Outlaw Mountain

Having her feet bound was like being caught in a life-and-death sack race. Hopping along, Joa

“Don’t do this, Dena,” Joa

“Shut up,” Dena said, following doggedly behind Joa

She was so focused on taping Joa

“Think about a plea bargain, Dena,” Joa

“I said, shut up,” Dena insisted. “I don’t want to hear it.”

By then, Joa

Pressed up against the wall and using that to help maintain her balance, Joa

Joa

The distance from where she was to the shears was only a matter of a few feet, but it might as well have been the length of a football field. Hopping and with her heart hammering in her chest, Joa

Crashing a rib against the corner of the workbench as she made her way past it in the dark, Joa

“Come on,” he was saying as he came. “I heard the talk on her police radio. The cops are on their way. Let’s go, Dena.” Just then, catching sight of Dena on the floor, he stopped short. “What the hell!” he exclaimed.

Huddled against the wall of tools with her hands still not freed from the tape, Joa

Standing on tiptoes, Joa

Ross never saw the danger or, if he did, the warning came too late for him to check his headlong attack. Momentum carried him forward and onto the upthrust blades of the shears. The force of the blow to her back sent Joa

“Why, you bitch!” he howled, rolling on the floor and clutching his bleeding abdomen. “You incredible bitch!”

Joa

“You’re going to help me,” he hissed. “You’re going to help me get up and out of here.”

Somehow, though, through it all-through being knocked down and then dragged on top of him-Joa

Joa

Joa

Then, after retrieving the shears and with both them and the Glock in hand, she made her way back to the Blazer. There was always a chance that Ross Jenkins’ vehicle was equipped with those new expensive tires, the ones you were supposed to be able to drive on for fifty miles even if they were plugged full of holes. Joa

When she finally reached the front of the Blazer, she did the same thing to the right front tire there, shooting it twice for good measure and sighing with satisfaction as the confined air came rushing out.

“Lady,” a voice directly behind her said. “What are you doing? Are you crazy or something? And what’s on that shears? It looks like blood.”

Joa

The boy hesitated, but for only an instant. Dropping his bike, he grabbed the bloody shears and snipped through the tape. First he freed Joa

“Thank you,” she said. “Now go. Get out of here before you get hurt.”

The boy scrambled for his bike.

“What’s your name?”

“Andrew,” he said. “Andrew Styles.”

“Where do you live?”

He pointed. “Two houses down,” he said.

“Go!” Joa

“But what about you?”

“I’m okay now. I’ll be fine.”