eyes homed in on a glow ahead, lights inside a van with back doors open. The light dimmed with a couple of people blocking the opening. He charged ahead, his gaze locked in for some clue about what was going on, as the lighting shifted over the group. The glow flickered over long blonde hair, a female face…
Shit.
About fifty yards away, Amelia was draped over some man’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry. A woman beside them held a baby that looked too damn much like Joshua for his peace of mind. He didn’t know what the hell was going on but it couldn’t be good. The silent pantomime of the whole absurd scene sealed the deal.
Hugh drew his weapon. “Stop. Put the lady down now and pass over the child.”
The woman holding Joshua spun sharply, her face cast in shadows. She held the baby in front of her like a shield, damn it.
“Oliver.” The woman’s voice carried softly on the briny breeze. “Get the van started.”
The man—Oliver—threw Amelia into the van, diving in after her, and there wasn’t a thing Hugh could do about it with Joshua in the line of fire. He ground his teeth and assessed his options. For every step he took toward them across jigsawed asphalt, the woman backed away, closer to the grimy white van, until she hit the bumper. She ducked inside just as the vehicle’s engine roared to life.
Waiting time was over. Hugh bolted forward. The doors slammed shut. He ran full-out, eyes trained on the taillights glowing like red snake eyes in the night. He only had a split second to make his move, to—
Jump!
He hurtled through the air. Arms extended, he willed his straining body onward. A roar ripped from his throat with the effort. He slammed against the back of the van, grunted, grappled on top for a hold. His feet braced on the rear bumper. Shit… This looked easier in the movies.
The van peeled around a corner, damn near on two wheels. Hugh slipped sideways, almost off. His heart pumped like revving pistons. He slapped the side, found a firmer hold on the luggage rack.
His brain raced as fast as the tires. No way could he make it to the front. He didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of climbing along the top. And if they hadn’t already figured out he was holding on, they would soon. It wouldn’t take much to jar him loose—or ram him against a brick wall.
He needed to open the back and fling himself inside.
After that?
Well, he would wing it from there. Letting the van drive away wasn’t an option. Given the island’s current state of disorder, locating this vehicle later would be all but impossible. And he couldn’t let himself think about what would happen to Amelia and Joshua in the meantime, if they even lived.
Now, he just had to wait for the right time to make his move.
***
Amelia braced her feet against a crate in the van as the vehicle squealed around a corner. She clutched Joshua to her chest, struggling to keep her balance.
Thank God, their kidnappers were letting her hold him. Although that made it impossible for her to open a door and leap out onto the pavement, which may have been their intent. Not that she would have left without Joshua anyway.
She leaned against a spare tire, the road bumpy, her butt jostling painfully against the floor as the guy drove, the woman parked in the passenger seat. The smell of oil and tropical fruit hung in the air. She scanned the packed space, glass rattling, and found boxes labeled as water and juice.
So much had happened so fast. She’d barely had time to process the violent shift in her life. Why the hell had she been so proud and stubborn in walking away from Hugh out of some crazy fear he would walk away first? The man and woman had escorted her out of the school/hospital at knifepoint. As she’d walked down that hall and into the parking lot, she’d known that once she landed inside the van, her chances and Joshua’s would be reduced dramatically.
Swallowing back fear of the blade nicking her neck, she had
Shit.
About fifty yards away, Amelia was draped over some man’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry. A woman beside them held a baby that looked too damn much like Joshua for his peace of mind. He didn’t know what the hell was going on but it couldn’t be good. The silent pantomime of the whole absurd scene sealed the deal.
Hugh drew his weapon. “Stop. Put the lady down now and pass over the child.”
The woman holding Joshua spun sharply, her face cast in shadows. She held the baby in front of her like a shield, damn it.
“Oliver.” The woman’s voice carried softly on the briny breeze. “Get the van started.”
The man—Oliver—threw Amelia into the van, diving in after her, and there wasn’t a thing Hugh could do about it with Joshua in the line of fire. He ground his teeth and assessed his options. For every step he took toward them across jigsawed asphalt, the woman backed away, closer to the grimy white van, until she hit the bumper. She ducked inside just as the vehicle’s engine roared to life.
Waiting time was over. Hugh bolted forward. The doors slammed shut. He ran full-out, eyes trained on the taillights glowing like red snake eyes in the night. He only had a split second to make his move, to—
Jump!
He hurtled through the air. Arms extended, he willed his straining body onward. A roar ripped from his throat with the effort. He slammed against the back of the van, grunted, grappled on top for a hold. His feet braced on the rear bumper. Shit… This looked easier in the movies.
The van peeled around a corner, damn near on two wheels. Hugh slipped sideways, almost off. His heart pumped like revving pistons. He slapped the side, found a firmer hold on the luggage rack.
His brain raced as fast as the tires. No way could he make it to the front. He didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of climbing along the top. And if they hadn’t already figured out he was holding on, they would soon. It wouldn’t take much to jar him loose—or ram him against a brick wall.
He needed to open the back and fling himself inside.
After that?
Well, he would wing it from there. Letting the van drive away wasn’t an option. Given the island’s current state of disorder, locating this vehicle later would be all but impossible. And he couldn’t let himself think about what would happen to Amelia and Joshua in the meantime, if they even lived.
Now, he just had to wait for the right time to make his move.
***
Amelia braced her feet against a crate in the van as the vehicle squealed around a corner. She clutched Joshua to her chest, struggling to keep her balance.
Thank God, their kidnappers were letting her hold him. Although that made it impossible for her to open a door and leap out onto the pavement, which may have been their intent. Not that she would have left without Joshua anyway.
She leaned against a spare tire, the road bumpy, her butt jostling painfully against the floor as the guy drove, the woman parked in the passenger seat. The smell of oil and tropical fruit hung in the air. She scanned the packed space, glass rattling, and found boxes labeled as water and juice.
So much had happened so fast. She’d barely had time to process the violent shift in her life. Why the hell had she been so proud and stubborn in walking away from Hugh out of some crazy fear he would walk away first? The man and woman had escorted her out of the school/hospital at knifepoint. As she’d walked down that hall and into the parking lot, she’d known that once she landed inside the van, her chances and Joshua’s would be reduced dramatically.
Swallowing back fear of the blade nicking her neck, she had
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