Last Girls Alive (Detective Katie Scott #4) - Jennifer Chase Page 0,59

and broken bodies flooded her mind. She could actually smell gunfire and feel the intense heat of the afternoon on her face. The traumas that she had so carefully hidden away in the recesses of her mind broke free and swarmed her.

Realizing her cell had once again dislodged with the impact, she scrambled around for it in the pitch darkness, found it and stashed it deeply in her pocket. Pushing a door out of her way she managed to stand and call out for her partner.

“Gav?”

There was no response.

“Gav?” she called again, more frantic. She heard a noise—movement and a gasp. “Where are you?” she said more quietly, not wanting the person on the outside to hear her.

Reaching down, she moved through the container with her hands out in front of her, not wanting to lose her phone again, until she found McGaven, caught between a heavy piece of lumber and a door.

“Gav,” she said, putting her hands on his face—he stirred slightly. He had been knocked unconscious. She felt blood coming from his scalp. “You okay? Can you move at all?”

“No,” he muttered.

“Where’s the pain?”

“No pain. Just hard to breathe…”

Feeling around, Katie discovered that the door had wedged against him and was pressing hard into his chest. “Take it easy. Breathe slowly, evenly if you can. Let me see what I can do, okay?”

Though her hands were shaking uncontrollably, Katie moved around the door trapping McGaven and the dent of the container pushing in toward him. Shifting back and bracing herself, she put her feet up against the door and pushed with everything she had. But it wasn’t enough. Using her hands as her eyes, she found part of a piece of lumber to use like a crowbar.

It took her a moment to get it ready. The sound of the earthmover roared up again—prowling, hunting, and eager to do some damage.

“Gav, we have to brace for another hit.”

“Okay,” he barely said.

Katie wedged the wood as best she could and pulled down hard, putting all of her 125 pounds against it. She let out a yell of anger trying to shift it away from her partner. It moved a little… then a little more… then enough to free McGaven.

The diesel beast revved and was bearing down on the container.

“C’mon,” she said.

McGaven wiggled free. He grabbed Katie to maintain balance and headed for the door where there was the least number of stored items.

The third hit battered them hard. The ringing through the container was almost unbearable.

McGaven tried to use his weight and size to protect Katie, but they crashed against the side like floppy rag dolls.

Light trickled in, illuminating the metal container a little. They saw that there was a hole the size of a dinner plate where McGaven had been pinned. The strike would have crushed him if he had still been there. Now the metal was torn and folded from the impact.

The bulldozer seemed to be having trouble backing up as part of it was caught on the side of the container. Revving dangerously high, bumping up and down, screeching and groaning, it finally broke free.

Katie could hear Cisco barking, loud and nonstop from the car. He knew that Katie was in trouble and needed help. He was probably doing everything a dog could do to get to her. The back window had been left down about six inches. She wondered if he could get out.

“Cisco,” she shouted with torment in her voice. “What if he tries to bulldoze the cars?”

“Wait, where’s your back-door release?”

“I… I don’t have it on me,” she said. “I didn’t think I needed it. No… Cisco…” She kept back the tears.

“Where’s your gun?” said McGaven.

“I have a snub nose Colt right here.” She showed him her concealed holster on her side.

“Five shots?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Try to shoot the lock.”

“That’s not…” She abruptly didn’t finish because there was no time for negativity. Instead, she got into position.

McGaven covered his ears and gave her a nod.

She aimed at an angle that hopefully wouldn’t ricochet the bullet and hit one of them. Hearing the diesel engine and Cisco barking, she focused, stood back to the side, and squeezed the trigger. The .38 bullet hammered at the area, but nothing changed. People and events flashed through her mind: Cisco, her uncle, her parents, her dad barbecuing, hiking with Chad, and being sworn in at the sheriff’s department as a new detective.

“Again,” McGaven said, turning away from the impact.

Katie repeated the same action twice, hitting the same area, mutilating