Page 17 of Final Approach (Lake City Heroes #4)

Kristine looked around. And finally recognized where she was. “Down or up?” It was a ways down through a sparsely wooded area with a wounded man who most likely needed a hospital. But from where they were, up would be even harder. Down it was, then across to a flatter hike back toward the lake.

Two more pops that Andrew answered with his own weapon again. “He keeps coming. He doesn’t seem to care that I can shoot back.”

“That’s seven bullets for him,” Kristine said. “I’ve got Hank. You cover us and let me get him down to that flat area. We’ll be wide open for a short time. Once we’re there, we can walk until we find a place to climb and head back to the lake. There are houses there. With phones.”

“Got it. Go.”

Kristine got a better grip on the groggy Hank who was, thankfully, able to support most of his own weight, and started down, stepping carefully.

She didn’t want to lose her footing and send them both tumbling down the steep embankment.

She glanced back to see Andrew a few feet behind her, moving sideways, weapon still in his right hand.

While she paused to find her next step, she shot another look back over her shoulder and caught movement about twenty yards up.

“You see him?” she asked.

“Got him. Federal agent! Drop your weapon!”

Andrew’s shout earned two more bullets whizzing in their direction.

Kristine flinched. That was too close for comfort.

Unfortunately, the guy was a good shot for someone moving and shooting at the same time.

In the pouring rain. It wasn’t as easy as the movies made it look.

Andrew popped off two more rounds. She glanced over her shoulder. The guy had found cover once more.

She pulled Hank down next to a tree. He dropped to sit, back against the trunk, knees bent, body shivering. Hard. Shock? Pain? The weather? Probably a combination of all three. The rain still came down, but it wasn’t the deluge it had been just a few minutes ago. “Hang on, Hank.”

“I-I’m hanging.” His teeth chattered, then he let out a low groan and bent away from her to lose whatever had been in his stomach. Then he leaned back, head against the tree. “S-sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you have a concussion.”

“Yeah. Feels like it.”

Andrew joined them. “The shooter is hunkered down for the moment.” He frowned at Hank. “You don’t look so good, buddy.”

“I’ve been shot before. This ain’t near as bad.”

“I’m pretty sure I know where we are,” Kristine said.

“Lake City Lake is that way.” She pointed up and to the left, back the way they’d come.

“Based on how far we drove before the guy struck, we’re probably about two miles from James and Lainie’s house.

If we can get there, we can call for help.

They keep a satellite phone in case the reception is wonky. ”

Andrew peered around the tree. A crack sounded and he jerked back. “I don’t think we have a choice. He’s going to keep coming. I don’t want to waste any more bullets on him.” He helped Hank to his feet. “Let’s go, my friend.”

“Not sure I can make it, Ross. Head is spinning and legs are weak.”

“You’ll make it if I have to carry you.”

“Sorry about all this. I shouldn’t have...” The man visibly gathered his strength and stepped forward. “I got it. I’m good.”

Since Andrew was doing the heavy work in holding Hank upright, Kristine removed her weapon. “Go down to the flat area, and then we can head up on an easier slope,” she said. “It’s my turn. Hurry from tree to tree.”

Andrew hesitated, looked like he wanted to protest, but she drilled him with a hard gaze, and he finally nodded, tightened his grip around Hank, and started up.

ANDREW WAS CONCERNED about Hank. He also worried they were all going to wind up with a bullet in them, but he kept going because he had no choice.

And besides, he was cold, and movement was the only way to keep his blood flowing.

Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning flashed.

He said a quiet prayer that no one would get struck by lightning—and that he wouldn’t freak out in the storm.

He wasn’t necessarily afraid of storms, but he’d admit to an intense dislike.

In answer to his breathed prayer, lightning held off through the open area.

They made it down to flatter ground, still no shots coming their way, and Andrew pulled Hank to the tree line.

Hurrying from tree to tree, they climbed upward, aiming for the road Kristine said would take them back to Lake City Lake.

A flash of lightning lit up the area a second before the clap of thunder shook the earth.

The shooter’s gun barked again, and this time pain sliced along Andrew’s upper right shoulder. He cried out and nearly let go of Hank.

“Andrew!” Kristine’s terror for him came through in her shout.

“I’m all right! That’s eleven bullets.”

Kristine’s weapon answered in kind, and he turned to see the guy drop back with a harsh yell. Then rise and fire four pops close together.

Then silence.

He was either reloading or injured and down for the count. With each step, Hank hung heavier in Andrew’s grip, and now Andrew’s shoulder felt like someone had taken a blow torch to it.

Kristine hurried to him, slipped, and went down hard on her hip.

“Whoa!” He wanted to reach for her but didn’t want to drop a very quiet Hank. “You okay?” he asked her.

She grimaced and popped back up, aiming her weapon behind them. “Fine. Nothing hurt except my dignity.”

The shooter remained quiet. “Glock 19?” Andrew asked.

“Maybe. I counted fifteen bullets.”

“Could be reloading.” He wanted to turn around and go after the guy, but Hank...

“There’s a path somewhere just ahead,” Kristine said. “I’ve walked it with Lainie and the others. It runs parallel to the road.”

“I’m watching for it. Hank, talk to me. How are you doing? Can you go another little bit?”

“I’m a Marine, you moron. I’ll go as long as I have to.”

The words were said without heat and Andrew almost smiled. “Semper Fi, my man.”

“Semper Fi. Now shut up. Talking hurts.” Hank pressed a hand to his left side and ground out the words that ended on a groan.

Andrew’s smile faded. His shoulder hurt too, but complaining about it was a waste of breath.

Minutes passed where the only sounds were the rain, their steps, and harsh breathing.

Kristine caught up to him and pointed to a break in the trees. “Through there. I’m fairly sure that leads to the walking path around the lake.”

“That’s a three-mile trek.”

“Yeah, but we’re going right at the fork and James and Lainie’s place will only be another half a mile. And the good thing is, I know the door code to get in if they’re not there.”

“Perfect.” He just hoped Hank could hold out that long. Yes, the man had been a Marine, but a body could only take so much.

He checked behind them.

Nothing. He glanced at Kristine. “You think you hit him?”

“I know I did. Not sure how bad, though.” She shuddered and rain dripped from her hair to slide down her face. “How bad are you hit?”

“A graze.” He shivered as well, feeling the cold to his bones while his shoulder was now throbbing a painful beat.

But hope stirred. He recognized the area now and picked up the pace, hoping Hank would be all right.

The man uttered a low groan that sounded more like a growl, but he followed Andrew’s lead and walked faster.

It seemed like an eternity passed before the house came into view, and miraculously, Hank was still on his feet. Sort of. “Not too much farther,” Andrew said.

“I’m fine. Can go another mile or two if we need it,” Hank mumbled.

“No need for that, Iron Man.”

“Dude, please, not Iron Man. He died in the end, remember?”

“Oops, right. Sorry. Captain America?”

“That’s better, I suppose.”

Incredibly enough, despite the circumstances, Andrew bit off a smile.

He’d missed his friend. After the ... incident .

.. Andrew had pretty much cut the man out of his life, ignoring Hank’s attempts to reconnect.

It was just too painful. Guilt was a strong emotion that he’d become very successful at ignoring.

But right now, it was rearing its ugly head, demanding attention.

With extra effort, Andrew shoved it aside.

He had other things to worry about at the moment.

Kristine hurried ahead of them, still clutching her gun, gaze intent on the area around them. She was in full protector mode, and quite honestly, it was a sight to behold. She was magnificent.

Hank stumbled and Andrew grabbed him with a short silent order to himself to pay attention. Knowing Kristine was being so vigilant allowed him not to beat himself up about his momentary lapse.

Two minutes later, they were inside with the door locked. “There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom,” she said. “In the linen closet, second shelf from the bottom.”

“Thanks.” Andrew maneuvered Hank to the hall bathroom while Kristine made a beeline to the kitchen to look for the sat phone.

Hank lowered himself to the toilet with a groan and dropped his chin to his chest. His shudders had turned into the shakes. “Sorry, man, I might need to lay down for a minute.”

“Can you let me help you get out of those wet clothes?”

Hank lifted his head and shot him a perturbed look. “I got it if you can find me something to put on.”

Andrew raised a brow, thinking his friend was optimistic about his abilities right now. “You’re shaking too hard to do much.”

“I got it.” The words were low but firm.

“Fine, but if you pass out on me and hit your head again, I’m not going to be happy with you.”

Hank simply stared at him.