behind him, and they were gaining ground.
“Son of a bitch!” He turned back and looked at Tornado, who was still growling fiercely at the noise. “Hang on, boy. This could get messy.”
“DAMN!” Blount shouted from the lead ATV. “I think he saw us!”
Payne nodded, even though he had no idea what Blount had screamed. All of Payne’s concentration was focused on the driver of the truck. Not Blount, the explosion, nor the pain in his arm. Everything—every thought, every breath, every beat of his heart—was devoted to the man that threatened Ariane. Payne would make him pay for his transgressions.
But he had to catch him first.
Little by little, second by second, Payne gained ground on the vehicle. He wasn’t sure how it was possible—the pickup truck had more horsepower and quicker acceleration than his ATV—but he was getting closer.
“I’m gonna make my move,” Blount yelled. “I’m gonna cut him off.”
Jones nodded in understanding as Blount pulled ahead like a marathon runner using his final kick. Five feet, then ten. His lead lengthened while his dreadlocks flapped in the wind like a tattered flag. Jones stared in amazement as Blount inched closer and closer to the truck.
“He’s gonna catch him!” Jones shouted. “Holy shit, he’s gonna catch him!”
HOLMES looked in his sideview mirror with great displeasure. Even though he drove the fastest vehicle, the trio was still gaining on him. “Come on, truck! What’s wrong with you?”
He pressed the gas pedal even harder, but it was already on the floor. There was nothing else he could do to increase his speed.
“Tornado!” he called through the back window. “Attack those men!”
The dog, who’d been watching the approach of the four-wheelers, barked in response. After locking its gaze on the nearest target, Tornado obtained top speed in three quick strides, then launched itself from the back of the truck with as much force as its legs could generate. The dog flew through the air like a white missile, aiming its sleek and powerful body at the closest threat it could find: Bennie Blount.
Tornado crashed into his face with such force that it shattered Blount’s nose and cheekbones on contact, knocking him from his vehicle at a nasty angle. As he fell to the ground, his leg snagged on the underside of the handlebar, forcing his vehicle to turn sideways. The awkward movement was too extreme for his Yamaha to handle, causing the Grizzly to flip over in a series of exaggerated somersaults until the spiraling vehicle burst into a massive ball of flames.
Luckily for Blount, he was thrown free of the ATV before the explosion occurred, but his broken body skidded helplessly until it came to a stop in Jones’s path.
Reacting quickly, Jones leaned hard to the left, slipping past his ally by less than a foot. Unfortunately, as he surged around Blount, he found himself heading for a different catastrophe. Blount’s out-of-control vehicle, still tumbling in a pronounced spin, sprang sideways and landed squarely in front of him. The two ATVs smashed together with a metallic scream, launching Jones over the handlebars of the Grizzly and onto the hard ground beyond the fiery wreck.
Payne saw the accident out of the corner of his eye—the gruesome collision of the two vehicles and his best friend’s violent spill—but realized there was nothing he could do to help. As much as he wanted to return to the crash and offer his assistance, he knew he couldn’t afford to. It pained him to be so selfish, so uncaring toward Jones, but he realized if he turned around now, he might lose track of Ariane forever. And he just couldn’t risk that possibility.
***
DESPITE the thick layer of fog that clouded his mind, Bennie Blount was able to recall many details of the accident. The truck, the ATV, the vicious impact of the dog.
God, he suddenly realized, it was a miracle that he was even alive.
While giving his body a moment to recuperate, Blount tried to clear the cobwebs in his brain but was unable to snap out of his accident-induced haze. His head throbbed with every beat of his pounding heart, and his vision came and went at unannounced intervals, making it all but impossible to concentrate. He tried to focus on something simple—the names of his family members, his childhood home, what he ate for dinner—but his concentration was distracted by the warm sensation that slowly engulfed his face.
The feeling, unlike anything he had ever experienced, started in his cheeks and gradually crawled toward his eyes