At the first stop, Mel put the drone into the air and was hemmed in by Lacy and Spalding as they leaned close to see the monitor along with her. Predictably, Spalding pushed her to fly past the permitted area, but she politely held firm. Stepping in, Dale drew Spalding a few paces away, leaving Lacy and Mel to complete the flight.
“He does know he can’t film here, right?”
Lacy snorted delicately. “What he knows and what he knows are usually two different things. His preferences aside, we’re flying over this particular spot to gain insight and context for the set builders.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” Mel lowered her voice, “And it makes me feel better.”
On the monitor, she caught a flare of light where nothing manmade should be. Lacy didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Then again, she was here to keep Spalding in line. Watching for outside trouble wasn’t in her job description as the assistant.
Curious, Mel sent the drone a little closer and away again, keeping up the general flight pattern.
Suddenly, a loud crack split the air. Gunfire. A rifle. The sound was unmistakable to an expert. She tried to steer the drone in the direction of the shot, but it lurched, losing airspeed and altitude quickly. The shooter must have clipped the drone. Not an easy thing to do. She did her best to compensate, guiding the drone back to their position, but she wasn’t going to win the battle.
Thank goodness they’d set the video to upload automatically to a cloud storage site. “What’s wrong?” Lacy’s voice was tight, on the verge of panic.
“I’m not sure. A malfunction prob—” Mel swore. The drone camera winked out, destroyed when it hit the ground. At least the GPS tag would lead them to the crash site. Then it would be a matter of negotiating permission to hike off the trail and recover the drone. Hopefully Keith could help make that happen.
“Did you just crash?” Spalding demanded, hurrying over. “I need that footage. The setting is critical to this production.”
Mel ignored him, her focus on the monitor as she replayed the video. There had to be some sign of the shooter. Another gunshot shattered the morning calm, followed by a third. She counted, even as she reacted on instinct. One bullet whizzed by, too close. She shoved Lacy to the ground, pushing her toward the biggest sheltering rock between them and the shooter.
“Stay down,” she ordered, covering Lacy with her body. Mel reached for her handgun, but it wasn’t there. Even if it had been, she wouldn’t have had the range to return fire.
Curling in on herself, Lacy wept quietly.
“Are you hit?”
Lacy shook her head. She was bleeding a little from her cheek and her wrist, thanks to Mel’s force. “Sorry I was too rough.”
Lacy sniffled. “No, no. I’m okay.”
“Dale?” Mel peeked around, careful not to draw more fire. “Where’s Spalding?”
“Over here.” Dale had Spalding flat on the ground, in the scrub brush just off the cleared path. “We’re good.”
Mel’s phone started ringing. That would be Dean. He’d have to wait until she had everyone secure. “Keith!” She searched for him near the Jeep and saw one flattened tire. On the far side of the vehicle, she heard their guide radioing for emergency assistance.
“Good man.”
Surely the shooter would retreat before help arrived, though out here that could take some time. Mel laid her hand gently on Lacy’s shoulder. “It’s going to be fine. You’re okay.” In her head she swore a blue streak. This was what happened when she got too cocky. She’d been so sure any threat to the group would’ve arrived as a close-range kind of attack. “Everyone, stay low,” she called to the group. “Keep your heads down. Help is coming. How you holding up, Keith?”
“I’m good here,” the young man called back.
“Great.” Mel was impressed that his voice was so steady. “Can you reach the first aid kit without being seen?”
“I think so.”
Mel heard him scooting around on the far side of the vehicle. “Slide it this way, if you can.”
A moment later, a white metal box with a bold red cross on the top landed near her boot with a clatter. “Thanks.” She smiled at Lacy, helping her sit more comfortably against the rock. “Let’s get these scrapes cleaned up.”
“Y-your collar.” Lacy’s hand shook as she pointed to a spot near Mel’s left shoulder.
Mel tugged her jacket around to take a look. A bullet had passed straight through the fabric, leaving scorch marks behind. No wonder Lacy was shaking. That had been way too close.
Who the hell would shoot at them? A flash of anger surged through her system. She wanted a target and she wanted it now. She smothered the litany of retribution dancing on the tip of her tongue. Better to save the outburst for when she was alone. Her outrage would only scare Lacy again and raise more questions than she could answer.
With extreme control, she tended to Lacy’s scrapes, murmuring assurances. In her head, she reconstructed the incident, determined to assess who had been the target. From her pocket, her phone rang again and this time she picked up immediately.
“We’re fine,” she said before Dean could ask. “No injuries here.”
“We’re on the way to you.” Dean didn’t sound relieved, he sounded downright furious.
Well, that made two of them.
Whoever had pulled the trigger was about to discover they’d taken on more than they could handle.
* * *