Emily Locke 01 - Final Approach

raised her gun. I flung the other handful of dirt at her and dived for her knees. She thudded onto the ground before she could get off a shot, but Scud fired a round and missed.
    Trish yelled. “She’s right on top of me!”
    A car hummed up the main road. I squinted through the trees and thought I saw the flicker of headlights and taillights.
    I grabbed a thick shock of her hair and wrenched her head backward. She cried out and pried at my fingers. I used my other hand to rake fingernails over her face until I found her eyes, then I dug in. She screamed and let go of me, reaching instead for her face. I staggered to my feet and ran toward the road.
    Twigs and brush scraped my legs and I lost a shoe in the sticky mud. I knew Scud was close behind me.
    A car turned onto the dirt driveway ahead.
    I ran toward its lights, but it continued past me.
    “Wait! Help!”
    The car was going to the cabin.
    A shot fired; it was so loud it seemed the gun was right beside my head. Heavy footfalls tramped in the brush behind me. Scud was gaining speed. I tripped in a low spot and caught myself on a tree. The car kept its course.
    “Stop!” I screamed again.
    Another shot fired, and a sharp crack exploded from a tree in front of me. The car reversed. I dodged behind a tree and stayed low and still.
    From the driveway, someone shouted my name.
    It was Vince.
    I couldn’t answer without giving myself away.
    “Emily! Are you there?” he called again. “Are you okay? Emily?”
    His voice was getting louder. He was coming into the woods to look for me.
    “They’ve got guns!” I shouted.
    I sprinted for him.
    “This don’t concern you, Vince,” Scud yelled, and fired again.
    As I neared the driveway, I made out the area surrounding Vince’s car, but didn’t see him. I zigzagged to stay behind trees and finally hid behind one large enough to cover me.
    The car, still running, was in the driveway with its lights on. Vince had left the driver’s door open, and the interior was illuminated by the dome light. But I couldn’t spot Vince anywhere. Was he taking cover on the other side of the car?
    In the distance, a helicopter approached and the aggressive chop of its rotors told me it was closing in fast. Within moments a spotlight swept the woods around us. Its aimless ray was off-target, but I hoped it was enough to scare Trish and Scud.
    I caught sight of Scud’s flashlight beam; he was about twenty feet to my left and inching closer. I stayed low behind my tree.
    A gunshot sounded, and Scud toppled to the ground, doubled over. Vince bolted from the shadows and ran to the driver’s side of the car.
    “Emily!” he shouted. “Get in the car!”
    I emerged from the woods about ten feet in front of the car. I was hurrying toward its passenger door when I spotted a figure on the drive. Trish was the same distance behind the car as I was in front of it, and her gun was trained on me. I was trapped in the headlights of the car.
    “Drop it,” Vince said.
    She swung the gun toward him, but his weapon was already raised. Trish wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. I worried the same might not be true for Vince.
    “This isn’t about you,” she said to him. “Don’t make me do this.”
    He didn’t move.
    They stared at each other, weapons drawn, and I had the sensation more was being said silently between them than what I could imagine. Down the road, a shrill chirp sounded, followed by the beginning wails of several sirens.
    In a fluid motion, Trish whirled and redirected her aim on me. Vince fired twice. She collapsed in a heap on the edge of the woods.
    I started toward the car as he lowered the gun. He turned and reached for me with his other hand. I began to sob when his hand closed around mine.
    “When I heard what you were planning,” he said, “I called Trish to try to reason with her. Heard the train in the background and figured she was hiding up here. Your text message to Jeannie confirmed my hunch. This was her dad’s hunting cabin.”
    Above, the helicopter was deafening as its spotlight converged on the secluded old shack. Agents onboard would expect Trish and her henchmen to be inside. I panicked; they might not know about the kids. If they opened fire, Annette or Casey could be killed in the siege. I watched the helicopter hover and spin as it jockeyed for the best view. Then I turned to tell Vince why I had to go.
    It seemed his body jerked before I heard the round that hit him. A small patch of red