The Hungry (Book 2): The Wrath of God (24 page)

Terrill Lee closed the gap. He stood next to Miller. "What are we going to do with this asshole, Penny?"

"We stick to the plan. He comes with us." Miller turned to face Gifford. "And if you want to live much longer, General, you'll tell us just what the hell this has all actually been about. For example, who you are working for."

Gifford chuckled, though his eyes had gone bleak. "You don't understand, do you? I can take you to safety. I can cure you, Sheriff. But if you do this your own way, I promise you there's nowhere you can go that we won't be able to find you."

"Back the hell up. Who's
we?
"

Gifford stared at Rat. "Ask her," he said. "She knows."

That was not the response Miller was expecting. She turned to face Rat. Said, "What's he talking about?"

Gifford didn't hesitate. As soon as Miller took her attention off of him, he drew his sidearm and shot her in the chest. Terrill Lee screamed. Sheriff Penny Miller fell in slow motion, her red hair fanning out as more gun smoke rose up into the cool evening air. She landed hard.

Gifford dig a jig in the air as a hail of bullets tore through his body. Enraged, Rat continued to fire until the General's face and head were shredded like the remnants of a bad Italian meal. Meanwhile, Terrill Lee dropped the high-powered rifle he was carrying. He kneeled down at Miller's side. Sheppard, still holding the laptop, watched helplessly, brown eyes wide with concern. The two helicopter pilots stood stunned in the distance. One dropped his cigarette. They exchanged glances.

"Penny, can you hear me?" Terrill Lee unzipped her jacket. He felt her chest, searching for the wound.

Miller coughed. She took a deep breath but it hurt. She coughed again. She closed her eyes and thanked Charlie Robinson's ghost for the loan of his top notch ballistics vest.

"Shit, that hurt."

Rat stepped back with a wide grin. She stood next to Sheppard. "Your boobs all right, there, Penny?"

"I'll be fine." Miller coughed a third time and winced. She sat up slowly. Terrill Lee tried to pretend he hadn't been crying after all. Miller looked around. "Goddamn, that actually worked."

Rat turned to Lovell. "Go secure that helicopter. Tell the pilots to clean out their underwear and suck it up. They're working for us now."

Lovell trotted off with a wide grin on his face.

Terrill Lee, seeing that Miller was safe, sat back on his heels. He cleared his throat. "Let's not ever do that again."

Rat laughed and flipped her dark hair back. Miller looked up at her, smiling. Then there was a quick, sharp sound. Rat looked a bit puzzled. She suddenly coughed up blood and dropped to her knees right next to Miller, who quickly realized that was happening. The wounded Ripper had shot Rat in the back with a hidden pistol. Miller tugged Rat out of the way.

"Motherfucker!" Scratch brought the rifle up to his shoulder. He shot Ripper in the head from two yards back. The bullet passed right through Ripper's skull, leaving only a small round wound in the forehead. His skull evacuated onto the cement. Ripper flattened sideways. His left foot kicked twice and then he lay still.

Terrill Lee had moved from Miller to Rat's side. He felt her body all over, his eyes worried. He held up his hand. It was covered with dark blood. "Might be her liver."

"Rat!" cried Miller. "Say something, Rat."

Rat opened her eyes. She said, "Ouch."

"Hang in there, you hear me?"

Rat tried to smile. Her lips were streaked with bloody phlegm.

"Let's get her on the helicopter and get out of this shit hole," shouted Terrill Lee. He checked his watch. "Jesus, it's almost six o'clock."

Terrill Lee and Scratch lifted Rat carefully. They carried her to the waiting helicopter. Unsteadily, Miller stood up too. She and Sheppard lifted the bag of money and carried it between them toward the Super Stallion. They crossed the dead grass, helping each other along. Lovell lifted them one by one into the waiting aircraft. He strapped them all in, shouting at the two terrified chopper pilots. "Let's go, damn it! Go!"

The whine of the engines increased. The spotlights dimmed down. The world shook and trembled as the huge helicopter lifted gracefully off the ground. It rose quickly and flew east, toward Salt Lake City. Wendover floated down and away like a ghost town.

Miller sat on one of the long benches, headphones now covering her ears. Terrill Lee stood over Rat's prone body on the other side of the helicopter. Miller could hear him speaking softly to her to keep her awake and focused. Telling her she would live, that it was nothing, that she would be okay. Sheppard was right next to Rat with the helicopter's medkit, working feverishly to save her life. He and Terrill Lee got all medical. Their discussion was too technical to keep Miller's interest. Instead she now wondered what Gifford meant when he'd said that Rat knew what was going on. Had she been holding out on them? Probably. And if Rat died, then Miller would never know. Her chances of a cure could dwindle down into nothingness.

Miller looked at Lovell. The big man stood at the cockpit, covering the pilots with a machine gun. He never looked away. Not once.

Scratch got up from his seat. He sat next to Miller. He put his hand on hers and squeezed.

Miller was only a little surprised. She permitted his closeness, but didn't reciprocate.

Scratch spoke without conviction. "Rat's going to be fine, Penny."

Miller thought for a moment, then just said, "For all our sakes, she'd better be."