I'd started to turn when the blow descended. I caught a glimpse of the huge leg coming at me and half-turned away, but the kick caught me in the back of the neck. It would have torn my neck muscles apart had I not been on my knees. I went flying across the room to land on top of the dead man against the wall. Wilhelmina skidded from my hand and under a table and through glazed eyes I saw a huge form, a mountain of a man, the giant Sumo wrestler who had figured in the theft from Cumberland. He was moving toward me, a house with legs, and my own legs were definitely unsteady.
I tensed my muscles, feeling them respond sluggishly as my head rang like a gong, my neck afire with pain. I came up from the floor at him, swinging out with a left, but my timing was way off as I still reeled dizzily. The blow landed high on his cheekbone, and he brushed it aside as though it were a gnat's bite. Huge hands grabbed me and I stretched out to find his face, but I felt myself being lifted and flung into the wall. I hit it so hard the plaster cracked. I sank to the floor, shaking my head, clinging desperately to consciousness and expecting another blow that would tear my head off. Dimly I heard the girl's voice calling.
"Ready," I heard her say and the answering grunt from the wrestler. His footsteps receded, and I pushed myself from against the wall, rolled over and gazed with wavy focus across the floor. I spied Wilhelmina under the table, reached out and closed my hand around the Luger. Stumbling only once, my head still ringing and my neck fierce with pain, I lurched to the front door in time to see Rita Kenmore disappear into the back seat of the Chevy.
Sumo Sam on the other side of the car saw me stumble from the house and aim a shot at him. He ducked as the slug tore a line across the roof of the car where he'd towered over it. A shot answered mine, and I hit the ground, rolled over and came up to see the black Chevy roaring away from the curb. I pegged another shot at it but only hit the trunk.
Swearing, I was on my feet, running for the blue Cougar I'd parked around the block. As I reached the end of the house I remembered the killers in the woods and dived to the ground. Peering back to the woods, I saw the column of smoke still holding at the very edge. Three of the killers had come through it, but they were turning to go back into the woods. They'd seen the black Chevy take off, and their job was over. I hadn't time to chase them. The black Chevy held all the important pieces.
I dove into the Cougar and sent it roaring in a tight circle. I caught a glimpse of the Chevy's rear as they turned a corner ahead, and I put the gas pedal on the floor. Reaching the corner, I took it on two wheels, listening to the screech. I saw their tail careen around another corner and I took after them. I could see them ahead now; they were turning onto a paved service road that paralleled the more crowded expressway. Driving with one hand, I switched on the walkie-talkie and heard Hawk's voice crackle through.
"It's me, Nick," I said. "No time to explain. Call alarm to stop black Chevy sedan, heading north on service road alongside expressway." I pressed the «off» switch.
"Got it," Hawk said. I switched on again. The Chevy had caromed around a sharp curve.
"Hold it," I said, dropping the instrument onto the seat beside me to grab the wheel with both hands as I skidded the car around the corner. The rear end drifted wide but I managed to miss the street lamp.
"Norbert Road," I yelled back into the walkie-talkie. "West on Norbert Road. Stay on the ready. Over and out."
I pressed my foot on the accelerator and felt the car leap forward. The black Chevy was hitting ninety and Norbert Road was a succession of curves. Half the time I'd lose them and knew they were there only by the scream of their tires as they took a curve. Then I'd catch sight of them for a moment, until the next curve.
The Chevy had the giant Jap, old Sumo Sam, plus the two smaller men and Rita Kenmore — over seven hundred pounds of weight to hold it down against my one-ninety. They gained a little bit at each curve because of it. I roared around a sharp one and almost went into a spin, the wheel fighting me furiously. When I pulled out of it and onto the straightaway, they weren't in sight and I frowned. But there was another curve, an easy one just ahead and I cut it beautifully hitting the straight section beyond without slowing down. The black Chevy was still nowhere in sight. I went on a few hundred yards more and hit the brakes, skidding to a halt. Reversing, I made a fast turnabout and headed back the way I'd come, cursing into the wind.
The opening was on my right, a small entranceway in a long, wooden fence which I'd shot past before without even seeing. It was the only possible spot. They must have gone in there. I turned into the entranceway and found myself going down a steep dirt grade. The car hit the bottom bouncing like a baby buggy and I burst out of the door with the walkie-talkie in my hand. I was inside a huge construction area, with big stacks of culvert pipe and steel beams, huge generators still on their wooden skids, the steel framework of a half-dozen structures and dirt roads and paths in all directions. But there was no black Chevy. They had plenty of places to hide in here.
I lifted the walkie-talkie to talk with control when the fusillade of shots rang out from three different directions. I felt the wind of the slugs tearing through the air and slamming into the metal of the Cougar. I half-slipped, half-dove for the ground just as one bullet struck the walkie-talkie in my hand. It shattered the instrument, and I closed my eyes and turned away as small slivers of metal flew into my face.
I felt the tiny trickles of blood running down my right cheek, but that wasn't anything. It was my arm, numb and tingling as though I'd been sleeping on it for hours. The walkie-talkie slipped from my numbed fingers as the second cluster of shots echoed in the recessed area. I rolled under the car and felt a bullet crease my leg. I wanted to yank out Wilhelmina and return their fire but my hand and arm were still numb. I couldn't have held a water pistol. From beneath the car I heard the sound of feet running on the earth and then I saw them, coming toward the car from both sides.
I rolled on my back and, twisting my arm, pulled at the Luger with my left hand. I'd just gotten it free when one pair of footsteps vaulted into the car and I heard the sound of the engine roar into life. Dropping the Luger, I rolled over on my stomach as the car backed up, the transmission scraping my temple. The driver twisted the wheel and I saw the frame move to the right and the rear tires dig into the earth and race at me.
I flung myself to the left and the right rear tire scraped my shoulder as it hurtled past, and then the car was no longer on top of me, but I heard the screech of brakes and the clash of gears as the driver shot it into reverse. I'd half-lifted myself from the ground as the Cougar shot at me. I dived again, flattening myself, pressing into the earth, and I cried out in pain as the transmission shaft scraped over my shoulder blades. The driver stopped before he'd gone all the way past me, shot the gears into forward again and spurted ahead. I stayed flattened and once more the car shot out from above me. This time I gathered myself and dove forward, rolling in a somersault. I'd just reached the end of it when I felt the huge hands grab my shoulders and lift me up.
I managed to plant one foot firmly enough, and half-spun around to see the giant Japanese and beyond him, my Cougar with the man getting out of it. I tried a backward blow at the huge man but he flung me down like a sack of potatoes and I landed half over a wooden crate. For all his size, the Japanese was quick as a cat, and he was on me as I hit the crate. I swung but he brushed the blow aside with an oak-like arm, and his counter-punch sent me sailing through the air.