Page 59 of Risk of a Lifetime
“This time of year, probably won’t be light until five-thirty, six, maybe later.”
“Getting close.” Cain turned the truck onto what had to be a rutted, gravel road from the bounce and jog motions. “Just so you know, I’ve got a guy waiting alongside the road where we’re gonna stop.”
JB’s jaw clenched. “Who?”
“Don’t worry. He’s okay.” Cain glanced back. “I wouldn’t bring him in otherwise.”
She could see the look on her husband’s face. He wasn’t convinced. Wasn’t happy about the change. His hand hadn’t left the Glock in his shoulder holster since the guy was mentioned. She tensed right along with him.
“Why?” JB asked.
“Figured we need a diversion in case we are being followed.” Cain flashed his lights. “Me and him will do a deal out here in the middle of nowhere. And, of course, first I’ll want a sample. Should give you enough cover time to get a good ways into the woods.”
“Does he know we’re in here?”
“He knows someone’s here.”
JB eased the gun from his holster, motioned her to the far side of the floor bed. She moved quick and silent. Her insides churned with nerves and nausea and nagging stomach cramps. She shouldn’t have eaten the burger. Scared didn’t even begin to describe what she felt, except that underneath it all was the knowledge that her husband would do what had to be done. And she’d do the same.
Cain stopped the truck, backed up, and angled the truck bed toward what must be the woods, front end to the pavement. Someone coming down the road wouldn’t see them get out. The engine purred into a parked rumble, the slight illumination from the headlights clicked to blackness.
“Keep your finger off the trigger. The man’s okay.” Cain said. “If I wanted to take you two out, you’d already be dead.”
“You might have tried. Let’s get this done.” JB turned onto his knees, holstered the Glock, and then rested his hand on the door handle. “Cain?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks, man. I owe you one.”
Cain nodded, opened the driver’s side door, and then jumped out.
JB clicked the rear, passenger door open at the same time. Marcy crawled behind him as he slid from the truck, then he held out his hand to her. He crouched, Glock back in his hand, and pointed at the rear of the truck bed. She knew to wait until he motioned, but she hitched the backpack into place, then patted her pocketed gun one more time.
“Hey, there.” Cain’s words came from behind them now. Evidently, someone else had pulled up. “I hear you’re the man with the good stuff around here.”
“Where’d you hear that?” The other man’s voice held a heavy Texas twang.
JB motioned her to get out of the truck, stand behind him. She did exactly as he said, as fast as she could, as quietly as she could. She wouldn’t let him down.
“Some guy back at the bar said this road held pure gold.” Cain’s voice had taken on a friendly, down-home country drawl. “Figured I’d stop by. See what you got.”
“What you looking for?” the other man asked.
“Maybe a little…”
JB jerked Marcy forward. Crouching, they ran into the woods. Further and further. Trees and more trees blocked their path. He tried to keep the limbs from flying back to hit her once he passed. Some didn’t, some did. A trickle of warm blood oozed down her cheek after one blindsided her like a whip. Bushes and thorns grabbed at her jeans. Large, low-lying rocks seized her footing. She tripped. Fell. Knocked her chin on the ground. JB grabbed her and lifted her straight to her feet.
She looped her thumbs under the straps. He turned back to his trail-finding mode and surged ahead. She followed. One foot in front of the other. Her lungs burned. Leg muscles tensed. She needed water, needed rest. How long had it been since they left the warmth of the truck at the edge of the woods? Still she followed. Her right calf cramped, and she grimaced with a reactive groan.
JB turned. The set of his jaw conveyed his anger at the unexpected sound, then his expression shifted to concern. He laid her on the ground, massaged her calves, grabbed a bottle of what looked like water from his backpack, and motioned her to drink. The taste screamed of electrolytes. She took half and gave him the rest. He massaged her legs until she motioned to stand.
On her feet again, she looped her thumbs under the straps one more time.
He leaned in, placed his cheek against hers. “Not much further, sugar.”
Her mind shouted how much, but she didn’t ask.
He forged ahead.
