He pursed his lips, but gave a nod and led me down the hallway. Fortunately Luke used his sniffer to retrace our steps, but the hallways were no longer devoid of people. Halfway up the hall away from Stevens someone sounded the alarm. We rounded a corner and met with the sight of dozens of people in white coats mixed with guards and plainclothes workers. They were a colorful rainbow mix of panic, especially when a voice sounded over the intercom.
“Intruders in Sector One. I repeat, intruders in Sector One. Everyone to the containment rooms.”
Luke and I hit the wall when a half dozen panicked employees ran by. “Wow. Stevens wasn’t joking when he said he’d give us a distraction,” I quipped.
“It isn’t Stevens. Sector One is usually at the front of the building,” Luke told me.
“So who’s making the distraction?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll find out.” He grabbed my hand and led me through the chaos.
The guards were too disorganized to notice us, and we bypassed the sewer entrance for the doors at the front. The front of the building had a large, clean lobby, and the front wall was mostly large glass panes that gave a great view of the lot. All the lights were on outside, and the spotter lights were zoomed in on a vehicle doing wheelies in the very center of the lot. We raced to the front doors and peered out into the new and improved chaos.
The lone vehicle, a rickety old thing that was so beat up scrap parts looked better, was surrounded by a wreckage of jeeps and trucks. The vehicle had made its entrance through the main gates, and I saw the remains of the gates on the ground where they formerly proudly stood as testament to the impenetrability of the compound. Apparently they hadn’t counted on a crazed truck driver with a beat up truck plowing through their front gate on a suicide mission to destroy their front yard.
Now the truck spun in a wide circle and sprayed bullets across the entire lot, littering the ground with lead and silver. Security personnel lay on the ground, and many of them weren’t moving. Moving personnel were stationed behind overturned trucks, cargo containers, and stacks of crates.
I leaned toward the glass, but Luke grabbed my shoulder. “Duck!” he yelled.
We dove to the ground just before a hail of bullets busted through the glass, covering us in sharp, pointy debris. I heard a familiar cry and glanced at the vehicle. That’s when I realized it was Rick’s truck, and outside the passenger window was the old devil himself. He had an Uzi in his hands and was firing off bullets in every direction doling out indiscriminate justice on anything that moved. His laughter was the only thing louder than his weapon, and his face was split in a grin so wide I wondered if he was swallowing a gallon of bugs a minute. The driver was poor, ashen-faced Steve who looked like he’d rather be anywhere in hell then where he was at that moment.
“Where the hell did he get that Uzi?” I yelled at Luke.
“No idea, but we need to hurry.”
We jumped to our feet and sped through the open panes and across the lot toward Rick’s truck. The only problem was Rick wasn’t really paying attention to the rescue part of his plan, if he did have a plan, or cared about rescuing us, because Luke and I had to duck behind a pile of bullet-riddled crates to avoid getting shot. I glanced down and noticed a guard on the ground with bullet holes in him.
“Uh, I don’t think this is such a good hiding spot,” I commented.
Luke had his head tentatively stuck out one side of our cover. “No, so prepare yourself to run for the truck,” he told me.
I glanced around the other side of the crates and watched the truck spin in ever tighter wheelies. I had no idea someone could spin that many times without getting sick, though Steve was starting to look a little green. Also, there were a few armored trucks driving toward them, and Rick’s bullets weren’t stopping them.
The arrival of the armored vehicles distracted Rick long enough for us to bolt for the truck. We sped across the lit ground and were met with a barrage of bullets from above the building behind us. I glanced over my shoulder and saw a few snipers get into position. Friends of Lance, no doubt. “Company!” I yelled at Luke.
“Run faster!” he advised.
We made it to the spinning truck a dozen yards ahead of the armored trucks. Luke pulled me inside the bed and, once I was securely hugging the bed to avoid flying off, he crawled to the rear window. Rick noticed our coming and frowned. “I didn’t like your plan so I made my own. What took you?” He looked past us at the broken front of the building. “And where’s the idiot?”
“No time to explain,” Luke replied. He bent down and looked to Steve in the cab. “Get us out of here, Steve!” he yelled.
“Finally!” Steve yelped. He pulled the wheel steady and the truck jumped forward.
Unfortunately, forward turned out to be toward the half dozen armored vehicles, and some of those vehicles were not just armored, but armed with guns that made the Uzi look like a squirt gun. I raised my head in time to see some of those guns armed by werewolves that looked as merciful as Lance. Fortunately they weren’t shooting because Steve didn’t take his foot off the gas and we were barreling down on them. Rick ducked into the cab, grabbed the wheel, and gave it a good spin. The truck turned and teetered on two wheels as it just barely missed sliding its side into the front of the line of armored trucks.
The ever-reliable Steve kept his foot on the gas pedal and we took off across the remains of the compound lawn and through the broken gates. The armored trucks gave chase, as did about two dozen werewolf guards. The truck was on its last axle and couldn’t get up to its full speed, but we were going at a fast enough clip that any bump in the road sent us into the air and gravity pushed us down. Rick and Steve fought over the wheel while werewolves nipped at their respective doors.
Luke somehow managed to stand in the bed in time to be tackled by one of our furry followers. He wrestled around with his foe and I was pancaked between the bed and their rolling bodies. I growled, grasped the guard werewolf’s shoulders, wrenched him from my mate and tossed him overboard. Luke looked at me with wide eyes, then glanced over the side of the truck.
“You seem to have caused a domino effect,” he commented.
I saw what he meant when I noticed a tumble of dust behind us where I’d thrown the werewolf over the side and into his buddies. They were as thick as wolves on that side, and therefore unable to avoid their flying friend. Unfortunately, we still had the other side and the armored vehicles, but Rick had a plan. He shoved the Uzi into Steve’s hands, pulled Steve into the passenger seat and took control of the wheel.
“Hold on!” he yelled at us.
There wasn’t really much to hold onto as Rick turned the wheel sharply and the truck bounced off the road and into the woods. Luke grasped the edge of the cab window and grabbed onto me as we barreled through bushes and over rocks. The armored cars tried to follow, but their bulk meant they caught on trees and fell behind. Unfortunately, that couldn’t be said about our trackers. Once we were on a straight path Luke released me.
I grasped onto the side of the truck, pulled myself up to look over the edge, and my eyes widened as I beheld the half dozen glowing eyes catching us. “They’re gaining!” I yelled to Rick.
“She can’t go any faster!” he yelled back.
Luke looked out on the oncoming enemies and pursed his lips. “I will jump down and fend them off to bide you some time,” he told me.
My eyes widened and my heart beat faster. He was suggesting a suicide mission. “Like hell you are. If you’re jumping off then so am I,” I argued.
“This is something I have to do alone,” he insisted.
“If you’re going to get yourself killed then I’m going to be right there with you. Besides, they might not kill me, but Lance wants you dead real bad,” I countered.
Luke turned to me, grasped my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. His voice was soft, but firm. “Let me protect you one last time,” he pleaded.
Tears sprang into my eyes. “But-”
“Please.”
I bit my lip and hung my head. The pounding of our pursuers’ paws grew louder and louder. He was right, there wasn’t any choice. I raised my head and leapt forward to plant a passionate kiss on his lips. He wrapped his arms around me and I tried to keep my tears from staining this final moment. Luke pulled us apart and smiled at me. “Take care of yourself.”
I choked out a sob, but managed to return his smile. “You, too.”
Luke stood and dove off the end of the truck and into the cluster of werewolves biting at our tailgate. I rushed to the tailgate and watched them tumble to the ground. Luke tore into them with his teeth and claws like a man possessed, and fur and blood flew into the air. The attackers recovered enough so that several of them jumped on top of him in a doggy-pile of fur and fangs. That was the last scene I saw before the bumpy road curved and the trees blocked my view.
8
Luke dealt with the last of our obstacles. The truck flew unmolested through the dark swamp woods. Even the border was unguarded. I guessed everyone had been called back to the compound to help fend off the intruders. I sat limp in the bed with my back against the cab as the hours sped by and the sun rose, but its warmth didn’t reach me. My mate was gone, most of my friends were gone, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do with the information entrusted with me.