Chad finally got to his feet and was only able to take one step before the police officer launched his first punch towards 13's delicate face.
 

Like a snake, she darted her head down and out of the way just as the cop’s fist smashed into the brick wall where her nose would have been.
 
He screamed in pain.

She launched herself forward connecting the top of her skull to the bottom of the cop’s jaw.
 
Chad heard the clack of his teeth as they came together a split-second before he saw the man's head snap back.
 
His eyes were open and bloodshot with rage.

Chad acted on instinct and jumped forward, throwing his cuffed wrists around police officer’s neck from behind.
 
The man was strong—incredibly strong—and as he started to jerk his head forward, Chad was worried he would actually be lifted off the ground.
 
Rather than wrestle the behemoth with his already battered ribs, Chad went limp, letting all his weight fall on the cop’s neck.
 
As the officer began to lean backward, Chad kicked him in the back of his knees with both feet.
 
The man had no recourse but to let go of 13 as he and Chad fell to the ground.

On impact, the cop pushed back on Chad, slamming painfully against something hard on the ground.
 
Chad worried he’d pass out from the pain in his ribs and he saw stars.
 
The cop used his weight to pin Chad to the ground as he tried to lift Chad’s cuffed wrists over his head.
 
Chad clenched his jaw and pulled as hard as he could against the handcuffs, hoping that if he applied enough pressure, the man might black out first.

13 straddled the cop’s chest and his struggling stopped in a heartbeat.
 
Chad opened his eyes and saw that 13 had removed his service revolver and pressed the tip of the barrel against the officer’s forehead.
 
He reluctantly let go of Chad's wrists and moved his arms to the sides, spread out as if he were floating on a raft.
 
Chad blinked in the rain and lay pinned beneath the massive thug.

"Careful with that thing, honey," the cop growled.
 
"You pull the trigger and that .357 slug’ll go right through my face and kill your boyfriend."
 
Chad only saw the rain-soaked back of the man’s head, but he could hear the snarling smile in his voice.

Oh shit.
 
He’s got a point.
 
He tried to wriggle free from the weight of the body on top of him, but the cop knew what he was doing.
 
He tensed his wide back, effectively pinning Chad amid the debris and trash.
 
Chad let his head fall back—it was becoming a painful chore just to breathe.
 
Rain poured into his mouth and nose.
 
He coughed and sputtered, hoping the standoff would end soon.

13 slowly climbed off the cop’s chest and rotated the gun so that the barrel was pressed into his temple instead of his forehead.
 
“Is that better?” she asked sweetly.
 
As lightning flashed, the smile vanished from her face.
 
She waited for the thunder to subside.
 
“Where is the airfield?" she asked in a voice edged with iron.
 

The cop remained silent.
 
Chad could see the thick muscles on the side of his neck bunch.
 
This guy is built like a Neanderthal…

The fading noise of the gunfight at the church competed with the diminishing thunder.
 
Chad thought it sounded like the fight was winding down.
 
The leading edge of the storm front had passed by, leaving a soft drizzle in its wake.

"I asked you a question," said 13.
 
“Nicely."

The cop chuckled.
 
"Go fuck yourself, sweetie.
 
Just make sure and do it where I can watch, okay?”

“Better than you," she replied with no trace of emotion.
 
Without another word, she shifted her aim and pulled the trigger.
 

The blast of the pistol at such close range shocked Chad and he jerked in surprise.
 
When his hearing returned, the police officer was howling in pain and pulled his bloody knee up to grip it with both hands.
 
"You
shot
me!
 
Fucking bitch!"

 
Chad smelled hamburger.
 
He leaned his head around the massive shoulder that blocked his vision and saw the gun pressed into the flesh of the cop’s temple.
   
“This is a six shot revolver.
 
Five bullets left.
 
I’ll shoot four more times before I shoot you in the head.”
 
She glanced down at the man’s chest.
 
“Where is the airfield, Officer Perkins?”
 

"For fuck's sake!
 
Jesus—look at the blood!" the cop cried.
 
Chad felt a warmth spread over his legs and realized the rain was diluting the cop’s blood and washing it all over him as well.

"What do you want to lose next?
 
The left knee?” asked 13.
 
The pistol drifted over the cop’s uninjured left leg.

"All right!
 
All right!
 
You made your point…"
 
The police officer hissed in pain and continued to examine his knee.
 
“Mosby’s got a plane over at the old cropdusting airstrip…"

The gunfire from the church slacked off for a moment and the only thing Chad heard was the rain pummeling the ground.
 
13 noticed.
 
She looked up toward the church and peered into the gloom.
 
She turned back to her hostage and snarled.

“Yes, we know.
 
Where?
"
 
She ground the barrel of the pistol into his wound.

Officer Perkins screamed in pain.
 
“Goddammit!
 
East side of town, just over the bridge…” he panted, trying to calm himself.
 
“There's a little dirt turn off—sign’s been missing for years…”
 
He moaned.
 
“It’s on the left."

“You got a car?" she asked.
 
Chad watched as she scooted forward, oblivious to the bloodied bandage tied around her leg.
 
She had reopened her wound and didn't even seem to notice.
 
She was certainly full of surprises.

"Yeah—other side of this building…"

A loud explosion echoed down the alley and black smoke swirled into the rain-filled sky.

Perkins laughed but it quickly turned into a coughing fit.
 
"That'll be one of the surprises we had waitin’ for your boys,” he choked out.
 
“Don't suppose there can be many of ‘em gonna survive this.”
 

When 13 looked unaffected, he hissed, “None of you are gonna get out of my town alive.”

She smiled sweetly.
 
"Neither will you."
   

“No—wait—” Chad screamed
w
hen he saw what she was going to do.
 
He was rewarded with a spray of blood and brain matter all over his face.
 
He kicked and pushed with all his might to roll the dead body off of him.
 
He scrambled to his feet and backed away from 13.

"Jesus
Christ!
 
Did you have to do that while he was on top of me?”
 
He slapped at his face as best he could to clear away bits of the cop’s cranial cavity and screamed again into the empty alley.
 
“Fuck!”

13 got to her feet and moved to his side.
 
"Are you okay?" she asked, all soft and full of concern.
 
She slipped the revolver under the waist of her pants and used both hands to examine Chad's face.
 
She gently wiped the blood from his brow.
 
"Are you cut?"

"No," said Chad in a sullen voice as he shrugged out of her ministrations.
 
"I'm fine!
 
That's not my blood—"

She threw herself into his arms and gave him a fierce, rain-drenched hug.
 
"
Tack Gud!
"

“What?”
 
Chad pushed his bound hands between them and pushed her back to arm’s length, peering at her through the rain.
 
"When this is over, you and I need to have a talk.
 
But first—can you get these damn things off me."
 
He held up the handcuffs.

Three more explosions in quick succession—all of them smaller and sharper then the big one—lit off from the direction of the church.
 
Black and brown smoke rose into the sky and the gunfire stopped.
 
The only sound they heard was the rain.

“I’ve got to get you out of here first.
 
I must get you to safety."
 
13 stepped away from Chad and dropped to her knees to rifle through the dead man’s pockets.
 
She emptied everything—his wallet, cell phone, keys, and unbuckled the belt before turning to unlock Chad’s handcuffs.
 

Chad rubbed his wrists and watched as she stood and fastened the cop’s utility belt twice around her own much thinner waist, pocketed her loot and holstered the revolver.
 
You just blew his brains out and now you’re taking everything he carried that could be useful without so much as a second thought.
 
Who the hell are you?
 
He looked at his own trembling hands, dripping blood and rain.
 
Just another near-death experience, eh?
 

Chad couldn't help himself—he stared.
 
God damn, she looks hot.
 
She held the squad car keys in her hand and rested her right hand on the grip of the revolver that nestled against the curve of her hip.
 
“Ready to take a ride?"

Chad had to smile at the impish grin that spread across her face.
 
"You have no idea," he said.

13 suddenly pushed past him and drew her gun.
 
"Someone's coming, go!"
 
With her left hand, she grabbed Chad's shirt and tried to push him down the alley.
 

Heavy footfalls in the wet trash approached at an alarming rate.
 
The survivors of the church battle had arrived.
 
Whoever they were, they were moving fast, not caring about stealth at all.
 
That could be good or bad.

Zuka’s voice rang out from the other end of the alley, "Mr. Huntley?
 
Mr. Huntley!
 
Can you hear me?"

13 immediately relaxed, but kept her gun ready.
 
She nodded to Chad.

"Over here!"
 
Chad called.

Zuka limped around the corner, rifle at his shoulder and paused as his eyes took in the scene.
 
He looked down and saw the cop, dropped his rifle to aim at the body, then stepped forward.
 
“Mr. Huntley,” he said, eyes still on the cop, “are you okay?"

"Yes," said Chad.
 
He pointed at the body.
 
"He's dead—she shot him.”

"Thought I heard something goin’ down back here."
 
Zuka took a knee next to the body and keyed his radio, the butt of his rifle on the ground.
 
“Actual, Zebra.
 
HVT acquired.
 
One block south."
 
He waited a moment, watching Chad.
 
“Roger that, he looks good to go.”
 

Zuka peered at the fire exit on the side of the alley.
 
The sign read:
Play it Again Records
.

“In the alley behind the record shop,” Zuka responded.
 
He listened for a moment, then: "Roger that."

Zuka stood and wiped the rain from his face.
 
"Captain Alston’s getting some wheels.
 
Let's head out to the street so we can figure out how the hell to get you two out of here."

"Your CIA man has a plane," 13 said.
 
"He told us how to find it," she said, motioning toward the cop’s body with the revolver.
 
In one smooth motion, she holstered the weapon.

Zuka looked from 13 to Chad, then down to the body at his feet.
 
The pavement, including most of the trash, was stained bright pink.
 
The rain was carrying most of the blood into a large puddle near an overwhelmed storm drain choked with trash.
 
Zuka grinned under his helmet as water dripped across his face.
 
"Nice work, ma'am."

13 smiled prettily.
 
She placed a hand on Chad's left arm.
 
The touch sent lightning up his arm.
 
"Come on, let’s go.”