Once she left the gas station, she noticed the truck a few lengths behind her again. Several turns later, there was no longer any question she was being followed.
Thankfully, traffic was light. Tina gunned the gas pedal and shot forward, taking advantage of all eight cylinders to put a decent amount of distance between her and the cars behind her. When the road opened up to the straight quarter-mile stretch past the town limits, she jammed on the brakes and executed a sliding U-turn any stunt driver would be proud of. Once she was facing the opposite direction, she sped back toward town—and her pursuers.
When she spotted them—the driver was definitely a him, given the visible facial hair—she hung another U-ey, putting her behind him.
Heart racing, adrenaline pumping, she floored the accelerator, closing the gap between them. A flash of an arm from the passenger side was the only warning before a bottle hit her windshield and exploded, sending golden-colored liquid across the glass.
“You fuckers!” she yelled. She flipped on the wipers, even angrier when she saw the crack in her windshield.
A second bottle came hurtling back, connecting with her front end. A third quickly followed, this one heading for her driver’s side. Tina swerved and narrowly avoided it, growing angrier and more determined by the second.
Their narrow back window opened up, and Tina caught sight of the rifle barrel. She might have been angry, but she wasn’t stupid. She yanked the wheel hard to the right and decelerated but not before she heard a pop, and the right front end of her truck dropped suddenly.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Doc
Doc checked his phone again, frowning when it remained dark and message-free. Tina was late.
His plan was to greet her upon arrival and then occupy himself while the women had their coffee. What happened afterward would depend largely on Tina. If she was feeling up to it, they could take advantage of the beautiful spring day with a slow-paced walk along one of their many trails. If she wasn’t, they could hang in his trailer and watch a movie or something.
“She’ll be here,” Kate told him. “She’s probably just running behind.”
Maybe, but the growing knot in his gut told him it was more than that. He worried that perhaps Tina had pushed herself too hard, too soon and suffered a mild relapse. Or worse, she’d had another run-in with her brother over her weekly trips to Sanctuary and had a change of heart. Either way, he didn’t like it.
He went back inside, silently reciting the watched pot never boils rule. His scientific side recognized the ridiculousness of his own reasoning. Water would boil when it reached the correct conditions to do so regardless of whether or not anyone was there to witness it, and Tina would arrive when she arrived regardless of whether or not he was waiting on the steps to greet her.
Doc made his way to the rec room, finding only one other there—a relatively new guy who went by Yaz. It wasn’t unusual to find it so empty during the middle of the day, especially when the weather was nice.
Most of the residents were in their rooms or off doing something. Part of the Sanctuary philosophy was ensuring that everyone always had something useful to do. Exactly what that was depended on the individual. Some helped out in the kitchen. Others did general carpentry or landscaping, or if they had special skills—like Justin, the dog whisperer—they did whatever suited them best. Church firmly believed that everyone had something useful to contribute and strongly encouraged those around him to utilize their own unique strengths to do so.
Yaz looked up when Doc entered. “Up for a game?”
“Sure.”
Doc was a decent pool player, but Yaz was better. It was pure luck that Doc won the first game. Yaz easily won the second, neatly pocketing one ball after another with skill and precision.
They were just about to start the third game for a best two out of three match when Mad Dog poked his head into the room.
“Doc. Tina’s just arrived. You’re going to want to see this.”
Something about Mad Dog’s tone made Doc’s blood run cold.
“Continue this later?” Doc said to Yaz, setting his cue stick back in the rack.
“Sure, man. Just say when.”
“What’s going on?” Doc asked Mad Dog as they walked toward the front entrance.
“I think it’s better if you see it for yourself,” was Mad Dog’s decidedly unhelpful reply.
Doc understood when they stepped out of the main doors and he