“Just a little defensive driving. Fortunately, it was clear enough to do that, otherwise . . .”

“Yeah.” She grabbed her phone. “I’m calling 911.”

“Good, give them the description while I figure out where to go from here.” Gavin glanced in the rearview mirror while his heart pumped. His brain was already in combat mode, that zone where everything he did was geared for survival—and in protection of the woman sitting beside him.

“They’re coming back,” she said, breathless, her gaze on the mirror, phone in her right hand.

“I see them.”

“Give me a weapon. I know you have a gun in here somewhere.”

“Glove box, but it’s a peashooter compared to what these guys are using. Leave it and just stay down.”

An eighteen-wheeler barreled toward them in the other lane. Gavin passed an exit and a car pulled onto the road behind him, causing the sedan to fall back. “This could work out nicely,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking.” And praying. He heard her talking to the dispatcher.

“The tunnels are just ahead,” she said, breaking off her conversation midsentence. “If they catch up and decide to start shooting in there, it won’t be pretty.”

“Yeah. And now I’ve got to worry about the person behind me.”

Gavin sped closer to the mouth of the tunnel while the sedan fell behind, trapped by the slower-moving Honda between them and the eighteen-wheeler at his side. Gavin pressed the gas pedal harder.

Sarah glanced at him. “She said they’re on the way, but three minutes out.”

“Yeah, we don’t have that long.”

He knew this highway like the back of his hand. If he could get through the tunnel, he could disappear. Maybe. A quick glance behind him showed no sign of the sedan that was still blocked by the truck and the other vehicle. “Keep watching for them,” Gavin said. “Let me know as soon as you see them behind us.”

He pressed the gas a fraction harder and within seconds was finally in the tunnel. The fluorescent lights zipped by over his head.

“I don’t see them,” she said. She spoke the words into the phone as well.

“Good, just need a couple more seconds.” He continued around the curve, slowing. “Be ready, I’m going to slam on the brakes.”

“Okay.”

“No one’s behind me, right?”

“Right—at least not close—and no sign of the shooter.”

He shot out of the tunnel and hit the brakes while directing his truck onto the shoulder.

Before he came to a full stop, he threw the transmission into reverse. The tires spun as Gavin backed through the gap in the dismantled guardrail, guiding the bed of the truck onto the dirt road that led down the side of the mountain. To anyone exiting the tunnel, she and Gavin would be invisible. Hopefully. As long as those behind them weren’t looking in their rearview or side mirrors.