Soulless The Girl in the Box - By Robert J. Crane Page 0,58
forward. “There are fresh tire tracks leading up the drive, the fence looks like it’s in pretty damned good repair, and some parts of that gatehouse look like they’ve been artificially aged.” He pointed at the windows. “Look at those. If the rest of the place is cracked and peeling, why do those windows look new? They’re tinted so dark you can’t see in them.” He squinted. “I think I see some really small security cameras, too. Why wouldn’t they remove those if the place is abandoned?”
We had come to a stop about a hundred feet from the gate, just looking. “Well,” Scott said, a little tense, “if we want, we can go check it out nice and slow, or we can start our trespassing with a little breaking and entering.”
I caught movement off the path behind the gate, but I couldn’t tell what, just a black blur. “I think we’re gonna need to start with a bang.”
Scott looked across at me, then back to the windshield. “Okay. You might wanna brace yourself.”
I heard Reed buckle his seatbelt in the back as Scott gunned the engine with his foot still on the brake, the sound of gravel hitting the back of the SUV drowning out any possibility of further conversation. He let loose the brakes and we surged forward, racing toward the gate. I saw it get larger, saw a head peek out of the gatehouse and then dodge back in as we collided with the chain link fencing. I heard the smash of metal on the hood, and the top of the gate whipsawed down and hit the roof of our car with a clash so loud I ducked in fear that it would buckle.
We continued to drive, the gate lodged on our car. I saw men in black uniforms on either side of us, diving for cover. I watched as two of them were hit by the edges of the gate and flew through the air as Scott continued to push the car forward, his teeth gritted and his hands clenching the wheel as he tried to steer.
We came around a bend and I had to catch my breath. At least a dozen guards were in the road in front of us, but that wasn’t what got me. It was one of them, with a long tube slung over his shoulder, down on one knee, the tube being fiddled with by one of the other guards as the man stuffed something onto the tip – a roughly potato-sized object. I watched him start to pull his hand away, his task completed. I yelled and my hand flew to my seatbelt, unfastening it. I could hear Reed in the backseat, already moving, doing the same.
“RPG!” I shouted and reached over to Scott, slapping the release on his seatbelt. “BAIL OUT!” I waited a half-second to see him grab the door handle and start to open it before I did the same. I saw Reed going out the back on the same side I was, and I hit the ground at a roll. There was an explosion as the car was hit with a rocket-propelled grenade as it sped forward, the chain-link gate still on the hood.
The explosion was loud and it felt like my hearing cut out when it happened. I felt the sting of rocks and sticks stabbing through my blouse as I rolled across the dirt sideways, a fern catching me in the face and blinding me. When I came to a stop I spit out leaves and pushed to my feet. The first time I had decided to roll up my sleeves and not wear gloves, I had to bail out of a vehicle into the woods at high speed. Ouch.
“You okay?” I heard Reed’s voice and nodded, still trying to get my bearings. We were slightly down from the road and I could hear distant shouting.
“Yeah,” I said, ignoring the ringing in my ears, “but we need to get to Scott.”
“And cross the open road where the men with guns have a clear line of sight on us?” Reed looked at me in disbelief.
“We’ll be careful,” I said, moving toward the embankment that led to the road. I bent over and climbed, poking my head up and looking the direction the car had gone. I hoped that it had wiped out the roadblock of guys they’d left for us, but when I looked I realized we weren’t that lucky. I saw guys swarming all over