There was little cover in the parking lot. A few trees and shrubs spread out, but most of it was asphalt. She glanced around uneasily.
Brady immediately stepped back toward her. The bullet caught him low on his thigh and spun him around. He went down hard, his large body sprawling out, but his gun was still rock steady in his hand. Saber dropped down and crawled to where he lay.
"Get to cover."
"How bad?" She put both hands over his heart to feel the extent of the damage.
Brady shoved at her. "He'll be coming to finish me off. Get the hell out of here, Saber. There's no cover."
She caught his arm. "Push with your feet. Hurry."
"Leave me. You've got to get out of here." But he pushed with his heels as she dragged him between the cars.
"Shoot out the lights."
Brady didn't ask questions, he fired several shots. Glass shattered, raining down from all four corners of the lot.
"Well, at least you're a good shot." She renewed her grip on his arm. "Keep moving."
"I hope you have a plan."
"I always have a plan." Saber kept dragging him, staying low to the ground. Let their attacker think they were sheltering between the cars. "I can see in the dark, like a cat, Brady. Keep moving, we only have to make it to the edge there."
"There's a dropoff."
"Yeah, I know." She'd studied the area thoroughly over the past year, committing the landscape to memory just in case she had to escape fast. She figured this qualified.
"Saaaaber." The voice sounded eerie coming out of the dark. "Saaaaber."
"Great. It's the whack job sperm donor. Sheesh."
Brady muffled his snort.
Saber pulled at his arm harder, silently cursing that she didn't have the kind of strength needed for carrying big men. Whitney had physically enhanced her, but more with the ability to jump, to turn herself into a pretzel, get in small places. Her strength was more than adequate for lifting herself and dangling for long periods of time by her fingertips, but Brady was nearly dead weight. She was beginning to sweat, fearing they might not make it.
"When this is over, lose a little weight, Brady," she hissed in his ear.
"It's all muscle, ma'am."
There was little moon, so he couldn't appreciate the eye rolling. She could see the stain spreading now, inky black in the dark. "What is it about Navy SEALs? Do you all have to be so macho?"
She was talking more to distract herself from the task of pulling Brady's large body and the fear of a bullet striking them. She kept close to the cars as long as she could before dragging him into the open. They had to go slow, not draw the eye. Hopefully their attacker would be concentrating on watching between the cars. It would make sense for them to try to stay concealed and the cars were the only real cover available.
"Saaaaber." The call came again. Distorted. Taunting. Disturbed.
They stayed silent as they made their way with painstaking slowness across the ten feet separating the asphalt from the rough terrain. The wild grass was kept low around the edges of the parking lot to minimize the risk of fire.
"Be ready with your gun, Brady," she whispered. "We're going to be very exposed right here. Hopefully I can get you onto the grass without drawing his eye. It's going to hurt like hell. Are you ready?"
Brady gripped his gun and nodded.
Saber backed onto the curb, staying as low as possible. She hooked Brady under his arms and heaved, dragging him over the bump. His breath left his body in a rush, but he remained silent as they fell backward onto the grass. They lay gasping for breath, Saber under the upper half of Brady's body.
She put her mouth against his ear. "There's a ledge, a large one, just behind us. I'm going to try to get you there. Let's just rest for a minute." She could feel Brady's heart racing. His pulse was thready. He was heading toward shock. His skin had gone clammy. "Can you hang on a little longer, Brady? I'll get you help as soon as I can."
Brady managed a brief grin. "My backside's a little raw, ma'am."
In spite of the gravity of their situation, she found herself smiling back. "Come on, tough guy, let's move."
All the while she was listening for a sound, anything that would tell her where their attacker was. She watched the parking lot as she dragged Brady backward. Now that they'd been in the dark awhile, eyes were adjusting, which wasn't a good thing. She felt the need to move faster, but forced herself to keep their pace slow.
She saw a figure move, running from the side of the building to the shelter of one of the trees. Her heart jumped. She took a breath and allowed adrenaline to give her the rush she was going to need.
"He's over by the smaller of the trees closest to the station. Keep your eye on him. If he goes for the car, can you hit him? Are you good with that gun? Because, seriously, if you're not, I am. The thing is, though, it will make me sick--really, really sick--to kill."
He was silent for a moment, his grin widening. "Just how good are you with a gun?"
"I've had a lot of weapons training and I qualify as an expert marksman."
"You're just full of surprises. And mean as a snake. You want that son of a bitch dead, don't you?"
"I want him gone. And I don't want to have to worry that he's going to come after me again." She didn't know any other way to shoot than to shoot to kill.
They were right at the ledge now. She didn't want Brady to drop to the other side until he fired the shot or gave her the gun. They'd only have one shot at it. Once he'd given away their position, she'd have to stash him and draw the attacker away from him. Her only hope was that the madman didn't want to kill her right away. Whatever this was--whoever it was--it had nothing t
o do with the army and the investigation Jess was conducting. The man was a stalker--her stalker.
They lay in the thin grass, willing the man to go toward the cars. He called out Saber's name again, the sound so strange she realized he had to be using a device to distort the tone enough to disguise it. She knew him. She always identified people by their particular biorhythm, the way their body was unique. She had to tune out everything else and just hear him if she was going to recognize him. And that meant she couldn't do it until she could get far enough away from Brady so his heartbeat wouldn't interfere.
Everything to her was an electrical current--a kind of code--and she knew if she could get close enough, her body would pick her stalker's rhythm up.
"He's moving," Brady said.
She blinked to bring the shadowy figure into focus. He took a couple of tentative steps. Brady brought the gun up.
"I might be able to hit him," he said. "The company van is blocking him, but I might tag him if he comes out into the open."
"Go for it if you think you can."
He flicked her one quick glance and then shifted to get into a better position. His hand was shaking. Sweat dripped into his eyes.
Their attacker crouched low, looked left and right, and then ran toward the cars. The sound of his boots hitting the asphalt seemed overly loud in the silence.
Saber took the gun from Brady's hand, aimed, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet caught the man low, slamming him backward. The sound of the gunshot reverberated across the parking lot. He yelled and fired off several rounds as he went down, shooting wildly. The barrage of bullets hit cars and trees and went into the dirt, but didn't come close to them.
Saber pushed to her feet. She had very little time. Already the violent energy was rushing to overtake her. Brady tried to catch her with an outstretched hand, but she brushed past him and ran toward the downed man, the gun rock steady on him. She had to finish him before the energy hit her and she went down. There was no one else to protect Brady, and his wound was serious.
"Don't!" Brady called sharply.
She was aware of him struggling to get to his feet, but she couldn't stay and help. The wounded man thrashed on the ground, cursing aloud, and she gripped the gun harder, her stomach churning. She willed him to turn the gun on her. She didn't want to kill him in cold blood--like an assassin. She wanted it to at least be self-defense.