Page 20 of Diagnosis Attraction (Soulmated #4)

CHAPTER TWENTY

Matt saw the tension on Elizabeth’s face. He imagined that his expression was just as grim.

As he walked, he gathered his energy, and he felt Elizabeth preparing to aid him. He might be unable to reach the man’s mind, but that wasn’t his only option.

He was about twenty feet from her captor when he silently shouted, now.

Elizabeth went limp like the frightening situation had made her legs give out. The man scrambled to get control of her, but part of his attention had to stay on Matt. With only a small window of opportunity before the guy was in contact with her again, Matt shot out a jolt of energy, hitting the thug in the shoulder.

He yelped and reared back.

Elizabeth regained her footing immediately and dodged to the side, giving him another shot at the man.

The guy bellowed and went down. Elizabeth kicked him in the face, marveling at her new attitude toward violence. When he stilled, she bent to get the gun and took it out of his hands.

Do we keep this? she asked as she drew up beside Matt. He wanted to reach for her, but there was no time for anything but escape.

I’ll take it.

He clicked the safety on and tucked the weapon into the waistband of his slacks.

They ran for the scraggly underbrush, disappearing into the trees. But a shout followed them, and Matt knew the other man had seen where they went.

No, not just one man. There were two others now.

One stopped by their fallen comrade. The other stayed behind Matt and Elizabeth.

Stephanie turned to Rachel. “Are you following what’s happening?”

“Yes. They got away from the bad guys, but armed men are chasing them along the side of the bayou.”

Frustration bubbled inside Stephanie. She’d been in a similar situation not so long ago.

Craig put a hand on her arm, trying to calm her.

“Is there anything we can do?” she asked.

“We can try.” Rachel closed her eyes, her face a study in concentration as the two other women reached out to touch her. Stephanie felt Rachel trying to direct a surge of power toward the pursuers to slow them at least, but at this distance, the task was impossible.

“We have to get closer.”

Rachel looked toward Jake, but everybody in the van knew he was driving at a dangerous speed.

“We can’t fly. And we aren’t going to be any use to them if we crash,” he muttered.

Matt and Elizabeth plunged farther into the wilderness area, dodging around cypress, tupelo trees, and saw palmettos. They splashed through areas of standing water, mud clinging to their shoes and making it almost impossible to run.

Both were breathing hard, and he wondered how long they could sustain the pace. But they had to keep going because behind them, he could hear the men getting closer, making no attempt to hide their progress through the underbrush.

Elizabeth looked back in panic, then pointed to their right. If we go farther into the swamp, maybe they won’t follow.

We can try.

Matt veered off in the direction she’d suggested, and they worked their way farther into the dense foliage.

When the sounds of the pursuers grew louder, they both went completely still.

“Where the hell did they disappear?” one of the men said.

Sounds like three men. The one who captured me must have joined the others again.

“You beat the bushes around here. We’ll keep going. Widen the search.”

They’re splitting up.

Maybe that’s good. Maybe we can take at least one of them out.

He thought of a plan, telling Elizabeth what he had in mind.

He could feel her uncertainty but also her determination.

He took a position behind a tree, and she moved into a patch of low bushes.

“Matt, she called out. Matt, I’m stuck. Help me.”

Two of the men were too far away to hear her. The other stopped at once, reversing direction and moving cautiously toward the spot where she was standing.

Matt tensed, waiting for the guy to get closer.

“All right,” the thug called out. “I see you. Come out with your hands up.”

Elizabeth moaned. “My foot’s stuck.”

The man took a few careful steps closer, and Matt struck, sending out a bolt that hit him squarely in the center of the chest. He went down, and they both crouched over him.

Matt removed the football helmet and inspected the inside. There was some kind of heavy foil lining, and he laughed out loud.

“What?”

“You know some paranoid mental patients think aluminum foil will protect them from outside influences probing their brains? Apparently, it works—at least when we do the probing.”

The man was stirring. When he reached up and found that his helmet was gone, he gasped.

“Who are you? Why are you after us?” Matt asked.

“Following orders.”

“Who wants us? And why?”

“I’m just doing a job,” he said, repeating what the other guy had said.

“And why are you wearing a helmet.”

“The boss said to.”

“Why?”

He looked away. “He said you had some kind of mind control rays.”

Oh great.

Too bad we can’t read minds, Elizabeth said.

Too bad he doesn’t have more information. But we can’t waste a lot of time on him. The others could come back. He bent to the man. Stop looking for us. Go back to your car. Drive away.

The thug looked confused.

Go on. Get out of here before the man and woman do something worse to you.

The thug gave them a panicked look. Pushing himself up, he began running back the way he’d come like the devil was after him.

When he was out of sight, Matt and Elizabeth moved farther into the swamp. Ahead of them, Matt saw one of the bayous that cut through the area. They could run along the edge, or they could plunge in—which might or might not be a good idea, depending on whether an alligator was waiting to scoop them up.

In the distance, he saw a dock sticking out into the brown water and a couple of boats moored.

Elizabeth followed his thoughts, and they both ran for the dock.

Behind them, he could hear running feet. When a bullet whizzed past them, he whirled and returned fire, making the attackers duck back into the underbrush.

That gave them a little time, but he knew he and Elizabeth would be sitting ducks when they went out onto the dock.

He slowed, trying to decide.

I’m going first.

That didn’t work out so well last time.

What’s your suggestion?

We go into the water on the other side of the dock and climb into one of the boats.

Risky. But maybe it'sour only option. You go in. I’ll hold them off.

When they reached the dock, they both ducked to the other side. He took up a position at the end near the shore, ready to stop the bad guys from coming closer. Elizabeth went into the water, swimming along the side of the pier where she was sheltered from the men who were coming cautiously through the trees.

From behind the cover of the dock, Matt got off a couple of shots at the pursuers, making them think twice about coming closer. But the standoff couldn’t last forever. There were still two bad guys left, and Matt had only the ammunition in one weapon. Stupid. He should have grabbed the other gun, too.

Not stupid. You were preoccupied, Elizabeth answered in his mind.

As he kept part of his focus on the men, he also followed her progress. She made it to one of the crafts, a speedboat with an inboard motor.

This one?

He answered in the affirmative, wishing he knew more about boats. But they had to get out of a bad situation, and the vessel seemed to be their best alternative.

Can you get in?

I hope so.

It had seemed like a good idea then, but making it from the water into the boat was easier said than done. As she tried to heave herself over the side, he waited with his breath shallow in his lungs, wishing he could swim over and boost her up. But he had to stay where he was, holding off the pursuers.

Elizabeth struggled to pull herself inside, but it was clear that the side of the craft was too high for her to scramble over from her position in the water. Her only alternative was to set the boat rocking from side to side. When it was almost dipping into the water, she finally flopped over the gunwale onto the bench seats, banging her hip and shoulder as she came down.

Wet and dripping, she lay there momentarily, struggling to pull her thoughts together.

Now what?

You have to start it.

She began searching around, looking for a key. It wasn’t under the dashboard, and it wasn’t in any of the compartments around the craft.

You’ll have to zap it. Like I zapped the door lock in the basement of The Mansion.

This is a little different.

She made a low sound but began studying the controls, and Matt directed her to the starter.

She focused on it, giving it a mental jolt, then another. Nothing happened, and she thought they might have to abandon the craft and go to plan B—which was swimming across the bayou and disappearing into the swamp beyond—if they could make it across without getting shot or running into some dangerous wildlife.

When she was about to give up hope of starting the boat, the engine coughed, then sprang to life.

Good work.

To keep the thugs from rushing the pier, Matt got off a couple more shots. Then the gun clicked, and he knew he was out of bullets. Abandoning his position at the side of the dock, he leaped up on the boards. As soon as he ran up to the boat, the bad guys started shooting. He ducked low, and he heard a gasp behind him. In his mind’s eye, he saw what was happening. Elizabeth had turned and was hurling bolts of power at the men, pushing them back from the pier to get them out of range, giving him time to untie the boat from the mooring and leap inside.

Elizabeth watched him jump aboard, then turned back to the wheel. As she pulled away, the men started shooting again. He and Elizabeth bent low, making themselves as small a target as possible while the craft roared up the bayou.

Matt looked back, seeing the two men on the end of the dock. One seemed to be in charge and gave orders to the other. He pointed toward another motorboat moored nearby, and they ran to the vessel and jumped in.

Matt was pretty sure they wouldn’t make the engine turn over with their minds. But it seemed they didn’t need to. When he heard the craft start, he muttered a curse. Either they knew where to find the key, or they had lucked out.

He cursed again as the boat took off after them, and it quickly became clear that the other craft was more powerful.

“They’re gaining on us. What are we going to do?” she shouted. “Can we goose up the engine?”

“I don’t know.”

He focused on the motor, trying to force it to put out more speed, but the maneuver didn’t seem to be working, and all they could do was keep going.

The men in the boat behind them kept firing their guns, and the shots became more accurate the closer they got. Bullets whizzed past, and some struck the hull. Matt looked down, seeing water rising in the bottom of the boat. They were sinking.