Page 114
Story: Protecting Dallas
Holy shit holy shit holy shit!
Another thump, this time off to the side. I saw two very surprised bad guys literally bounce off my fender. The looks of utter shock frozen upon their faces actually made me laugh out loud.
What the fuck are you laughing at?
My heart was hammering out of my chest. My whole body was flooded with fear and adrenaline and a whole host of other emotions I couldn’t even stop to consider.
How are you going to find him?
I really had no idea. Right now it was like driving through a dust-storm, steering blindly left and right. I pointed the nose of the truck in the direction I imagined I saw Kane last. But whether or not I was right…
BBBRRRRAAAAPPP!
Something loud and obnoxious erupted somewhere off to my left. I steered away from it, only vaguely aware I was now probably skirting the face of the cliff.
I had to slow down. Only I couldn’t slow down because there were people everywhere. I couldn’t see them but I could hear them; shouting, crying out, somehow even firing, although I couldn’t imagine they weren’t just as blind as I was. And then all of a sudden…
WHOOSH!
I was out of the dust cloud. Into the open. I saw three men react immediately, raising their weapons until they were level with my truck.
SHIT!
I ducked, jerking the wheel hard. Loud pings and ricochets echoed across one side of my vehicle. Following that, I heard two sharp cracks, from far away. When I looked up again, two of them men had fallen.
Whoa.
The third one was sprinting like hell in the opposite direction.
“UMMPH!”
I whirled, and suddenly there was Kane. He was flat on his back, covered in dirt. Writhing around… with someone else pinned against his body.
I flung open the door and ran for him, without even thinking. As I got closer I could see what was going on. He had one man in a headlock, while two others stood there kicking him in the ribs. A third stood poised over my lover, with the butt of his rifle raised high. Ready at any moment to bring it down on his skull…
“KANE!”
They whirled, and it occurred to me instantly that shouting probably wasn’t the best option. I hadn’t even flipped the safety on my weapon yet.
“Dallas?”
I saw Kane’s broad back twist viciously, and the guy he’d been wrestling with suddenly stopped moving. Half the men facing me turned back around. The others raised their rifles.
CRACK!
A bullet tore though an enemy’s shoulder. This time it came from the side, instead of above. Another man was advancing forward calmly, his teeth stark white against the dusky gloom of his face.
It was Dietz.
Thank God!
The other man scrambled sideways, firing as he ran. As he and Dietz traded shots, I advanced forward… just as Kane grabbed the leg of his nearest opponent and yanked him to the ground.
That left the man with rifle butt, who turned to face me. His gaze caught mine and there was an instant of shock… then recognition.
ALACARD.
His face was still bruised, his forehead scabbed over from our scuffle in New Orleans. He didn’t seem phased by it. In fact, his mouth curled into the most wicked of grins.
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