The Nightmare Thief

She opened the luggage compartment. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

She froze. Then she screamed.

In the luggage compartment, a large green duffel bag had fallen partially open. A body was stuffed inside. A man’s blood-soaked shirt was visible. Autumn lurched back. Friedrich charged, grabbed her by the hair, and twisted her to her knees.

Gabe took the rifle in both hands and brought it up and got his finger on the trigger. But behind him came the sound of a slide being racked on a semiautomatic pistol. Von and Friedrich both had guns in their hands, aimed at his head.

“Put it down,” Von said.

Jo saw Gabe inhale. He was calculating. But the gunmen were too far apart to guarantee he could hit them both before they could get him. And there were too many people in the field of fire.

“On the ground,” Von said.

Gabe put the rifle down and raised his hands.

For a moment the air seemed to tremble. Then the young man with grier on the back of his shirt turned and bolted for the trees.

Friedrich swung his gun and sighted it on the kid’s back. The boy pounded toward the forest, arms flailing.

Autumn and Lark screamed, “No.”

“Friedrich,” Von yelled.

Friedrich fired. The shot blew Grier off his feet.

Chapter 11 (#ulink_6525575c-8145-5d99-95c6-bbf1baa9bf97)

Grier dropped to the dirt like a bag of sand. The shot echoed. Blood bloomed through his shirt. Autumn screamed, a loud, continuing wail.

Ritter shouted, “What are you doing?”

Jo lurched to her feet. And found a pistol pointed at her face.

“Don’t move,” Friedrich said.

A quicksilver fear rolled through her. Friedrich looked frantic. The gun was matte black. The bleak eye at the end of the barrel wandered across her face.

She struggled to keep her voice level. “I’m holding still. I’m unarmed.”

Peyton applauded. “Bravo.”

She wandered to the center of the clearing, offering a big, slow handclap. “Give Grier a hand.” She whistled. “Grier, you can get up. Take a bow.”

Autumn pressed a trembling hand to her mouth.

Peyton waved, broadly, at Jo and Gabe. “And welcome our newest escaped convicts.” She laughed again. “Don’t you get it? They’re with Edge.”

Dustin looked like he’d just pissed himself. Noah stood, hands raised, blinking like a strobe light. Gabe was sweeping the scene with his gaze, checking that nobody else with a weapon was behind him. He was looking for an out.

Von aimed his pistol at Ritter. “Get Grier out of sight. Into the trees.”

Ritter cringed across the clearing. He picked up Grier’s feet and began dragging him away. Von casually took out his phone and snapped a photo of the body.

Peyton watched, swaying. Grier’s face dragged along the dirt, painting a trail with blood. Slowly, finally, understanding fired in her eyes. She gasped. Then she ran for the trees jaggedly, arms extended, hands like starfish.

Von picked up the rifle and tossed it to Friedrich. “Get them all in the Hummer.”

He racked the slide on his pistol and charged after Peyton.

Autumn screamed, “No!”

Friedrich shoved her into the Hummer, then swung the gun toward Dustin. Hacking—“Don’t shoot me”—Dustin stumbled in after her. Autumn clutched at him. Friedrich leveled the gun at Noah’s knees.

“Chill, man. I’m going.” Hands out, gesturing for calm, Noah climbed in as well. Lark was right behind.

Friedrich grabbed Jo by the biceps and beckoned Gabe. “You too. Right now.”

Gabe’s gaze was riveted on Friedrich. On Friedrich’s momentum and direction and his jittering gun hand. Jo knew what he was thinking, what he was desperate to signal to her: Don’t get in the Hummer.

If she climbed in that vehicle she was trapped. The quicksilver ran cold in her veins. She balked in Friedrich’s grip.

He shoved the gun against her side and shouted at Gabe. “In, now. Or she gets a new orifice in her rib cage.”

“Don’t,” Gabe said. “Lower the weapon. I’ll get in.”

In the trees beyond the clearing, Peyton’s screams deteriorated into sobbing. Von reappeared, hauling the girl by her hair. She was barely keeping her feet beneath her.

Gabe climbed into the Hummer. Jo stood rigid on the dirt. Friedrich rose on his toes and put his orange mustache near her ear.

“This gun has fifteen in the magazine. If you’re not in the vehicle in two seconds, I’ll start with your boyfriend.”

Jo couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow. She climbed into the Hummer.

Von shoved Peyton in behind her, sobbing. The girl fell to her knees on the thick carpet. Lark grabbed her and held her tightly.

Ritter finished dragging Grier’s body to the trees and staggered back, tracked by the rifle under Friedrich’s gaze. Ritter’s eyes looked wild, spinning with shock.

“Hurry up,” Friedrich said.

Von turned to make sure Ritter was cooperating. Jo looked at Gabe. Last chance—the door on the far side of the vehicle. She scrambled across the Hummer.

Friedrich fired the pistol into the backseat. The report was shockingly loud. Fabric flew and cordite stank up the air. The screaming came from all directions.

“What the fuck?” Dustin yelled. His gaze rounded on Jo. “Hold still.”

He grabbed her by the collar of her jacket and yanked her back. She fell on her butt on the floor.

Jo sank her fingernails into his wrist. Then Gabe grabbed Dustin’s arm and twisted, quick and sharp.