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reened through the parking lot, spraying bullets in her direction. While she'd returned the fire, her jacket had moved aside enough not to be hit by the bullet that pierced her shoulder just below the collarbone. |
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Chris yanked the shirt open, splaying buttons onto the floor of the truck. A small, ugly hole marred the smooth skin of her left shoulder directly below the collarbone, matching the location of the bullethole in her blouse. Her skin was covered in blood, but for now it looked as though the bleeding had stopped. |
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Chris turned D.J. so he could look at her back. Smooth, silky skin. The bullet had not gone through. That could mean trouble. |
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The sound of a car coming down the road toward them made Chris tense and grab for D.J.'s .9mm, which had fallen behind her on the seat. The car continued past without slowing, and he breathed a sigh heavy with relief before putting down the gun. The incident reminded him that they had more problems than D.J.'s injury. The black van would be after them again soon. |
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With as much speed and care as he was capable of in the situation, Chris moved D.J. to the passenger seat and got behind the wheel of the Explorer. He had to avoid their pursuers, find a town, and then a hospital. Perhaps he should return to Outgamie; there had to be a hospital there. But did he dare risk returning to the freeway and running into the men who wanted them dead? |
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D.J. moaned, and Chris turned toward her. "D.J.?" |
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