towers for signals. We make one phone call, and they start looking for calls made outside the area. Of that handful, they start tracing them.”
When they reached the car, he hefted Michael into the back seat. When he scooted back out of the car, rain clinging to his lashes, he asked, “Won’t they need time to do that?”
“Unfortunately, no. They’ve got the government connections. Or at least shadow government connections. People who lack the scruples and would spy on their own mothers.” She tossed him the car keys. “This way, at least we’ll avoid immediate detection. It’s only temporary but—”
A loud crack pierced the air. The sand at their feet kicked up and sprayed their legs.
“Shit. We’ve got company, let’s get out of here.” Garrett drove for the driver’s side door.
Symone held back. “Wait, you go.”
He glared at her, his chest heaving. “Are you insane? They’re shooting at us. Get your ass in the car.”
“No. Remember the café we passed on the way in? I’ll meet you down there in twenty. I need to take care of them first.”
“Symone, no. You—”
“If I don’t, they’ll be on our tail. They might be already, but I have to try and create some space.”
He hung his head. “Symone, don’t—”
Another crack broke through the sheeting rain. They both ducked. “I’ll be fine. I promise. I finally found you. I’m not anxious to die. Now get to that café, I’ll be right there.”
Once in motion, Garrett didn’t look back, just hopped in the driver’s seat and engaged the four-wheel drive. Sand sprayed everywhere.
As he drove off, Symone turned her attention to the three Trackers hoofing it toward her with their guns up. Not willing to risk a nisulin shot, she stood still, accessing her core of energy.
Visualizing electric bombs, she stretched out her arms, wondering how far they would travel. Twin spheres ejected from her hands like bright balls of lightning. As the rain hit each sphere, sparks flew.
The first Tracker she hit flew back as his body contorted and jerked. Immediately his partner took cover behind a Chevy that was parked on the bluff. Running, each stride disturbing puddles and pools, she stooped by the downed Tracker and checked his pulse. She didn’t find one. A cold icy fist formed in her gut. She’d actually killed him.
Then she cause sight of his biometric gun. Nisulin. Well at least it was in self-defense. She caught site of the second gun. Standard issue Glock. He’d wanted to incapacitate her, then kill her. So much for the torture and kill angle.
Booming thunder cracked the night sky, chased by a firecracker pop. She dove out of the way, but still, she felt the lancing burn in her side. Clutching her hand to the pain, she hobbled behind a Jeep someone had forgotten to pull the cover on. Beneath her feet, the sand thickened to mud-like consistency. Pulling her hand from the wound, she hissed as the rain washed away the blood. Just what she needed, but at least it wasn’t a nisulin shot. She’d heal.
Even as the thought formed, the tingling that always accompanied her healing began. Her body rejected the bullet, pushing the lead out of the wound. Soon, there would be nothing left of the wound, not even a scar.
Blindly reaching around the front of the car, she fired a standard energy flare. Anyone hit with it should only be incapacitated. She hoped. But no telling what would happen with the rain. Maybe she was electrocuting them.
In full crouch, she duck-walked around the back of the Jeep. The Chevy was four cars away. If she could get the jump on him, that was two down and only five more to go. She could do this. Their future depended on it.
Dropping onto her hands, she verified the Tracker held his position. Over the rain, voices drifted on the howling wind. Only as she got closer did she realize that he was yelling into a walkie talkie. “She killed Aimes. Fucking lightning bolts out of her hands.”
A blurred whirl sounded with static on the line, and the voice came back. “Just drop her with a nisulin bullet, then kill her. We have our orders.”
More static. “She’s not like any terrorist I’ve ever seen. Why does she have powers?”
“Just do your job, I’m going after Garrett.”
“We’re too late. He already took off with the kid. Probably halfway across state lines now.”
“Shit. Reaper won’t be happy we lost him.”
“You fucking blame me for this, and I’ll—”
Another torrent of rain poured