Courage Under Fire (Silver Creek #2) - Lindsay McKenna Page 0,88

rear tire blow on his side of the truck.

NO! Gripping the wheel hard, he tried to stop the truck from sliding swiftly to the left.

Too late!

“HANG ON!” he yelled to Cari.

One moment, Cari heard the sounds of the road beneath them, the sound filling the cab. The next, the race of the big engine. They were floating! No, falling! She screamed when she realized they had slid off the road and were now heading downward into the canyon. Everything went into slow motion. She heard Chase grunt as another hail of bullets slammed broadside, into the truck. She felt a sting on her upper arm. Her eyes were tightly shut, her face pressed hard against her knees. They were falling!

Oh, God! They would all die!

Valkyrie shrieked over and over again, flapping wildly against the constraints of the cage.

The nose of the truck slowly came down . . . down . . . down . . .

They were going to die! Tears squeezed into Cari’s eyes. Who had shot at them? Why? Why? Her hands ached as she clung to her knees, bent over, holding on. What about Chase? She didn’t hear him! She was afraid to try and look up!

When would they hit bottom? How far would they fall?

And her stomach rolled with nausea as the truck began what felt like a slow motion turn. To her horror, they were now falling upside down!

The seat belt bit hard into her shoulder, feeling like a knife slicing into her as gravity pulled violently on her. She lost her grip on her knees, now held in place only by the seat belt. Without thinking, she jerked her arms around herself.

She had opened her eyes. The world was upside down. All she heard now was the engine, a sputtering, and the smell of smoke!

When would this end? When would they land? She knew she was going to die! There was no way to protect themselves. That canyon they’d just been forced into by those drug runners was two thousand feet deep!

Cari whimpered. She tried to call out Chase’s name, but only a hoarse cry broke from her contorted lips.

Suddenly, the cab of the truck struck something. Cari screamed as the entire roof was ripped off! The sound of metal being sheared and torn off, hurt her ears.

The truck’s nose suddenly dipped.

Cari’s seat belt yanked at her. She was jerked hard, forward as the nose of the truck struck the cliff face, plowing into it. Dirt and rocks flew into the now opened truck. She shut her eyes, feeling sand, like thousands of tiny grains, slamming into her unprotected face and arms.

There was a groan and a rumble.

She shut her eyes, the jolt so powerful, she felt faint, as if her arms and legs were going to be ripped out of her body, from where the harness pinned her against the seat.

The truck flipped!

It felt to Cari as if they were going end over end. Every time the heavier part, the front of the truck, struck the cliff, there was more rending, tearing, and everything shook around her. Somewhere in all that sound, she heard Valkyrie shriek, but with her eyes closed, she didn’t know if the hawk had been injured or killed.

Rocks and pebbles were flying like buckshot into the cab, and it felt to Cari like they were inside a washing machine, going around and around. The smell of smoke choked her. The truck struck nose-first, again. The harness jerked her so hard that she lost consciousness.

* * *

Smoke! Fire! Chase forced his lids open. Everything was quiet. The truck was sitting upright, on an angle, the nose pointed downward. He snapped his head to the right. Cari was barely opening her eyes, her hand bloody as she reached up to touch her brow. They were covered with a fine film of sand. Shaking his head, he tried to clear it, having banged it hard against the door itself, almost knocked out by the impact. All the windows had been blown out. His mind shifted into military gear, and he reacted as if they were surrounded by an unknown enemy.

“Cari!” he croaked. “Are you okay? Talk to me?” and he reached out, gripping her shoulder, but not hard enough to hurt her, just to make her focus because she looked dazed. So was he. “Cari!”

“I . . . uh . . .”

“Are you able to move?” Terror worked through him. He counted at least three times the truck had gone end over