behind them and setting birds screeching into the air.
“Yeah, this is a lot better,” Aubrey huffed out, cold and wet to her waist already. “Now I know how the ducks in the shooting arcades feel.”
“Get your ass in gear or you’ll get to know how the dead ones feel.”
Aubrey gave him a dirty look. He didn’t see it, but there wasn’t enough oxygen getting to her brain to come up with a snappy retort, let alone voice it with her teeth chattering. Interestingly enough, it was her lack of response that got his attention.
He peeked over her shoulder, got a good look at her face and said, “We have to get out of this.”
Amen to that, Aubrey thought, looking at the riverbank and coming to a dismal conclusion.
“There’s too much undergrowth for us to climb out without exposing ourselves,” Jack said. He took his hand off the small of her back and wrapped it around her wrist, pulling her along behind him while he searched the opposite bank for a quick exit. Not finding one. “We’ll have to keep going and hope the water doesn’t get any deep—”
He lurched forward suddenly, his hand tightening around her wrist before the water closed over his head. If he’d expected her to serve as some sort of lifeline, he was sadly mistaken. Instead of Jack popping back up, Aubrey was yanked off her feet and swept into the current. His weight and her wet clothing took her under water before she could close her mouth and eyes.
For once she was thankful for Jack’s manhandling ways, since all the breath whooshed out of her and she started to sink like a stone before he jerked her back up. She hit the surface, wheezing and shaking uncontrollably, thirty-four-degree water from mountain snow melt sucking all the energy from her. Jack was bobbing a foot or so away. He turned and met her eyes just as she realized what that sound was up ahead. And why the current had suddenly picked up speed.
“Hey, knock it off, Uncle Danny.”
Uncle Danny, aka Daniel Caparelli, aka Danny Caps, and currently up to his receding hairline in trouble, gave his nephew another shove, this one harder. “Drag your lazy ass off the bed and get dressed. We need to get moving.”
“Ow, damn it, that really hurt.” Carlo Caparelli, aka the dumb-ass that had gotten them into trouble, stated the obvious. He rolled cautiously off the narrow motel bed, groaning and coming up short, one leg bent at the knee like a lame horse, the other taking all his weight. “In case you forgot, I was shot last night.”
“In case you forgot, we’re gonna be dead if we don’t get that beanpole of a librarian. Besides, it was just rock salt, candy ass.”
“That don’t make it hurt any less.”
Danny rolled his eyes but he held his tongue. The kid was up and putting on his clothes. He was taking his sweet time about it, limping and groaning like he was at death’s door, but he was doing it.
“How’re we gonna get her now that she’s got that guy with her? He seems to know what he’s doing.”
“Yeah,” Danny said, thinking about the setup he’d found, matches, emery boards. If they hadn’t gone into the house before it had a chance to fill up with gas, they’d be dead. Just the thought of how close they’d come made every orifice on his body slam shut. “It won’t matter. Sooner or later he’ll let his guard down, or make a mistake, or just get tired.”
Danny knew tired, sick and tired as a matter of fact. The mob wasn’t what it used to be, what with the spics and Russkis taking over. They didn’t know nothin’, running around killing people right and left, hiring dumbshit kids like Carlo, kids with nothing between their ears but mouth. Which left the veterans like him to clean up the mess. And veterans, in this business, were few and far between.
“Okay, I’m up already, where are we going?”
Danny turned around and looked at the kid, no answer coming to mind.
Carlo collapsed back onto the bed, rolling immediately to his side
“Yeah, this is a lot better,” Aubrey huffed out, cold and wet to her waist already. “Now I know how the ducks in the shooting arcades feel.”
“Get your ass in gear or you’ll get to know how the dead ones feel.”
Aubrey gave him a dirty look. He didn’t see it, but there wasn’t enough oxygen getting to her brain to come up with a snappy retort, let alone voice it with her teeth chattering. Interestingly enough, it was her lack of response that got his attention.
He peeked over her shoulder, got a good look at her face and said, “We have to get out of this.”
Amen to that, Aubrey thought, looking at the riverbank and coming to a dismal conclusion.
“There’s too much undergrowth for us to climb out without exposing ourselves,” Jack said. He took his hand off the small of her back and wrapped it around her wrist, pulling her along behind him while he searched the opposite bank for a quick exit. Not finding one. “We’ll have to keep going and hope the water doesn’t get any deep—”
He lurched forward suddenly, his hand tightening around her wrist before the water closed over his head. If he’d expected her to serve as some sort of lifeline, he was sadly mistaken. Instead of Jack popping back up, Aubrey was yanked off her feet and swept into the current. His weight and her wet clothing took her under water before she could close her mouth and eyes.
For once she was thankful for Jack’s manhandling ways, since all the breath whooshed out of her and she started to sink like a stone before he jerked her back up. She hit the surface, wheezing and shaking uncontrollably, thirty-four-degree water from mountain snow melt sucking all the energy from her. Jack was bobbing a foot or so away. He turned and met her eyes just as she realized what that sound was up ahead. And why the current had suddenly picked up speed.
“Hey, knock it off, Uncle Danny.”
Uncle Danny, aka Daniel Caparelli, aka Danny Caps, and currently up to his receding hairline in trouble, gave his nephew another shove, this one harder. “Drag your lazy ass off the bed and get dressed. We need to get moving.”
“Ow, damn it, that really hurt.” Carlo Caparelli, aka the dumb-ass that had gotten them into trouble, stated the obvious. He rolled cautiously off the narrow motel bed, groaning and coming up short, one leg bent at the knee like a lame horse, the other taking all his weight. “In case you forgot, I was shot last night.”
“In case you forgot, we’re gonna be dead if we don’t get that beanpole of a librarian. Besides, it was just rock salt, candy ass.”
“That don’t make it hurt any less.”
Danny rolled his eyes but he held his tongue. The kid was up and putting on his clothes. He was taking his sweet time about it, limping and groaning like he was at death’s door, but he was doing it.
“How’re we gonna get her now that she’s got that guy with her? He seems to know what he’s doing.”
“Yeah,” Danny said, thinking about the setup he’d found, matches, emery boards. If they hadn’t gone into the house before it had a chance to fill up with gas, they’d be dead. Just the thought of how close they’d come made every orifice on his body slam shut. “It won’t matter. Sooner or later he’ll let his guard down, or make a mistake, or just get tired.”
Danny knew tired, sick and tired as a matter of fact. The mob wasn’t what it used to be, what with the spics and Russkis taking over. They didn’t know nothin’, running around killing people right and left, hiring dumbshit kids like Carlo, kids with nothing between their ears but mouth. Which left the veterans like him to clean up the mess. And veterans, in this business, were few and far between.
“Okay, I’m up already, where are we going?”
Danny turned around and looked at the kid, no answer coming to mind.
Carlo collapsed back onto the bed, rolling immediately to his side
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