THIRTY-TWO
Get us out of here, Nathan.” She grabbed the handgrip on the door.
“I’m working on it.” He put the truck in reverse.
The tires spun out, burning rubber and throwing pebbles, before getting traction. Nathan could only back away from the oncoming rush of deadly logs. He couldn’t drive them forward and out of harm’s way because the same man who took out the logging truck driver was now aiming his weapon at them.
“Get down!” Nathan shouted.
She ducked, as did he, though he maintained his grip on the steering wheel and his foot on the accelerator. Bullets pelted the windshield and the grill.
Erin gripped her cell and tried to call 911. The call wouldn’t go through because she couldn’t get a signal. The truck lurched, moving backward now. Speeding away from the bullets but not outrunning them. Ducking in the seat, she glanced through the passenger-side window to peek at the hill above. Logs continued to bounce and roll and would soon be upon them.
“Faster. You have to go faster!” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t think we’re going to make it.”
The truck bumped and wobbled.
“He took out the tires.” Nathan sounded both angry and determined.
Her protector. If anyone could get them out of this, it was Nathan.
She didn’t want to imagine the reasons why the shooter wanted to slow them down—what with logs bouncing down the hill above. Just bounce right over top of us, please.
“Are we going to make it?” Erin hated the fear and desperation resounding in her voice.
“I’m giving it all I got,” Nathan said, “but you might want to pray.”
She’d never stopped praying, but she would pray out loud. “Lord, please help us. Save us!”
Nathan opened his door and leaned out.
“What are you doing?”
“I need to see where I’m going. I don’t want to send us off the road to our deaths either.”
Now there was a great image—that gorgeous view of miles and miles of mountains and the drop that could kill them. Erin trembled as time seemed to drag on forever, and she looked up at the hill that appeared to ripple above them. The toppling timber had spread out across the hill and would roll over and crush them in mere seconds.
Were they about to die? She squeezed her eyes shut once again, her heart pounding in rhythm with the thunderous danger cascading toward them. Any moment now...
Tears surged. Her heart palpitated.
A powerful force rammed into the truck, spinning it. Erin was flung forward, but her seat belt kept her in place, though she dropped her cell phone. Her stomach lurched as fear invaded.
Nathan never released his grip on the steering wheel and shifted gears, accelerating forward this time. Had they come to the end of the road where it stopped with the rockslide?
He leaned toward her and peered out her window as well as the front windshield as if he could dodge the oncoming logs, the man with the gun momentarily forgotten.
Filling her vision, a log rushed directly for them but crashed into the truck bed and hung there, lifting the front end. It dropped down again, and Nathan accelerated, but the log dragged behind them. With the deflated tires, the addition of the log slowed the truck to a crawl, then to a complete stop. The tires spun but barely moved them.
“Get out! Get out and run.”
Erin hesitated for a few seconds, then shoved her door open and practically fell out. She righted herself and, watching for logs, ran back toward the rockslide. She dashed away from the crushing logs, second-guessing her decision to leave the truck, which had offered at least a modicum of protection.
After a look over her shoulder, she realized that Nathan hadn’t followed her. A log had toppled and jammed against the driver’s side of the truck.
“Nathan!” she shouted.
Pulse thundering in her ears, she wanted to rush forward to save him. But what could she do? She couldn’t remove the cause of the jam. Maybe he could crawl out on the passenger side.