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As Joa
She was close enough, too, to hear the sound of hurrying footsteps-footfalls that moved away from her rather than toward her. The sound told her that the gunman was most likely retreating, scurrying back toward the Hummer. Joa
She needed to keep him from gaining that advantage, but how? Maybe she could use Dick’s shotgun to put a hole in the monster Hummer’s metal-shrouded radiator, but she wasn’t sure that would work. Besides, she couldn’t risk taking a head-on shot at a vehicle that might have a hostage imprisoned inside.
At that moment, Joa
Clutching the shotgun in the crook of her arm, Joa
In the process of dodging back, the shotgun somehow slipped from her sweaty grasp and went skittering down the rocky slope. The Hummer roared past Joa
Joa
Joa
Clambering down over rocks and through skin-shredding clumps of bear grass, Joa
Kneeling on the ground, she steadied her gun hand with the other one and strained to see and hear through the darkness. With the noisy chopper hovering above her, it was hard to tell for sure, but every once in a while, Joa
Rising to a crouch, she scrambled a few feet closer to the Hummer. “Come out,” she ordered, counting on the clattering echo of the noisy helicopter engine to help disguise her exact position. “Give up and come out with your hands up.”
This time she definitely did see movement in the Hummer. Slowly, a male figure materialized out of the shadowy wreck-age. As the wandering searchlight once again flooded the area with artificial light, De
Heedless of her own safety, Joa
Hacker nodded wordlessly. The man didn’t seem badly hurt. He was dazed and confused, but the blood on his face seemed to be coming from what looked to be a superficial scalp wound.
“And the gunman? Where’s he?”
The injured man pointed a shaky finger toward the Hummer. “He’s in there,” Hacker managed.
‘‘One or two?” Joa
“What?” Hacker returned uncomprehendingly.
Joa
With that, she turned her attention back to the Hummer. Suddenly the helicopter beat a retreat. In the silence left be-hind, Joa
“Help,” a man’s voice begged. “Please help me. I’m trapped. My arm is stuck, and I can’t get it out.”
Realizing the very words themselves might be a trap, Joa
“I don’t have any weapons,” the man whined. “Please. It’s my arm. It’s caught between the truck and the ground or some-thing. You have to help me. Please.”
Warily, Joa
“It hurts so bad.” He moaned. “Please help me.”
Joa
“Please,” the man insisted again. “If you don’t help me, I’ll lose my arm.”
Joa
“Be still,” she said, keeping her distance. “Help’s on the way.”
“It’ll be too late. My arm. What’s going to happen to it?”
“Hold on, Sheriff Brady,” Ernie Carpenter called from some-where above them. “We hear you. We’ll be right there.”
Beams of light danced around her as at least two people, carrying flashlights, clambered down the steep hillside. Then the helicopter resumed its previous position, hovering directly over the wrecked cars and bathing the whole area in a wide halo of brilliant light.