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“He’s with the FBI and knows everything. Allen brought him on the case to help with the thumb drive. You’ll never find him, and he’ll make sure all of you pay. You’ll never kill all of us. The longer that drive is out in the world, the more people know. In fact, the vote has already been blocked.”
Micha swerved off the road, and Heather’s forehead slammed into the door.
“How many people? I need to know.” He pulled out a gun. “Tell me right now or I’ll shoot you here.”
His hand trembled, terrifying her even more than the gun itself. “Many and I’ll never tell you. Why would I hurt Allen or my father? I had to make sure more people knew to protect them.” Never mind that it was Allen who brought in the help, not her, but she would draw Micha’s anger if it meant he would leave her father and Allen alone.
“You’re lying. You didn’t have time. After you were shot, you would’ve needed surgery. How could you do all of that in one night?” Sweat beaded over his brow.
“I’m not. And do you really want to test me? How many people are you willing to kill? How many is too many?” She slowly lowered her grip to the door latch instead of the handle, trying to hide the movement with her body.
Micha’s breathing became too quick, and he looked like he might pass out. “Mom needs me. She has no one else.” His arm lowered slightly.
Heather watched the gun, waiting. She needed a few seconds to get out of the car and the further he was from aiming at her, the more likely she’d make it. Getting shot for real would probably finish the job Micha had started.
Perspiration gathered at the small of her back and over her forehead. She should be resting and healing, not running for her life. Her body wasn’t made for this, but it wouldn’t get to do anything else if she didn’t leave soon.
She tugged slowly on the pull as Micha yanked back onto the road. Her frustration gripped her like a chokehold. She’d lost her chance because she’d waited for the perfect moment that hadn’t come. Now, they were only a few minutes from Allen’s house.
Her stomach plummeted as Allen’s father came into view in front of the house, with Jasper at his side. He was preparing a bush in Allen’s front yard for winter. A pile of leaves waited at his side to mulch the area. He glanced at them and shaded his eyes from the early morning sun.
Micha’s indecision from a few minutes before turned to molten fury. Heather felt the change in him and his face morphed into pure evil. “I won’t miss this time.” He slammed the car into park and drew his pistol.
“No!” Allen cared about his father, and she wanted so much to repair the relationship between them, but that wouldn’t happen if he was dead.
Heather shoved Micha’s hand into the driver’s side door as he shot, sending the bullet through the windshield. The front window webbed into millions of pieces, holding on by nothing more than tension.
“You...” Micha didn’t finish whatever he’d wanted to call her.
She shoved her door open and hurled herself flat on the ground. Her whole body fought against the pain and nausea from the jolt. Almost immediately, she felt the hot pain in her side. The feeling of spreading sticky warmth told her she’d opened her wound. Jasper was at her side in a heartbeat, nuzzling her cheek.
Randy crawled toward her, but she wasn’t sure where Micha was. “Where is he? You have to get away!” She waved Allen’s father off. Micha’s anger would override any sense she’d managed to talk into him on the way.
“Not without you!” He took her arm and hauled her to her feet as another bullet blasted from the car and whizzed past them. “Run!”
She left her fatigue behind and tried to keep up as he whipped open the door and held it for her with Jasper on her heels. “Go, now.” He reached for a shotgun propped behind the door.
As he raised the gun, Micha threw the car into gear and hit the gas pedal. The car raced toward Randy. He turned and ran inside the house, barely missing the front bumper as Micha plowed through the front of the house.
“Randy, where are you?” She leaned against the wall, staring at the smoking car and holding tight to Jasper’s collar, though she wasn’t sure if the smoke came from the vehicle or damage to the house.
“I’m here.” He stumbled from the kitchen.
With the broken windshield, she couldn’t see if Micha was injured or waiting for them to come look. Her heart pounded as she searched for an idea. In that moment, Randy picked up a splintered 2 x 4 and threw it at the broken window.
It caved, revealing Micha laying against the steering wheel, his face bloody. He wasn’t moving, but even from across the room, she could see his shoulders rising and falling, proving he was alive.
“What do we do?” Rational thought escaped her as her fatigue almost pushed her to the floor. She’d survived this far. Would her injuries take her out when this was almost done?
“You need to rest. I’ll call an ambulance and the police. Go, hide. Lock the door.” Allen’s father held the shotgun up a few inches. “I can keep an eye on him. My son will be very disappointed if I let one of his citizens die.”
All her life, she’d thought of this man as an outsider. He was nothing more than an alcoholic who didn’t contribute to society. How wrong she’d been. This man knew his son. He knew how to care for a house and tend it. Maybe he needed someone to believe in him, to care about him.
She slowly shook her head. Leaving him alone to face this wasn’t an option. If she cared at all for Allen, then she had to care for his father, and that would start right now. “I’m not going anywhere.” She slid down the wall and used it to support her back.
Allen’s father sighed as he pulled an old cell phone from his back pocket and flipped it open. He pressed a few numbers and held the phone to his head. While he was distracted by the call, Heather kept her focus on Micha. If he moved at all, she would scream.
As soon as Allen’s father was off the phone, he went to the driver’s side and felt Micha’s wrist for a pulse. Heather’s breathing hitched, and she prayed Micha would stay knocked out until help arrived.