Grave Secrets (Manhunters 1)

“Sam,” Roman said. “When we pass you, drop in behind them. And when we reach a clearing, pin them in. We’re going to end this.”

“Roger and ready,” Sam sent back.

Savannah turned her gaze on Ian. “Is Jamison okay?”

“How’s our recruit doing?” Ian asked.

“I think he’s addicted. Having a grand old time. Big eyes, taking it all in. He especially likes it when the car spins around.”

Ian smiled for Savannah. “I think you’ve got a daredevil on your hands.”

She closed her eyes on a groan.

Punk-punk-punk, pink-pink, punk, punk, punk.

“Jesus,” Ian bit out. He knew the car was solid, but those mountains…

Punk-punk-punk. Zing. Pink-pink. Punk, punk, punk.

The deputies had taken a play from the Manhunters’ playbook and now drove side-by-side, shooting at the SUV from both directions.

“Ian.” Savannah’s thin, terrified voice pulled his gaze from the men behind him and followed her finger, pointed at the mountains on their left. “The snow’s shifting. If they don’t stop shooting—”

She pulled in a sharp breath.

Ian saw it. “Avalanche,” he confirmed to the team. “Left side.”

“Shit,” Roman bit out.

“You either have to run it,” Sam said, “or deal with the two behind you and the reinforcements coming in, which will outnumber all of us.”

A millisecond passed while Ian watched the mountain crumble and played out those very real scenarios in his head.

He and Roman seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same time and echoed each other with their solution: “Run it.”

Roman sped up, and Ian followed, foot to the floor, hands working to find the finesse required to control a vehicle on snow at this speed. He felt like they were racing a train, hoping to get ahead of it just enough to cross the tracks without being flattened.

Savannah mewled and pressed her forehead to her knees, then yelled, “Everly, you promised.”

“She keeps her promises, baby,” Ian told her. “But you’re not going to need it.”

As if to mock him, bowling-ball-size chunks of ice smashed the windshield. The sheer force of it pushed the car sideways. Coupled with their speed, the car spun out.

The steering wheel was wrenched from his hands. They went up on two wheels. Ian grabbed for the wheel and wrestled it back under control. The SUV dropped back to all four wheels, and Ian floored the gas.

“Punch it, Heller,” Roman yelled. “Punch it.”

In the rearview, a wave of snow swept through the valley. The cops behind Ian vanished, swallowed by the white monster.

“Come on, come on, come on—”

The edge of the avalanche clipped the rear bumper, spinning the car like a top. Savannah screamed. Then the momentum of the snow picked them up like a shell in the surf and toppled them over and over and over.

16

Savannah blinked her eyes open but immediately focused inside, on the pain thrumming through her body. Her head throbbed. Her back ached. Her left shoulder burned. In fact, just about every inch of her body hu

rt.