Nathan passed the empty gun to Harv and received a fully loaded weapon in return. The chill on his exposed skin felt like a million ice picks. He ignored the hideous sensation and took careful aim. Ernie had begun to swerve back and forth, which actually improved Nathan’s odds of blowing out a tire. Harv kept the Expedition on the centerline of the road. Nathan let loose with another full magazine. Got it. Rubber began to peel away from the punctured tire. A baseball-sized piece whizzed past his head and he pulled himself back into the interior. Shredded chunks of rubber thumped off the Expedition’s shattered windshield.

“Good shooting,” Harv said.

Ernie’s truck swerved right, then back to the left before he regained control. It skidded to a stop on the left shoulder. Ernie jumped out and took off into the dry wash. Harv braked hard and pulled in behind the truck.

“He’s wearing a sidearm, Harv. Looked like a nineteen-eleven.”

“I saw it.”

Nathan was in no shape for a foot chase. Although not life-threatening, his right-calf wound was bleeding at a damned ugly clip. “Get him, Harv, we could lose him in there. Take the thermal imager. I’ll be right behind you.”

Harv didn’t have time to strap on his holster, so he jammed four magazines into his front pockets. “His ass is mine.”

Nathan watched him disappear into the blackness. Be careful, old friend.

Grangeland pulled in behind the SUV and killed the engine. She rushed to the passenger door and saw Nathan donning a night-vision visor.

“No way,” she said. “Give that to me. You’re in no shape to go out there. Your color’s nearly gone and you’re shaking like a leaf.”

She was right. He wasn’t in good shape—in fact, he was in terrible shape. The blood loss combined with the shock and adrenaline wearing off had hammered him. He handed her the visor. “Harv’s got a ten-second head start. He’s got a thermal imager and night vision with him. We need Bridgestone alive, understood?”

“Yes,” she said. Three seconds later she vanished into the moonless void.

Nathan gathered as much strength as he could and shouted, “Grangeland’s coming, Harv, not me.” He didn’t expect an answer and didn’t get one.