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He reached into her rear pocket, loving how her breath hitched as he cupped her ass before snagging her phone and handing it over.
She stared at it for a few moments, frowning as he retrieved his. “It’s Zain.”
Foster glanced at his, ice sluicing through his veins. “Mine, too.”
They answered in unison, putting both on speaker as a horn blared in the background, wind and rain echoing through the room.
“Zain?” Foster cursed when nothing sounded but the storm. “Damn it, talk to us.”
“Foster, Mac, I…” The line cut out, his voice sounding like a garbled robot before it picked up again. “Need…”
“We’ll be there, buddy, just tell us where you are.”
More odd sounds, then he was back. Slightly clearer. “On the road up here…” His voice faded into a grunt, his breath coming in rough pants. “Upside down but Chase and Greer…”
“What about Chase and Greer?”
“River. Beckett… Danger…”
Mac gave Foster a shove, but he was already moving. Racing upstairs and retrieving one of his rifles from his gun cabinet before running back down, taking the steps two at a time. He grabbed his coat and his keys as he fumbled with his cell, hitting Kash’s number. Mac had her jacket back on and was out the door heading straight for his truck before Kash’s phone even connected.
Kash answered on the second ring, sounding as if he’d just gotten home. “Sorry, Beck, but we think you and Mac should?—”
“Zain’s in trouble. Something about being upside down. Possible threat. And there’s something wrong with Chase and Greer. I think they went off the road. Chase’s truck is here, so they must be driving Greer’s Bronco. It might be in a river. I need you and Nyx in your truck. Two minutes ago, if possible. And Kash… Bring everything.”
Kash hung up without saying another word. Foster shoved his cell in his pocket as he did a quick check of his supplies, placing the rifle on the console between him and Mac then jumping behind the wheel. Kash appeared a moment later on the path to the rear of the property, running full out, only slightly slower than Nyx. He practically bounced off the truck when he hit it still sprinting, starting it up and pulling in behind Foster in what had to have been some kind of Olympic record.
Mac had her cell in her hand. “Emergency services says they’ll send a response team as soon as they can and to update them with a more accurate location once we know what we’re facing. But with the rain, the distance and all the multiple calls, it’ll likely be at least twenty minutes.”
“I have a very bad feeling they don’t have that much time.”
Foster roared down the driveway, fishtailed onto the road then punched the gas. They didn’t talk as he raced along the slick surface, fast but not reckless. Crashing wouldn’t save anyone, and Foster knew the situation had to be pretty desperate for Zain to sound the way he had. That he was probably hurt far worse than Foster wanted to acknowledge because his buddy generally cursed a blue streak when he was in pain.
Rain poured from the sky, the wipers barely keeping up as the fog ate away most of Foster’s visibility, threatening to send them over the cliff at every turn. He passed the corner where they’d dealt with the van and kept going, following the twisting road until it finally turned away from the shoreline and headed inland, winding through trees and rocky plateaus as it snaked toward town. He slowed when he reached the section where there was even a possibility of an SUV landing in a river — hoping he’d be able to see just a hint of one of the vehicles in the unrelenting fog — when his heart stopped dead.
Zain’s truck. The tires still spinning against the gray sky, the front end pointing down toward the edge of a gully or ravine. Smoke poured out of the hood, a few flames flickering out the side.
Foster had his truck parked and was rounding the flatbed in five seconds flat. He grabbed a fire extinguisher and a crowbar, tossing the first aid kit to Mac. “Get the rifle and cover our six.”
He didn’t ask her if she could handle his Sauer, trusting that even if the Coast Guard hadn’t beaten all that training into her, Atticus had. That she was likely as deadly as any of his buddies.
Kash was at Foster’s side and hoofing it over to Zain’s truck a heartbeat later, Nyx racing in front. Kash whistled and twirled his finger once they reached the vehicle and the mutt took off. What looked like a perimeter search.
Mac was scanning the area, glancing over at them, then scanning again. Back and forth until she must have been satisfied the area was clear and moved in beside him. “I’ll go do a quick recon to see if I can locate Chase and Greer.”
Foster nodded as he went straight for the fire, dosing the entire front section until the extinguisher ran dry. He’d try to find Zain’s if the flames picked back up before they’d gotten his buddy out, but for now, he doubted the engine would blow.
Kash was at Zain’s door trying to open it before banging on the window. “Zain!”
Zain groaned, then faded, the seatbelt keeping him suspended.
“Damn it, Zain!”
No sustained response had Kash moving — busting out the rear window then crawling through. He placed his jacket between Zain and the driver’s window, holding firm while Foster smashed the glass into a thousand tiny squares.
He swept away any pieces still clinging to the frame before going to one knee and placing two fingers along Zain’s neck. “Pulse is steady, but he’s got a gash across his forehead and blood soaking through his sweater. It might be his shoulder, but I can’t be certain with him hanging upside down.”
Kash was tugging on the seatbelt, trying to get it loose. “It’s impossible to tell if he simply went off the road or was forced somehow.”