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“In the truck.” She thumbed over her shoulder. “And there’s no time to go fetch it before that vehicle gets here.”
“Right.” Marshal Pilsborough shifted his weight, rocking back and forth a little before he got the momentum to stand. Behind him, Marshal Destain held his arm awkwardly across his body.
She said, “Dislocated?”
He nodded.
“We’ll take care of that after we get somewhere safe.” She motioned with her head. “Jax?”
He shrugged on his coat. “I got him.”
“Great. Let’s roll out. We need some cover before—” Breaks squealed outside, and the car spun on the ice. “Let’s go now. While they’re busy.”
Pilsborough grabbed the fugitive by his elbow and laid a sweater over his cuffs.
Kenna glanced at Jax, who gave her a quick nod and then went to the doorway. She tucked her hood up over her head, even though it would be blown off in a couple of seconds. If she could…
The car had settled on its side over by the nose, but far enough out they’d see the attack coming.
She said to Pilsborough, “Get cover behind that piece of wing.” It was big enough to safeguard all of them for a time.
But at some point, they were going to have to make a run for it.
“Copy that.”
Hearing them move behind her, she treaded carefully toward the overturned truck. Then spotted movement at the back, a shadow on the ground.
Kenna braced the gun against her body and fired a warning shot so they’d know she wasn’t going to just let them kill her.One down.She didn’t have an unlimited supply of rounds.
“Kenna!”
She started to back up, knowing exactly what Jax meant by that without him even having to ask why she was letting herself be exposed while he got to safety. Maybe it was a shade of the same worry she felt knowing he was in danger.
She took each measured pace carefully and didn’t see anyone else at the car, but she knew they were there.
“Move,” Jax ordered.
She turned and sprinted around the back of the wing, sliding on the icy snow like she was coming into home base. Shots rang out over her head, followed by Jax’s return fire almost immediately.
Pilsborough lifted up and fired two shots.
Kenna did the same, though she had to reload first. Her knees dampened with the cold. The prisoner they were escorting didn’t look much happier than the marshal with the dislocated shoulder.
“I still have one arm that works,” he said.
“If I could lift up without getting my head shot off,” she said, “I’d fix it for you.”
Pilsborough chuckled between shots.
Destain said, “You’ve done it before?”
“You’re gonna be picky at a time like this?” The prisoner, Jim, motioned to her.
“Yes, I’ve done it before.” Kenna nodded. “But I’ll admit it’s been a long time.” A bullet sang over her head, and she ducked.
Jim frowned. “Whoareyou?”
Kenna grinned. “Deputy Banbury.”