Flat Line

by J. M. Madden

  Luckily, a red haired mountain of a man was. Mac had returned for him. Just as Parker was lifted to his feet, Andy slammed the car to a stop beside them, grass and dirt churning.

  Parker had a glimpse of her pale, terrified face just before Mac helped him into the back seat of the vehicle. Parker groaned as he lurched across to the other side and lowered the window. He'd kept hold of his weapon, but he could not spot a target. Whoever had been shooting at him from the trees had apparently moved. Or they were hunkered down and reloading.

  "You need to get us the fuck out of here, Andy."

  Without a word, she floored it. The wheels spun in the soft grass, then caught hold and launched them across the space. As they reached the other side of the park the gunfire started again. Parker heard a thunk against the rear of the vehicle then they were going airborne. They landed hard and he heard the hum of brick streets beneath the tires. Scanning the area behind them he watched for signs of pursuit, but Andy had apparently slipped them again.

  "Make us disappear, Andy. Get us into traffic."

  She did exactly that. Within just a few minutes they were merging onto I70 eastbound and the morning rush hour. Any other time he'd have bitched about the bumper to bumper cars, but right now they served a purpose.

  His adrenaline was beginning to equalize, though, allowing pain to creep in. His legs were throbbing, but it was a drop in the bucket compared to the blazing pain in his right side. He looked down at himself and he could tell he was bleeding pretty good. Parker pulled his shirt up and cringed at the sight of the bullet wound in his side. Reaching his hand around his torso, he felt to the back. Yup, there it was. The exit wound. It was close enough to his side, though, that he didn’t think anything vital had been hit.

  Parker looked for something to put pressure against the wound. There was a maroon towel on the floorboard and a small throw blanket on the seat. Reaching for the towel he folded it up into a length about a foot long and pressed it against the wound.

  "Did we kill a kid back there?"

  Andy's frantic golden eyes met his in the rearview mirror. He shook his head. "Nope. I shot one in the leg and the other in the shoulder. They'll both live to terrorize again."

  She seemed to completely miss the dry humor. "I can't believe this is going on. How the hell did my life go to hell so quickly? How do we get out of this?"

  She seemed to be asking him an actual question. Parker shrugged. "I think we disappear for a few days. If we play it right they'll never even notice we left. They know court is in a few days so they won't expect us to leave."

  "So, you think it's connected to the al Fareq case?" She shook her head. "Of course it is, stupid."

  She had a death grip on the steering wheel, her eyes staring ahead dazedly.

  "Andy, you need to watch your speed and be aware of what is around you. I don't think we were followed but it's hard to tell in this traffic. We need to come up with a place to stay."

  She nodded, her foot easing off the gas pedal. She merged into the right-hand lane and set the cruise control, then, finally, some of the tension went out of her shoulders.

  "I have an idea on where we can go. It's a few hours away but I know of a cabin in West Virginia."

  "West Virginia," Mac asked incredulously. "I can't go to West Virginia."

  "Why not? It's out of their reach."

  "I have obligations," he said quickly. "Things I can't leave alone for several days."

  "I think your obligations will wait on you. Are they really more important than your life?"

  Mac looked out the side window. He looked fine, considering what he'd just been through. His hat still perched on his fuzzy hair and his clothes were no more ruffled than when he'd sat on the bench. Pulling a phone from his pocket he texted someone, then sat brooding.

  How had Parker ended up with the shitty end of the stick today? Hadn't he had enough pain in his life? Even as he thought it a spasm of pain made him hunch into himself. Breathing hard, he tried to concentrate on something else, but it was hard.

  Gravity was getting harder to fight.

  "You should call your boss, Andy, and fill him in on what just happened. He's going to have to send a cleaning crew out."

  Nodding she reached for her phone but he was too far gone to care. He let his eyes drift closed as he slid down in the seat.

  Chapter 5

  It wasn't until Andromeda hung up from Mike that she realized Parker wasn't running his usual constant commentary. She glanced back at him. He looked to be ass out asleep. Could he really be that unconcerned?

  She looked back at the interstate, a little put out. How had she become the one everyone was relying upon?

  "Is he okay?" she asked Mac.

  The older man craned his head around to look at Parker. "I suppose so. Want me to wake him up?"

  "No," she said slowly. Then she reconsidered. "Yes, wake him please."

  Mac turned in his seat and prodded at Parker. "Hey, boy. You picked a damn fool time to sleep."

  Parker turned his head but didn't rouse. Andromeda thought she heard him murmur something but couldn't make it out. Parker used to be a really light sleeper. That prodding should have woken him up easily.

  "There's an exit coming up and I need gas anyway."

  Mac turned back in his seat and looked ahead at the large truck stop looming at the side of the interstate. "We might go ahead and get some snacks and stuff too. Do you know where in West Virginia we're going?"

  Andromeda nodded but didn't tell him where. Years ago, she'd represented a woman in a brutal rape and assault case. She'd gotten a conviction against the hospital administration and a hefty settlement because of their negligence. The woman, Rosalind White, had gained Andromeda's respect and they'd become good friends. Rosalind lived in Georgia now, but she had a cabin in the woods of West Virginia. They'd met there several times over the years for little escape weekends, and Roz had told Andy she could use the cabin any time. So that was where they were headed.

  Andromeda put her blinker on and swung off the ramp then into the gas station parking lot. Mac headed inside to stock up on what he needed. She used her card and inserted the nozzle to pump gas, then opened the passenger side door to check on Parker. His head had been resting against the door and he didn't respond as she reached out to touch his face.

  "Parker!"

  Now truly alarmed Andromeda tapped his cheeks. He blinked his eyes open but didn't seem to be focusing.

  "Parker, what's wrong? Why weren't you answering?"

  He blinked, his eyes clearing. "Andy? Why are you upside down?"

  She grinned at him. "I'm not. You are. You're lying on the back seat of my car."

  Parker craned his neck up to look and hissed in a breath, his hands going to his abdomen. Andromeda focused on the area and realized that it was wet. Was that blood?

  Reaching out she pulled the black t-shirt away from his abdomen. The towel that she used for the inside of her windows was wrapped around his middle and she could tell it was soaked as well. Had he been shot and they just hadn't noticed it?

  The gas nozzle clicked off and she looked around at the crowded pumps. This wasn't the place to check out his gunshot wound, but they needed to. Maybe she could drive around back or over to one of the corners where it was less crowded.

  Mac opened the other rear door and looked through the vehicle at her.

  "I think Parker's been shot," she told him quietly.

  Mac's eyes widened comically and he stilled, then lurched into action. "Finish up with the gas. We need to get somewhere where we can check him out. There are too many people around here."

  She did as she was told, buttoning things up as quickly as she could. She shut the rear door carefully, making sure not to bang his head. Then she hopped in the driver's seat and pulled away from the pumps. They circled the gas station. On the backside of the building, near the giant grease traps, the parking lot was completely deserted. Probably because it stank so bad. Mac got out
as soon as she parked and opened the back door. Andromeda got up onto her knees between the front seats and leaned into the back, again lifting Parker's shirt. Then, with Mac nodding her on, she peeled away the towel. There was an angry hole, so red it was black, beneath the padding and as soon as she pulled the terrycloth away from his body fresh blood welled and began to run down his side.

  "Oh, fuck," she breathed.

  Even Mac looked a little rattled. "Hold that cloth on the wound. I'm going to go back into the gas station and see what kind of first aid kits they have. I'll get some bottled water and see what else they have we can use."

  Andromeda nodded and pushed the towel against the wound. Parker groaned and rolled his head toward her. "S’okay, Andy. I know you're trying to hel' me. I might jus' close my eyes for a bit."

  "You close your eyes, Parker. We're probably going to have to get you up in a few minutes, but we'll get you fixed up enough to travel, okay?"

  He gave a single nod. "It went clear through. If you can get the bleeding stopped I would be… very appreciative."

  She laughed weakly. "I'll do the best I can," she promised.

  He reached up a hand to brush against her cheek. "You're so beautiful," he whispered. "I missed you." Then his eyes closed and his hand fell back to his side.

  Andromeda fought not to cry. Somehow, she'd landed herself into his crazy situation and it was taking her a while to acclimate to everything going on. She was so far out of her depth it wasn't even funny. They should all be in protective custody right now. Mike had offered it when she'd called in earlier, but she'd declined. If they could just drop off the grid for a few days they would all be safe.

  One of the things he'd told her to do was to live off cash. As soon as they got Parker patched up she was going to go clean up in the truck stop and get as much cash out of her account her bank would allow. They shouldn't need a great deal for three days, but she would still get out as much as possible. Before they got to the cabin she would stop at a grocery store. Then, when they got to the cabin they could decide what else they needed. Surely, those people wouldn't be able to follow them three hundred miles away. She'd never talked about the cabin or Rosalind to anyone.

  Mac returned with two large first aid kits, half a dozen bottles of water and a bottle of peroxide. He also brought a package of maxipads. When he lifted the pink package out of the bag she lifted her brows at him. "They're great blood absorbers. I used to carry them in my own pack."

  Oh. Okay.

  They managed to get Parker out of the vehicle and on his feet. Mac held him up as Andromeda climbed into the back and laid the seats down, creating an expansive space in the back of the vehicle. She sighed at the sight of the ruined leather before she released the latch on the side, but there was no fixing it. Once everything was flat she helped Mac get Parker back into the vehicle, lying diagonally, then they climbed in beside him. Mac pulled the back hatch down over them for privacy but didn't let it latch.

  It was difficult getting Parker's shirt over his head, but they managed, and she had to stop and stare for a moment, stunned.

  Andromeda had no idea what had happened to Parker, but it really looked like he'd been tortured at some point in his career. Literally. Old white scars ran across most of his body. There was no rhyme or reason to them, just a conglomeration of scarred flesh. There were two spots on his upper chest that looked like gunshot wounds, but she didn't know enough about them to be sure. There were surgery scars on his left upper arm. She could see the small blemishes the stitches had left. The man still had the body of a SEAL, though, strong and lean. Tempting.

  A breath expanded his broad chest and she realized he still looked good to her. Was it compassion, desperation or loneliness that made her want to reach out and stroke his poor skin? When she'd been with him he'd had the body of a Greek god. The muscles were all still there, but he no longer had the beautiful aesthetics.

  Andromeda looked up at Mac. He'd been surveying all of the old wounds as well and his eyes had gone cold. But when she would have asked him what he thought he very deliberately shook his head.

  Parker had passed out as soon as they laid him down again and he didn't make a sound as they began cleaning him up. Mac took the lead in this, but he handed her a pair of gloves from the first aid kit. "I might need some help."

  And he did, when he needed to roll Parker up onto his side so that he could look at the bullet's exit wound. Andromeda had told him what Parker had said about the wound and that was exactly what they found. On the one hand she was really happy to know that the bullet was no longer in his body, but on the other hand the exit wound looked horrendous.

  "I've seen worse," Mac assured her. "This looks bad but it's actually pretty clean. If I had suture material I'd put a few stitches in but for now, we'll just clean and pack it. I really don’t think it hit anything vital.”

  He doused the area with water, patted him dry with a wad of paper towels and muttered something about infection. He layered three pads over the exit wound, then three more over the entrance wound, and wrapped Parker's entire lower torso in sticky athletic tape. It wasn't especially pretty but the bleeding had stopped completely. Covering him with the blanket, she and Mac left the back.

  After they each stripped off their gloves and put them in the grocery sack for disposal, Mac reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "You did good. Thank you for not freaking out."

  Andromeda gave a gasp of laughter and nodded. "No problem. I'm going to go clean up," she said.

  They gathered everything bloody and put it into the plastic grocery sack, then Andromeda headed for the front of the truck stop. Mac would wait here with their patient while she went inside to get cleaned up and grab some snacks and cash.

  Andromeda headed straight for the women's room to wash up and dispose of the bloody evidence. She washed her hands for a good ten minutes, until the icy temperature threatened to numb her hands completely. She stared into the glass over the sink, wondering how her life had gotten so out of control. Two days ago she'd been prepping for one of the biggest cases of her life. Now she was on the run for her life, literally. And that of her prime witness.

  She needed to get her ass moving. Finishing up in the bathroom she walked out into the store, and to the ATM machine. Her bank allowed her to get out five hundred dollars. Not a great deal but it should be plenty for the few days they'd be gone. When she got back into the car she'd hide her card and rely only on cash.

  She grabbed two bottles of water as well as two energy drinks. In the snack aisle she grabbed two bags of beef jerky as well as a couple of different bags of trail mix. From a rack with dried fruit so she grabbed a container of pineapple and another of peaches. Probably loaded with sugar but it might be what Parker needed when he woke up. Returning to the cooler she grabbed two bottles of Diet Pepsi, his favorite. Or, it had been his favorite years ago.

  The chocolate at the cash register tempted her so she grabbed a few candy bars as well as two king sized bags of peanut M&Ms. Again, Parker's favorite from years ago. Not her own. Deliberately she grabbed a container of spearmint gum, and a Payday. That was more her speed.

  She walked out of the truck stop with two bags of crap. When she got to the car she automatically looked into the back. Parker was laying as they'd left him, unconscious. She took off her coat, folded it up and propped his head on it, then turned back around and strapped in. "Okay. Let's get this done."

  Chapter 6

  Mac sighed as he looked out the window. No matter how much you tried to keep to yourself and mind your own business something always came along to change that.

  When he'd seen the truck barreling along the streets that day all those months ago at the Columbus Art Fair, it was like some trained reflex had turned his record light on. After years of serving as a grunt in the Army, then later as a Green Beret, he'd had training upon training for exactly those types of incidents. Even years after he'd been discharged, that training had been so deeply ingrained that he p
robably couldn't have avoided everything that had happened.

  It had been his choice to step forward though. That was how he'd screwed himself. After so many years of being screwed for being the good guy, when would he learn?

  The police officer that had taken his statement had stared at him in shock as Mac had reeled off distances traveled and shots fired down to the second. He’d been turned over to the detective in charge very quickly after that. It probably wasn't usual for an eye witness to walk a crime scene and tell the detective where to place the evidence markers, but he had. And later, when everything had been measured and marked, every single one of Mac's details had been proven or verified.

  As a witness he was solid gold, he knew that. And so did Andromeda. So all of this that they were going through would be worth it in the end if it would get this group of terrorists out of Columbus before more people were hurt.

  The job didn’t end just because he no longer wore the uniform.

  He glanced into the back. The big SEAL hadn't moved, which was probably a good thing. They had very little holding him together at the moment. If he struggled he would rip everything open again and get it bleeding.

  "Where are we going?" he asked eventually.

  Andromeda looked at him for a moment before turning back to the interstate in front of her. "A friend of mine has a cabin down here and I've been there several times. It's off the grid and incredibly quiet."

  He turned to look out at the running gray of the highway. "Okay."

  She laughed a little. "No argument?"

  He shook his head. "Nah. As long as we have some food and entertainment," he drew a book from one of his pockets, "we should be fine. Although you might think about trying to find Mr. Perfect back there some antibiotics and suture material."