Page 87 of Slack Tide Kill

"They're on a boat," Bledd said. "The sewers will limit them. I'm guessing they'll cut east then north, manhaul the boat across St. Mary's Road at the bend then keep on toward Orgarswick."

"Akilota's been deployed to the Ears," Liam called from in back. "Local forces mounting toward an exclusion perimeter, AROs still 20 minutes out."

"Right here." Bledd pointed, and Sally made a hairpin turn onto St. Mary's Road. The willow hedges dropped away and visibility expanded, revealing empty husk fields stretching as far as she could see.

"How far?"

"You're coming up on the self-storage place now."

It passed in a flash, a grand house with a gated yard containing the white roofs of caravans beyond. Past it a large sewer ran alongside the road and Sally scanned ahead.

Nothing. More willows pollarded into bulbous fists. And then–

"There!" she shouted, pointing at a clutch of dark silhouettes in the distance, heads barely rising from a distant dip in the land.

"That's them," Bledd agreed.

"We have sighted the Rooks!" Liam shouted into the phone. "Right side of St. Mary's Road, about half a mile on from the self-storage place."

"We head them off," Bledd said calmly. "They're not expecting you here."

The road curved right and the Rooks' sewer arced left to meet it; their figures clearer now, three men on a moving boat, the roar of their outboard motor drilling into her head.

Sally pushed the Mustang to 70, fears sparking in her chest; what Edwin Pike had said about bearding a Rook in his den. Roarke had almost killed her in the marsh. Now there were three, and they were almost certainly armed, and the minutes to come played out in fast forward in Sally's head.

Racing up to where the sewer broached the road. Heading off the Rooks. And then–

Roarke Rook looked up. For a glimmering second, their eyes met, and he looked ahead to the intercept point.

He knew. He started shouting at his brothers.

What could Sally do? She had no weapons. No armed backup for another 20 minutes. No way to make them stop.

Except…

A mad thought rushed in her mind and she embraced it.

"Seatbelts!" she shouted and pulled off the road.

The Mustang thumped down the embankment, smashed through a wooden fence in an explosion of splinters then rocketed out across the open field.

"What are you doing?" Liam shouted behind her.

Bledd said nothing, only slipped his drone case to the footwell and tugged his seatbelt on. Sally pressed the gas and the Mustang ripped closer, the heads of the Rooks clearer than ever, watching her with wide eyes.

She leaned on the horn and the sound wailed out.

Then Roarke bent over and rose up from the bed of the boat with a shotgun in his hands.

"Holy shit!" Liam cried.

He pointed the barrel and Sally ducked as buckshot hammered sparks up the hood, pounding the windshield into starred fractals with a gut-deep crunch. The vehicle zagged, the safety glass held but she could barely see a thing as the boom pealed over them.

"Pull away, Sally!" Liam cried.

Sally fought for control on the slick grass, registered Liam's demand and saw right through it. Pull away now and they'd fire broadside through their side windows. Brake and he'd hit the windshield until it blew through.

Instead she hit the gas. She glimpsed Roarke's surprised face through the fractured glass, twisted the wheel just enough, then the Mustang bucked over the sewer's shallow embankment, flew for a split second, and hit.