Shadow Flight (Shadow Riders 5)

Air moved through her lungs, in and out, no change as she waited for him to turn around.

The driver suddenly cranked up the radio so loud it blasted throughout the cab, making a statement, telling them all he didn’t want any further problems. The moment they all settled, she put her hands on either side of Cruz’s head and wrenched, using the signature kill of all the shadow riders.

“Justice is served,” she murmured under her breath and settled his head in the exact position it had been in.

She waited a heartbeat. A second one. No one noticed. No one cared to check on Cruz to see if he was okay after Eber’s vicious treatment. If someone did notice, they would hopefully attribute his death to Eber’s elbow.

She watched Lon as he shoved his folded jacket under his head against the window and then removed it. He positioned it on the back of the seat under his neck twice and then moved it again. Clearly, he was uncomfortable, but he was careful not to bump into Eber, who was taking up more than his share of space on the seat.

Eber knew it, too. He inched his elbows out, shoving into both Cruz and Lon. Then when Cruz didn’t give him a reaction, he turned his back toward Lon, shoving into him, forcing him closer to the window. There was a malicious little grin on his face.

Emmanuelle didn’t hesitate. She gripped Lon’s head and wrenched. The crack couldn’t be heard over the blasting music, but his jacket started to slip out from under his neck. She had to catch it, and for a moment, the passenger in the front seat started to turn toward the back, and she froze. Brio said something to him and he turned back, leaning closer to the driver to hear. She positioned the jacket under Lon’s head, whispered the required proclamation and sank back down, this time directly behind Eber. He would be the toughest one. Once she had him, she could crawl over the bodies and kill the passenger in the front of the cab and then the driver. That could be accomplished in seconds. Then she would drive the truck to wherever the destination was. Brio had programmed the address into the GPS. She just had to follow directions.

Watching in the rearview mirror, Emmanuelle took her time. One needed to be patient. Even if they reached their destination, she would still have time to kill Eber and possibly the others. It might be difficult depending on where they parked, but it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. She was fast, she knew that.

Eber played on his phone, eventually hunching to gain even more room, still uncomfortable. He straightened, spreading his knees wide as well as his elbows, head down, looking at his screen. The occupants in the front seat watched the road and discussed something she couldn’t catch above the pounding beat of the music, so Emmanuelle ignored them.

She rose up, caught Eber’s head between her palms and wrenched. The crack was satisfying. “Justice is served,” she whispered.

Shoving him to one side, she was over the seat and on the passenger before either he or the driver even knew she was there. She took out the man in the passenger seat without a problem. The driver fumbled for a gun, shouting profanities at her as he tried to bring it up from where he had placed it in the console between the seats.

Emmanuelle had one foot on the console, preventing him from pulling the gun out while she gripped his head in her hands. He fought by throwing himself around, but he had one hand on the box between the seats, still trying for his weapon, and one on the steering wheel. He could do little more than throw his head around. She simply used the leverage of her body and the technique she’d learned from the time she was a toddler and broke his neck. The moment she did, she pushed his body away from the wheel.

It took strength to drag him up and off the gas pedal and shove him against the driver’s side door, but she slid smoothly into the driver’s seat, so the exchange barely took seconds. She was grateful for all the upper body work she did every day. She could never have pushed that deadweight off the seat had she not worked out so hard for so long. It sucked that he was squished up against her as she drove, but it couldn’t be helped.

Fortunately, it was a fairly short distance before the lead vehicle was signaling to turn off the highway. At their destination, a small diner just on the edge of the city, she slowed as the other two vehicles pulled right up to the front. The 4Runner parked in the handicapped space. She didn’t pull into the lot. Instead, she deliberately positioned the truck so a shadow, thrown by the only overhead light, fell across the driver’s side door just to the right of the parking lot. Leaving the truck running, she opened the door, allowing the dead body of the driver to fall onto the ground into the brush. She hopped out, sliding straight into the shadow. It took her fast, shooting her up and over landscaping into a small patch of grass where an old dilapidated gazebo with the roof caving in sat on a cracked concrete slab, surrounded by rock and overgrown weeds.