No way she could get the door open and run out the back before he’d get to her, so she slapped her hands on the counter and started to jump to the other side.
Despite his impaired condition, the man got a few fingers around her ankle before she could get all the way over. She fell forward, catching herself right before she slammed into the front of the counter.
Twisting at the waist, she yanked her leg. “Let go of me.”
“Sorry, babe, you ain’t going anywhere,” he said, grinning as he tightened his grip.
She swiveled the other way and felt unexpected pressure against her hip.
The knife.
She thrust her foot at him, ramming the sole of her boot hard into his chest. Staggering backward, he lost his grip, and she was able to tumble the rest of the way over the counter. She pushed to her feet, pulled out the knife, and removed the sheath.
“Hey, stop,” he said as he lumbered around the end of the counter.
Wanting only to distract him so she could get the door open, she cocked her arm and threw the knife at him. As she grabbed the door handle, she heard a grunt, but she didn’t allow herself to look back until she was outside.
She had expected to see him nearing the door, but instead he was lying on the lobby floor, her knife sticking out of his abdomen. Blood poured from the wound as he feebly tried to grab at the knife, but his movements were uncoordinated and within seconds his hands dropped to his side.
As much as she knew she should keep going, she stepped back inside. Her attacker’s breaths were coming in short, pronounced bursts, and his eyes were full of confusion.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Dear God, what had she done? She’d never even hurt anyone before. Not on purpose, anyway.
His gaze slowly turned to her, his incomprehension growing. His lips parted to say something, but then, like someone threw a switch, his chest stopped moving and his muscles relaxed.
Riley stepped backward toward the door before she forced herself to stop.
As horrifying as it was, she returned to the man and pulled her knife from his gut. Using a roll of paper towels she found behind the counter, she wiped off the blood and slipped the weapon into her bag. She patted him down and rolled him over. That’s when she found the pistol tucked under the waist of his pants. She wiped off the blood covering the grip and shoved it into her bag.
The world was a different place now, and no one could afford to leave a weapon behind.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, and then hurried outside.
Noreen tensed when she heard a key slip into the door lock. Other than bringing them some water not long after they’d been put in the room, the captors had left her and Craig alone.
Noreen had known that wouldn’t last.
“Craig?” she whispered.
He was still out.
The lock clicked and the door creaked open. She watched as a surprisingly small silhouette stepped across the threshold. As soon as the person was inside, the door closed again.
Noreen heard some fumbling, and then a light sliced through the darkness. She narrowed her eyelids to slits. Though the beam was small, to her unadjusted eyes it was as bright as the sun, blinding her to everything.
“Noreen? Thank God.”
Riley knelt down next to her friend and asked, “Are you hurt?”
“Riley?” Noreen said, squinting.
“It’s me. How about we get you guys out of here, huh?”
Noreen tensed. “What are you doing? They’re going to catch you, too.”
Riley quickly put a finger over Noreen’s lips. “They won’t if you’d stop yelling. Everyone’s asleep.”
Using her knife, Riley cut Noreen free. Once her friend was sitting, she moved over to Craig and removed his restraints.
“Craig?” she said, gently shaking him. “Craig, wake up. We’ve got to go.”
“He’s been like that since they took us,” Noreen said.
Riley tapped his cheeks. “Come on, Craig. You need to wake up.”
A low groan.
Riley knew they didn’t have the luxury to wait around until he was conscious again, so she said to Noreen, “You’ll have to help me.”
After draping Craig’s arms over their shoulders, they lifted him to his feet and maneuvered him to the door.
“Hold him for a moment,” Riley said, transferring all of Craig’s weight to Noreen.
She cracked the door open enough to stick her head through. All was still quiet at the Ragged Point Inn and Resort.
She pulled back inside and whispered, “We go out and to the right over to the highway. Got it?”
Noreen nodded.
“Okay, we’re going to carry him like this.”
Riley demonstrated, putting one arm behind Craig’s back and the other under his thighs so he’d basically be in a sitting position. Then she eased the door all the way open. Its hinges creaked a little but that didn’t seem to bring anyone out.
On a count of three, she and Noreen picked up Craig and headed out.
When they reached the highway, Riley guided them south.
Noreen shot her a questioning look. “We’re not walking out of here, are we?” she whispered.
“Shhh,” Riley said.
They continued around the bend until Riley’s motorcycle came into view.
“We can’t all fit on that,” Noreen said.
“Sure we can.”
It would be tight, but doable. The problem wasn’t whether they’d all fit or not. It was how they would keep Craig from falling off. When Riley had come up with her plan, she hadn’t taken into consideration that one of them might be unconscious.
“I’ll drive,” she said. “We’ll put Craig between us so you can hold on to him. There are a few bungee cords under the seat we can wrap around us to help.”
“Bungee cords?” Noreen said.
“If you have a better idea, I’m listening.”
Short of going back to the motel and getting some rope, the bungees would have to do.
To create enough room for Craig, Riley gave her backpack to Noreen to wear, then they sandwiched their injured friend between them. They had enough bungee cords to create two separate loops, so one went around chest high and the other closer to the waist.
“Ready?” Riley asked.
“Not really,” Noreen said.
“Hang on!” Riley started the engine, swung the bike around, and headed south on Highway One.
Colter’s eyes opened.
What the hell was that? He’d heard something. Maybe it was a dream.
Sitting up, he realized he’d passed out on the table. He rubbed his head and looked around. Where was that prick Dugger? He’d left to get some more beers and hadn’t come back.
Colter pushed to his feet. “Dugger?”
He headed outside.
“Dugger?”
19
Someone moved out of the trees onto the highway just as Ash was about to head into the woods to join the others. The person was about three hundred yards ahead and had immediately turned down the road toward the parked convoy.
Ash knew it wasn’t one of his people. He was the only one this close to the trucks.
The security guard, he realized.
He considered pursuing her, but stopping her before she reached the others would be difficult at best and not worth the effort. She’d be dealt with soon enough.
“Blake for Ash.”
Turning from the road, Ash clicked on his mic and headed into the woods. “This is Ash.”
“DNA. Sat.”
DNA? That was a code he hadn’t heard since his army days. DNA — do not answer. And sat? That wasn’t standard code but was easy enough to figure out: sat phone. He turned off his radio and pulled his phone from his pack just as it started vibrating.