Grave Secrets_A Manhunters Novel

by Skye Jordan

  With no immediate threat and Savannah giving him a well-deserved cold shoulder, Ian was trapped in his own head. The scenery might have been breathtaking, but he couldn’t do more than glance at the occasional vacation home off the road while he fought to figure out how he was going to get back into Savannah’s good graces.

  Twenty minutes into the drive, she broke the silence with “Why did we switch cars?”

  Internally, he winced. While he’d been craving connection and the sound of her voice, he also dreaded the questions he’d have to answer in ways she wouldn’t understand or like.

  “So the lead car has a shooter,” he answered.

  “I shoot.” Her voice was flat and tired. “But not like you guys, I guess.”

  That made a smile tip his lips. “You shoot?”

  “Everyone in Montana shoots.”

  Silence filled the car again but lasted only five minutes this time.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “We have a temporary headquarters in Whitefish. We’ll regroup there.”

  Another long silence.

  In the Jeep, Jamison and Sam started singing If You’re Happy and You Know It.

  “Oh my God,” Everly groaned over the mic. “Kill me now. Roman, you owe me.”

  Ian took his earpiece out and offered it to Savannah. “This will put a smile on your face.”

  When she didn’t reject him, Ian positioned it in her ear and Savannah held it there with one hand. He watched as joy lifted her features and her mouth curved in a smile. She laughed and closed her eyes with a look of happiness he hadn’t seen in what seemed like far too long. In fact, it had been less than twenty-four hours ago, when they’d been lying in bed together.

  In the next instant, her smile fell. Fear tightened her features, and she cut a look at Ian.

  “What?” He took the earbud and replaced it in his ear.

  “—two vehicles a quarter of a mile ahead of us,” Sam was saying.

  “Cops?” he asked.

  “Weren’t you listening?” Sam shot back.

  “Plan?” he asked.

  “Take a left at the next plowed road,” Sam said, “then your first right onto forest service land. We’ll cut across the pass and hook up with Highway Thirty-two just south of Kalispell.”

  “Roger that.” Ian picked up speed to stay on the tail of the other vehicles.

  “We’re driving too fast,” Savannah said. “It isn’t safe.”

  “It’s less safe to let the cops catch up,” he told her.

  They turned onto the forest service road, and the four-wheel drives lumbered up the rough terrain. Private homes disappeared, replaced by scattered government admin outposts, campgrounds, and tourist information booths. All closed until summer returned.

  Savannah pressed her hand to the dash to steady herself. She stared out at the mountains looming on either side of them as they approached a narrow pass. “This area is a bad avalanche zone. With the heavy snow we’ve had this last week—”

  “Sam,” Ian said into the mic. “Can you pull up avalanche risk information?”

  “On it.”

  The trio of vehicles rumbled over a particularly rough stretch of road.

  “Oh my God,” Savannah said, her voice humming with fear and tension. “We could get stuck. Are you sure this is plowed all the way through? I’ve never been this way in the winter.”

  “It’s plowed,” he assured her, “just not as often as the main roads. We’ll be fine. Try not to worry. Sam will keep us on the right roads.”

  “Bumpy, right?” Sam said to Jamison as he climbed into the back seat. “Think of it as a roller coaster.” He put his arm around the kid and snugged him against his body. “There. Better?”

  “What’s he doing?” Savannah said. “What’s wrong?”

  “He’s just making the ride more comfortable for Jamison.”

  “Ian…” The tension in Savannah’s voice drew his gaze from the road. She was looking out the back window. “There’s someone behind us.”

  His gaze cut to the rearview, where a white SUV thundered up behind them. “What the… Sam. Unidentified behind us. Did you miss a cop?”

  “Dude,” he said, his tone offended. “I’ll let that pass, what with you being all hung up on a chick and all. There’s no cop behind you.”

  “Then who the fuck is crawling up my ass?” A distinct plunk-plunk sounded against the tailgate.

  Savannah chirped a squeal.

  A surge of adrenaline heated Ian’s veins. “They’re shooting. Long gun. Probably a hunting rifle.”

  “Must be from Lyle’s band of dimwits,” Sam said. “And they must have radios, because two cops just changed directions, heading toward us.”

  Taking hold of the steering wheel with a steel grip, Ian reached behind the seat and grappled in the equipment there. He dragged out the first Kevlar vest he felt and tossed it into Savannah’s lap. She wouldn’t need it inside the car, but at these speeds, there was no telling what could happen.

  “Put it on,” he told her. “Now.”

  She dropped the vest over her head without argument and tightened the Velcro side straps.

  “We’ve got a short straightaway up ahead,” Sam said, “a small meadow area between mountains.”

  Ian split his attention between the road ahead and the car behind. When the other SUV bounced, veering right, he caught sight of another truck behind him. “There are two assholes on our bumper. Repeat, two vehicles.”

  “Copy,” Roman came back. “When we reach the straightaway, Ian and I will spin and open fire. Shaw and Slaughter, you keep going.”

  That wouldn’t go over well with Savannah, but it was the right thing to do. “Copy.”

  Plunk-plunk, pink-pink. Another couple of double taps hit the SUV.

  “Did that hit the back window?” Savannah asked, confused and shocked.

  “You do know a thing or two about shooting.”

  “Why didn’t it shatter?”

  “Bulletproof,” he said, prepping for the firefight that would erupt in about sixty seconds.

  “It’s why we traded vehicles?” she wanted to know. “Is Jamison’s bulletproof too?”

  “As soon as we hit the straightaway, we’re going to turn on the guys behind us and open fire. Everly and Sam will keep going. Jamison will be—”

  “No,” she said, instantly terrified. “I don’t want to split up. I want to stay with him.”

  “We’ll catch up to him. I swear on my life, that boy is as safe as he can be right now.” The opening to the meadow loomed. “Stay down, and hold on.”

  She obediently gripped the handle and sank lower in the seat. “I’m so killing you if we make it out of this alive.”

  Roman’s car cleared the mountain pass, and Ian started the countdown. “Three.”

  Everly’s car cleared the pass. “Two.”

  His car cleared the pass. He lowered his window halfway. The icy wind burned his lungs.

  “One.”

  Ian turned the wheel and hit the brake. While Roman’s vehicle spun to clear the road for Everly to pass, Ian made an abrupt about-face in the middle of the road. His weapon was already pointed out the window when he came to a stop. Roman skidded up behind Ian at an angle, using his vehicle as a shield.

  The drivers of the two pursuing SUVs scrambled to avoid a collision. Both came to a stop just inside the mouth of the canyon.

  Ian’s mind quieted with intense focus.

  More bullets pinged off the SUV. Savannah muffled a squeal.

  Ian rested the barrel of the Glock on the edge of his window. The passengers of the SUVs swung their doors wide, using the metal as shields.

  A distant rumble saved the shooter of the white SUV from a double tap to the brain. Ian eased back on the trigger, searching for the source of the thunder.

  “Hear that?” he asked Roman.

  “Affirmative.”

  “Cops twenty miles behind you,” Sam cautioned. “More ch
anging direction and headed toward you. Eight miles ahead.”

  The rumble grew louder. Ian looked up and found the very top of the mountain shattering at the seams.

  “Avalanche!” Savannah yelled. “Ian!”

  “Roman, bail,” he yelled into the mic. “Bail.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Ian and Roman peeled out of the frozen field. With Roman leading the way, Ian floored the gas. The tires spun, then grabbed, and the SUV shot forward.

  Savannah turned in her seat, and Ian watched in the rearview as snow pummeled the mountainside, crashed across the road, and swallowed their assailants.

  The sight stole Ian’s breath.

  “Ho-ly shit,” he muttered, watching in awe as the wrath of nature buried them under more and more snow. “Didn’t see that comin’.”

  “Oh my God.” Savannah’s murmur was laced with equal parts shock and terror.

  “Mother nature saved us a few bullets,” Roman said.

  “You’re going to need them,” Sam cut in. “Because the cops just passed our hideout on the only side road for miles, which means you’re trapped between that avalanche and the cops.”

  Jesus Christ. Ian was glad Savannah couldn’t hear this.

  His mind darted from the cops to another potential avalanche. They’d already passed from the meadow into another valley flanked by skyscraping mountains.

  “Roman?” Ian said. “How do you want to handle this?”

  “Handle what?” Savannah asked, still trying to catch her breath.

  “I don’t know that we have a lot of choices,” Roman said.

  He cut a look at Savannah. “The cops know better than to shoot at us under these conditions, right?”

  She shook her head with a simultaneous shrug. “Some do, but…”

  “Sam,” Ian said, evaluating options. “Where is the next meadow?”

  “Three-point-four miles. It flattens out on the right, near the base of the next campground. But you won’t reach it before the cops reach you. Right about…now.”

  A sheriff’s SUV barreled around a bend, headed straight for them.

  “Ready for some chicken?” Roman pulled to the right of the road, leaving room for Ian to move up next to him, effectively blocking the entire road.

  Savannah was going to have a coronary, but Ian moved into position.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice shrill.

  “You know how the flight attendants tell you to brace for impact?” He pushed on her back. “Curl up in a ball. Head between your knees. Arms covering your head.”

  “Ian—”

  “I know, baby. I know. Just do it.”

  He met Roman’s gaze over Savannah’s head. His boss gave Ian one approving nod, and they both focused on the cruisers headed toward them, one in front of the other, lights and sirens blazing.

  The sting of fear buzzed over Ian’s breastbone. He repositioned his grip on the steering wheel, settled deeper into his seat, and matched Roman’s speed.

  The next ten seconds passed like minutes while Ian absorbed every detail in sharp relief. And in that second when someone had to decide to bail on this challenge or risk the very real possibility of death, Ian prayed they came out of this alive so he could tell Savannah he loved her.

  Ian pushed out one quick breath a millisecond before the first cop veered right. In the next second, the other cop veered left.

  He cut a look at Roman at the same time Roman met his gaze. They were both grinning like idiots. Roman saluted Ian and accelerated. Ian fell in behind him, and he ran his hand over Savannah’s hair. “We’re good. You can sit up.”

  But when he looked in the rearview, he found the cops pulling out of the snowdrifts and turning to follow.

  Savannah sat up and turned to look out the back.

  “Sam,” Ian prodded.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m trying to learn to breathe again here. Okay, let’s see. You’ve got six more coming at you from the south. No telling how many civilian members of the posse are with them. There are more side roads coming up. Okay, take the third one on the right. It turns into a public road about two miles down and eventually winds you down into a town called Bleak. Jesus, Hazard and Bleak? What’s next? Grim? Harsh? Clusterfuck?”

  Punk, punk-punk-punk. Shots dented the body of the SUV.

  “Seriously?” Ian said, yelling at the rearview. “Didn’t you learn anything from those other idiots?”

  Punk-punk, pink-pink-pink-pink.

  Ian swore. Savannah pulled her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, her terrified blue gaze tilted toward the sky. Watching the snow on the mountains, he knew. If he didn’t have to concentrate so hard on his driving, he’d be doing the same thing.

  “Hang in there, baby,” he told her. “I’ll get your feet on solid ground soon.”

  “Sam,” Roman said. “When we pass you, drop in behind them. And when we reach a clearing, pin them in. We’re going to end this.”

  “Roger and ready,” Sam sent back.

  Savannah turned her gaze on Ian. “Is Jamison okay?”

  “How’s our recruit doing?” Ian asked.

  “I think he’s addicted. Having a grand old time. Big eyes, taking it all in. He especially likes it when the car spins around.”

  Ian smiled for Savannah. “I think you’ve got a daredevil on your hands.”

  She closed her eyes on a groan.

  Punk-punk-punk, pink-pink, punk, punk, punk.

  “Jesus,” Ian bit out. He knew the car was solid, but those mountains…

  Punk-punk-punk. Zing. Pink-pink. Punk, punk, punk.

  The deputies had taken a play from the Manhunters’ playbook and now drove side-by-side, shooting at the SUV from both directions.

  “Ian.” Savannah’s thin, terrified voice pulled his gaze from the men behind him and followed her finger, pointed at the mountains on their left. “The snow’s shifting. If they don’t stop shooting—”

  She pulled in a sharp breath.

  Ian saw it. “Avalanche,” he confirmed to the team. “Left side.”

  “Shit,” Roman bit out.

  “You either have to run it,” Sam said, “or deal with the two behind you and the reinforcements coming in, which will outnumber all of us.”

  A millisecond passed while Ian watched the mountain crumble and played out those very real scenarios in his head.

  He and Roman seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same time and echoed each other with their solution: “Run it.”

  Roman sped up, and Ian followed, foot to the floor, hands working to find the finesse required to control a vehicle on snow at this speed. He felt like they were racing a train, hoping to get ahead of it just enough to cross the tracks without being flattened.

  Savannah mewled and pressed her forehead to her knees, then yelled, “Everly, you promised.”

  “She keeps her promises, baby,” Ian told her. “But you’re not going to need it.”

  As if to mock him, bowling-ball-size chunks of ice smashed the windshield. The sheer force of it pushed the car sideways. Coupled with their speed, the car spun out.

  The steering wheel was wrenched from his hands. They went up on two wheels. Ian grabbed for the wheel and wrestled it back under control. The SUV dropped back to all four wheels, and Ian floored the gas.

  “Punch it, Heller,” Roman yelled. “Punch it.”

  In the rearview, a wave of snow swept through the valley. The cops behind Ian vanished, swallowed by the white monster.

  “Come on, come on, come on—”

  The edge of the avalanche clipped the rear bumper, spinning the car like a top. Savannah screamed. Then the momentum of the snow picked them up like a shell in the surf and toppled them over and over and over.

  16

  Savannah blinked her eyes open but immediately focused inside, on the pain thrumming through her body. Her head throbbed. Her back ached. Her left shoulder burned. In fact, just about every inch of her body hu
rt.

  A nagging sense of fear forced her to focus, but her equilibrium was off. She felt like she was sitting at an angle. And her eyes weren’t working right. All she saw was white. White filling every window of the car. Yet the interior seemed dim.

  Reality flooded in, swamping her brain with white-hot terror. Hank. Cops. Gunshots. Avalanche.

  She turned her head, searching for Ian. But she moved too quickly, and pain shot down her neck, making her wince. “Shit.”

  The sound of her own voice pried her mind open, and everything spilled in at once. Her heart rate jumped, and adrenaline gushed through her veins. She forced her eyes to open and her brain to turn.

  Her surroundings were intensely silent. She had no idea how long they’d been unconscious. Had no idea how far the avalanche had taken them. Had absolutely no idea how to get out of this.

  She found Ian still in the driver’s seat. The blood registered first. Bright red, matting his hair, painting his face. A sob bubbled out of her. “Ian. Ian, wake up.”

  The car had come to rest at an angle with Ian’s side of the car up. Or maybe Savannah’s side was up. She was so disoriented, she didn’t know. The roof over Ian’s side of the car jutted into the space. In the back, the roof had been smashed in, crowding the interior. Several windows had shattered but remained intact, the bulletproof glass spiderwebbed.

  Fear clawed at her gut. She reached for Ian, but her seat belt had cinched down on her like a vise. “Ian.”

  His head lolled toward her. Blood dripped onto the console from his forehead. That was good, right? He couldn’t bleed if he wasn’t alive, right?

  Her mind darted to Jamison, and fear burned her heart. “He was miles away from the avalanche,” she told herself. “He was hidden away on a back road with Everly and Sam. He’s okay.”

  Those realizations helped her drag her panic back into line with the present. The thought of getting back to her boy gave her the motivation to fight.

  She pushed against the seat belt until her fingers touched his forehead and found his skin still warm. She tapped his head. “Ian. Ian.”

  When he didn’t stir, the barriers on her fear broke, and panic rushed in. Her quick breaths billowed in the car. “You can’t die. You can’t.”