To Trust a Stranger (41 page)

The poodle scrambled back onto the seat, unhurt. She'd been ridding with her paws on the dashboard, seeming to peer at the road in front of them with a concentration almost equal to his own, and Mac wondered just how much she understood. The green dot slowed dramatically, then stopped. Mac glanced down at the screen, registered that, then looked up again and stood on the brake. The Blazer was at the edge of a clearing. Up ahead, in the full glare of the moonlight, a dark-
colored
Ford Taurus pulled to stop beside a foreign luxury car-a Lexus, he thought, although he couldn't be positive because the Taurus was between him and it. This was it. Zero hour. If Julie was in there, this was his chance. Shoving the transmission into park, he stepped out of the car, closing the door as quietly as he could, leaving Josephine, who was watching anxiously through the windshield, behind. Crouched low, moving fast, gun drawn, he closed on the Taurus. There were three people inside. He could just barely make out the dark shapes of them. Julie was in the front passenger seat, pressed up tight against the window. He couldn't mistake her: her black half gleamed in the moonlight., Thank God, thank ...

A gunshot, muffled but unmistakeable, exploded inside the car. Julie screamed and dropped from view. Gone, just like that. Mac's heart stopped, he almost pissed his pants, and he gave a great leap forward, grabbing for the door handle, staying low. He yanked the door open just as another gunshot shook his eardrums. Julie tumbled out, falling backward, eyes and mouth wide and screaming as she hit the grass.

For a split second Julie simply lay where she had fallen, stunned. When the second shot exploded almost in her ear, she'd been curled into as tiny a ball as she could make of herself, head down, arms around her legs, pressed as far back against the hard barrier of the door as she could get. With her eyes scrunched shut, she'd felt a warm liquid spatter her legs. She'd gone all light-headed and bells had rung and lights had flashed and she'd stopped breathing. Then she had felt herself tumbling backward, falling into nothingness, into empty, open air. The thought that had run through her mind was that she'd been killed and was being sucked straight down to-heaven? She realized she was screaming only when Mac's face intruded between her and the sky. His hand wrapped around her wrist just as another gunshot exploded right over her head. Mac dropped her wrist and staggered back, cursing. Julie scrambled to her feet, crouching near the rear tire, ducking her head and covering it with her folded arms. Her heart was pounding so hard she had to be alive, she realized. She could feel her stomach churning, feel blood pumping through her veins. Oh, God, she was alive! She was alive!

“Run!” Mac screamed at her, or maybe it was the little voice again, because she didn't think she could hear anything outside her own head. Her ears were ringing so badly she might as well have been Quasimodo in the bell tower. But run was what she wanted to do anyway, and run was what she did. Mac grabbed her wrist again and took off, and she was with him every step of the way, abject fear giving wings to her feet. Mac kept turning around to snap off shots at Basta, who, she saw with a quick, terrified look over her shoulder, had emerged from the car now and was coming after them, crouched low like they were, shooting too. Basta dodged and ducked when one of Mac's shots kicked up turf near his feet, giving them a few extra, precious seconds. Suddenly they were out of the moonlight, running like all the hounds of hell were after them into the concealing shadow of the trees, where the Blazer loomed like a solid black box in front of them. Julie had never been so glad to see anything in her life. Mac let go of her wrist. “Get in!” This time there was no doubt the voice belonged to Mac. Julie jerked the passenger door open and dived inside, nearly crushing Josephine, who leaped nimbly into the back in the nick of time. Mac's butt hit the driver's seat at the same moment. Julie huddled in the seat, feet on the edge, fists pressed to her face, shaking and gasping, as Mac wrenched at the gearshift. She looked up just in time to see Basta coming after them, his bulky body silhouetted for a moment against the backdrop of the moonlit clearing. She screamed, the Blazer careened backward, and she was almost toppled from her perch, catching herself with a hand on the dash. When she looked again Basta was nowhere to be seen; she assumed that he was rushing toward them through the concealing darkness beneath the trees.

“He shot Sid!” It was a near-hysterical shriek. Her voice shook with horror. The first bullet, the one she'd thought was meant for her, had blown Sid's face off Just like that, his features had been blown away and replaced with an oozing crimson pulp that made her want to heave when she remembered it. The smell of blood-she'd never realized blood smelled like bad meat-had filled the air. Then Basta had turned the gun on her ....

“Who? Who shot Sid?” Julie screamed, ducking as bullets tore through the body of the Blazer with the fierce, sharp rat-a-tat of some kind of deadly popcorn. The windshield shattered; pellets of glass pelted them like storm driven hail. Mac cursed and drove, turned halfway around with his arm slung over the back of his seat, looking over his shoulder as the Blazer bumped and rocked and skidded backward down the little dirt road. Panting with a combination of fear and shock, Julie turned and looked that way too. . “Who shot Sid?” It was a roar.

“Basta! The hit man! The one-I bit his nose!” Another hail of bullets hit the Blazer. Julie dove screaming for the footwell. Then the gunfire stopped. Just like that. Nothing. The sudden silence was almost as terrifying as the thunder of bullets had been Cautiously she lifted her head. Either they were out of range of Basta couldn't see them, but Julie knew deep in every fibber of he being that he was still giving chase. As she crawled limply back into her seat, she realized that she was shaking like a leaf; adrenaline rushed through her veins, making her jump at every bump or sound.

“This Basta-is he the one shooting at us?”

“Yes!” The dirt road being too narrow to permit them to turn around, they were still flying backward without lights; how Mac saw to drive Julie couldn't imagine. The stockade of giant trees she had seen on the way in was rushing past on both sides, now reduced to a featureless blur. The trees melded seamlessly with the road and the night itself to her eyes. If they wrecked, Basta would catch up to them; at the thought, Julie went all light-headed, and her heart threatened to thump clean out of her chest. Oh, God, please, she didn't want to die like Sid.

“How did you get away from the cops?”

“I managed to persuade them to see reason.”

“They were dirty: they were taking bribes from Sid.”

“You know, I had begun to suspect that.” Miraculously, during the course of this conversation, they somehow managed to stay on the track. When the first glimmer of approaching headlights appeared through the woods Julie thought for an instant that Mac must have succumbed to human limitations and turned on the Blazer's lights. No such luck.

“Shit, “Mac said, and as Julie realized the truth she echoed the sentiment in her head. The headlights belonged to another vehicle, which was coming toward them from the direction of the road. The dirt track was too narrow to allow two vehicles to pass; trees formed a nearly impenetrable wall on both sides.

They were trapped.

“No,” Julie moaned, hanging on to the edge of her seat with both hands as she stared back at the oncoming vehicle.

“Hang on.”

Julie nearly bit her tongue as the Blazer veered. Mac, whose eyes were apparently a lot better than hers, sent them haring off the track to the left, somehow managing to find a space between the trees.

The good news was, they were now going forward. The bad news was, they didn't get far.

No sooner had the headlights passed them, continuing on up the track toward the clearing without pausing, which made Julie think they hadn't been seen, than the Blazer plunged nose-first into some kind of hole or ditch.

“Yow!” Julie was thrown violently forward and smacked her forehead hard on the dash. It took a couple of seconds for the stars she saw to recede. By the time they did, Mac was at her door, flinging it open and dragging her from her seat.

“We're stuck. Come on.” His voice was scarcely louder than a whisper. Head pounding, stomach churning, knees weak with fear, Julie nevertheless hit the ground running. Basta could be anywhere, near or far. He could be right behind the nearest tree. At any second he could open fire.

Against her will, Julie once again remembered Sid's destroyed face and had to fight back a wave of dizziness. Icy prickles of fear raced over her skin; gorge rose in her throat. Her hand welded to Mac's, she plunged through the forest like a frightened deer.

The next bullet might find her. Or Mac.

The realization kept her legs pumping as fast and furiously as her heart.

Seconds later Julie stepped on a rock, and nearly yelped in pain and surprise. Only the thought of Basta enabled her to bite back the sound and keep going with little more than a single, one-footed hop. It was only then that she realized she was barefoot: she had lost her shoes in the first wild rush toward the Blazer. The ground beneath her feet was slippery with leaves and sort of squishy, except for the occasional bruising rock. The humidity was thick as fog, and the smell of rotting vegetation hung heavy in the air. Under the trees, the night was so dark she could see Mac only as a dense shape plunging through the under growth just slightly ahead of her. All around, little glowing disks flickered on and off: fireflies. Mosquitoes were out, too. Julie could feel her self being bitten. She did not dare slap at them, for fear the sound of skin smacking skin would give them away. Although, unless Basta was right on their heels, he probably wouldn't hear. The night was alive with the whirr of insects, the eerie piping of tree frogs, the deep bas accompaniment of bullfrogs, the rustling of the forest itself Nature': chorus was so loud that their own breathing and the soft thudding of their feet against the ground was barely audible even to herself As she listened, it suddenly occurred to Julie that Mac must not be in as good a shape as he looked to be, because his breathing was labored. Really labored.

In fact, he was rasping like a dying man.

“Mac ... “ Alarmed, she meant to ask him if he was all right.

At that moment he plunged forward with a splash and would have fallen on his face if Julie hadn't been slightly behind him, hanging on to his hand for dear life, her weight enough to counterbalance his forward impetus.

“Puck,” he said, just as she found it too, her foot plunging through liquid to sink ankle-deep into muddy ooze. This time it was he who kept her from going down face-first, grabbing her arm and helping her keep her balance.

Julie stopped from sheer necessity. Her feet felt like they were mired in wet concrete.

“We've got to go back,” she whispered, clinging to his hand for balance and trying to turn around even as she spoke.

The mud-she thought it was mud, it felt like mud, squishy, gooey mud-was reluctant to release its grip. The water that covered it was knee-deep and warm. Its smell was the rotting vegetation smell that had struck her earlier, only stronger. Julie realized that they'd stumbled into one of the swamps with which the area abounded. Rushes and foxtails grew all around them, brushing against her each time she moved, towering above her head. Tiny eyes stared at them from the trees. Raccoons? Possoms? Beyond that, Julie didn't want to speculate.

“We can't. Look.”

Julie looked. Glowing disks about the size of softballs were bobbing behind them. Flashlights: she realized what they were as she saw a tree suddenly illuminated by a moving beam. They were just reaching the place where they had abandoned the Blazer, Julie calculated ....

“Josephine!” Horror struck through to her soul.

“She'll be all right. Nobody's after the dog. Come on, we've got to keep going. One good thing about this swamp: They won't come in here unless they have to.”

Mac pulled her on, his feet making squelching noises with every step that Julie hoped, prayed, couldn't be heard much beyond their ears. She splashed after him, hanging on to his hand, moving carefully, both to minimize the sound and to keep from falling flat on her face.

By now she was way beyond terror. She was going on pure adrenaline, with Sid's fate for an impetus. If they were caught, that was what would happen to them ....

Without warning, Mac went down on one knee. Tethered to him by their clasped hands, Julie was nearly pulled over the top of him. He let go, and she pushed herself erect with one hand on his back, barely hearing the steady stream of under-his-breath curses that he was letting fly with.

She was too busy looking fearfully over her shoulder at the oncoming flashlights.

Until she registered that her hand on his back was covered with a warm, sticky liquid. Lifting her hand, turning it over, she saw that her palm, which should have been a pale blur, was not. It was black.

Horror struck at her heart like a blade.

“Oh, my God, Mac,” she whispered. “You've been shot.”

33

H IS FUTURE WAS ON THE LINE. Hell, his life was on the line. Basta knew it, and it was all he could do not to panic.

He had to get Julie Carlson back and send her off to join her husband. As for the man who had snatched her right out from under his nose for the second time, he was dog food. Basta knew who he was now-Daniel's little brother.