Chapter 17
Sam had taken a bullet in his right shoulder. He grimaced in pain. He saw the direction the bullet came from and swerved off the road behind a clump of trees. He stopped the vehicle.
“They moved position,” he said, reaching his hand into his coat and feeling the wound. “I thought we had another mile before we reached their line of sight. Dammit. They knew we were coming down this road and they moved their position.”
“How badly are you hurt?” she asked.
“I can drive,” he said.
“No, you can’t,” she said. “You’re hurt. I’ll drive.”
“Like hell you will,” he said.
“Sam, you’re hurt...”
“I can’t protect you here,” he said. “We have to move. If we don’t move they’ll come for us. We’ll be sitting ducks. We have to move.”
“Grab me a heavy bandage from the back, will you? I need to put some pressure on this and slow the bleeding.”
“I’ll get it out of your bag,” she said.
“Stay back there. You need to get in back on the floorboard again.”
Vandy retrieved the bandage and handed it to him, but did not move to the back seat, “I’m staying up front with you.”
“No, Vandy, please do as I say,” he pleaded. “I can’t protect you if you don’t do as I say.”
“You’ll be killed, you big fucking idiot,” she cried. “You’re sacrificing yourself for me. You’re going to drive straight into them. You’ll be a sitting duck. I can’t allow you to just die for me.”
“Vandy, please.”
“You knew this was going to happen the whole time, you dumb asshole,” she screamed. “I can’t let you die for me.”
“There’s no other choice. You see that ridge up ahead?”
“Yes,” she said.
“From the angle of the shot that hit me, I can tell, they have moved position. For the next mile, this Tahoe is going to be moving pretty much toward them. We have to make it to the bend or we’re dead. They know this. I have to drive. The safest place for you is in the back on the floor board.”
“I’m not getting back there,” she said. Tears began to stream down her cheeks.
“Please do it Vandy,” he begged. “Do it for me.”
“No, I won’t,” she cried out.
“Vandy, if I know you are back there out of harm’s way I can do this,” he said. “I can make it to the bend.”
“They will kill you,” she said.
“If you do as I say, I can get you to safety. I know it. Please, Vandy. It’s the only way.”
“Why would you do this?”
“In my heart, I’ll always be a Ranger. This is what we do. And besides, I’m beginning to actually like you.”
“Sam…”
He smiled, “Now move.”
She threw her arms around him, and began to kiss his mouth and his face. Sam tasted the tears that had streamed down her face.
“I’d love to do more of this,” he said, “but we have to move… now.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, kissing his mouth one last time before releasing him. “I got carried away.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “Now get in the back. Take my phone with you. Keep checking for signal.”
Vandy winced in pain herself as she crawled in the back. She got into position. Sam pulled away.
“Hang on,” he said. “They showed me earlier they have trouble with moving targets. I’m going to go fast and swerve left and right. I’m gonna see if we can make this a harder target to hit.”
Sam threw the car into gear and hit the gas. The rear of the vehicle slid as the tires spun in the ice but Sam managed to maneuver the Tahoe back onto the road. The Tahoe accelerated down the snow-covered road dangerously fast. The first bullet bore through the hood. Sam prayed that the shooters didn’t hit something critical and caused the engine to fail. The next bullet smashed through the windshield on the passenger side and clear through the passenger seat—right where Vandy had been sitting just a moment earlier.
Vandy screamed when the bullet passed all the way through the passenger seat. “Holy shit! That would have killed me.”
The vehicle was picking up speed, moving over 60 mph now, dangerously fast for an icy road. He was swerving to the left, then to the right. It was harder to control the vehicle and slowing the Tahoe’s momentum but he was sure it was making them a harder target to hit. He looked ahead. Three-quarters of a mile to go before the bend. The next bullet demolished the driver’s side mirror. Sam slid as far down into the seat as possible, trying to make himself as small of a target as possible. He scrunched down low enough to barely be able to look over the dash to see to drive.
The Tahoe passed the shooter’s position, making the shooting angle different. The vehicle’s driver’s side would now be most exposed. Sam guessed the shooter was not more than 50 yards away. This was his moment of truth, Sam thought. This is where he would be most vulnerable.
Sam heard a bullet piercing metal; the front left quarter panel had been hit. Another sound of a bullet passing through metal—the rear quarter panel.
Less than a half a mile, he thought.
“Just a little longer Vandy,” he yelled. “Hold tight.”
“I holding on as fucking tight as I can!” she screamed.
Two more bullets went through the front quarter panel and into engine of the Tahoe. Sam saw white steam spewing from the holes. They had hit the radiator. They didn’t have much time left before the vehicle would overheat and the engine would die. In the next quarter mile Sam decided to hit the gas and drive as straight as he could.
The next bullet hit the driver side door; the bullet went clean through and lodged in Sam’s left side. He yelled out in pain.
“Sam! Sam!” screamed Vandy, realizing he’d been hit. She sat up to see how badly he was hurt.
“Get down!” Sam howled. “We’re almost there. We should get a cell signal any minute now. Call 9-1-1.”
Three more bullets pelted the driver side door. One of them went into the seat, one hit Sam in his left hip; the third lodged in his left thigh.
The blood from his left shoulder was gushing. That bullet had hit an artery, he thought. He fought to maintain consciousness.
He thought to himself, just a hundred more yards, just a hundred more yards.
“Almost there,” he gasped, his consciousness beginning to wane. He floored the gas pedal.
Thirty more yards, he thought.
Two more shots pelted the Tahoe. One of them lodged in another area of Sam’s side. He groaned.
Twenty more yards… ten.”
“I have a cell signal,” Vandy screamed. “I have a cell signal!”
The Tahoe veered to the right, off the road. He Tahoe slammed hard into a boulder.
“Did you hear what I said, Sam? I have a cell signal,” she repeated.
There was no answer.
“Sam?” she cried out. She sat up again. She could see that the Tahoe had made the turn at the bend. The vehicle was no longer in the shooter’s line of sight. She no longer heard gunshots.
“Sam, you did it!” she yelled. “You got us clear. Sam? Sam?”
There was no answer.
She dialed 911. She received a recorded notification, “All circuits are busy. Please try your call again later.”
“No! No! No! Dammit!” she screamed.
She dialed again.
“All circuits are busy. Please try your call again later.”
“No!” she screamed again, dialing again.
“Ring you fucking piece of shit! Ring! Ring!”