tinted windshield, their arms cradling scary-looking guns as they leaned casually over the top of the cab. As if on cue, the men raised their weapons.
“Well that throws a wrench in our plans.” Lars slammed on the brakes and then shifted into reverse, sending Claire flying forward against the windshield. “Sorry about that, better buckle up and hold on tight, sweetie.”
She lifted one hand to her throbbing forehead as she fastened the seat belt with the other. A knot was already forming, and her fingers came away slick with blood. What the hell did he think he was doing, trying to outrun these guys? She could just make out the look of astonishment on their faces, and one of the men pointed his rifle to the sky and fired off a quick burst.
“Stop!” she shouted. “You want to get us both killed?”
No response. He spun the wheel as they flew back into the intersection, the truck knocking a corner out from the closest tent as it pulled sharply back onto the original rutted track. Claire was shocked to see the fearful dark eyes of a child staring out at her as the tent collapsed, and then they were moving forward again, engine roaring. She caught a glimpse of the black truck speeding toward them, and heard another burst of gunfire at the same moment that one of the rear windows shattered in an explosion of broken glass.
“Keep your head down.”
The doctor’s voice had not changed, which only made her angrier. As if he went running for his life from armed militias on a regular basis. They were picking up speed now, bouncing dangerously between the unbroken rows of tents on either side.
“We don’t lose anything by trying to evade them now,” he said. “If they had wanted to kill us, they could have done that right from the start.”
“Fine,” she yelled from the floor. “But you really don’t think we should just see what they’re after?”
“Want an honest opinion?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ve seen enough LRA victims to know we’d be better off dead.”
Claire wanted to cry. Why had she come along on this little adventure, anyway? To get the inside scoop on the gorillas. Ah, yes. Those men in the truck looked a little bit like gorillas—did that count? She regretted the decision to come to Africa in the first place. Why couldn’t she have been content with her sheltered London existence, without a care or responsibility in the world? What was she trying to prove?
She felt the deep thumping bass from the truck behind them before she could hear it. Steadily growing louder, vying for dominance over the growling of the Land Cruiser’s overworked engine. The rebels were getting closer.
“They found the chase scene soundtrack, at least.” With her face to her knees and hands locked over her head, Claire could barely hear Lars’ voice over the uproar. “A nice touch, really.”
A sharp pop interrupted the rhythm, and the back right corner of the vehicle dropped. One tire down.
“That might be it for us,” Lars said quietly, as the SUV continued tearing down the track.
Another burst of gunfire, a loud hiss, and the rear end evened out.
“Yep, that’s the game.”
Claire heard the doctor inhale deeply and felt the damaged vehicle drag on its back rims to a rapid stop. She turned her head just in time to see him turn the key in the ignition, and the engine went silent. Now the full blast of the pursuing truck’s music hit them, a profanity-laced ode to the American gangster life. It continued for what seemed like several minutes before cutting out mid-sentence.
Silence.
Lars leaned forward and reached a hand under his seat. A single shot rang out as the glass of his side-view mirror shattered. He slowly raised both hands back up to his head, a stethoscope clenched in one fist.
“Time to try out that doctor card?” Claire whispered.
“Exactly. Be smart here, and follow my example.”
Claire released what was left in her bladder. Might as well make herself as
“Well that throws a wrench in our plans.” Lars slammed on the brakes and then shifted into reverse, sending Claire flying forward against the windshield. “Sorry about that, better buckle up and hold on tight, sweetie.”
She lifted one hand to her throbbing forehead as she fastened the seat belt with the other. A knot was already forming, and her fingers came away slick with blood. What the hell did he think he was doing, trying to outrun these guys? She could just make out the look of astonishment on their faces, and one of the men pointed his rifle to the sky and fired off a quick burst.
“Stop!” she shouted. “You want to get us both killed?”
No response. He spun the wheel as they flew back into the intersection, the truck knocking a corner out from the closest tent as it pulled sharply back onto the original rutted track. Claire was shocked to see the fearful dark eyes of a child staring out at her as the tent collapsed, and then they were moving forward again, engine roaring. She caught a glimpse of the black truck speeding toward them, and heard another burst of gunfire at the same moment that one of the rear windows shattered in an explosion of broken glass.
“Keep your head down.”
The doctor’s voice had not changed, which only made her angrier. As if he went running for his life from armed militias on a regular basis. They were picking up speed now, bouncing dangerously between the unbroken rows of tents on either side.
“We don’t lose anything by trying to evade them now,” he said. “If they had wanted to kill us, they could have done that right from the start.”
“Fine,” she yelled from the floor. “But you really don’t think we should just see what they’re after?”
“Want an honest opinion?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ve seen enough LRA victims to know we’d be better off dead.”
Claire wanted to cry. Why had she come along on this little adventure, anyway? To get the inside scoop on the gorillas. Ah, yes. Those men in the truck looked a little bit like gorillas—did that count? She regretted the decision to come to Africa in the first place. Why couldn’t she have been content with her sheltered London existence, without a care or responsibility in the world? What was she trying to prove?
She felt the deep thumping bass from the truck behind them before she could hear it. Steadily growing louder, vying for dominance over the growling of the Land Cruiser’s overworked engine. The rebels were getting closer.
“They found the chase scene soundtrack, at least.” With her face to her knees and hands locked over her head, Claire could barely hear Lars’ voice over the uproar. “A nice touch, really.”
A sharp pop interrupted the rhythm, and the back right corner of the vehicle dropped. One tire down.
“That might be it for us,” Lars said quietly, as the SUV continued tearing down the track.
Another burst of gunfire, a loud hiss, and the rear end evened out.
“Yep, that’s the game.”
Claire heard the doctor inhale deeply and felt the damaged vehicle drag on its back rims to a rapid stop. She turned her head just in time to see him turn the key in the ignition, and the engine went silent. Now the full blast of the pursuing truck’s music hit them, a profanity-laced ode to the American gangster life. It continued for what seemed like several minutes before cutting out mid-sentence.
Silence.
Lars leaned forward and reached a hand under his seat. A single shot rang out as the glass of his side-view mirror shattered. He slowly raised both hands back up to his head, a stethoscope clenched in one fist.
“Time to try out that doctor card?” Claire whispered.
“Exactly. Be smart here, and follow my example.”
Claire released what was left in her bladder. Might as well make herself as
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