Nick looked again. “No, but it looks like he’s stopped. I think he dropped a wheel off the shoulder—he’s trying to get back up onto the road.”

“That should buy us a few minutes.”

“Let’s hope so—I think we’re going to need it.”

They followed the winding road up into the mountains for another fifteen minutes, constantly cutting across the inside lane to pick up speed while praying that no cars were approaching from the opposite direction. Nick kept watch out the passenger window, searching for any sign of headlights rounding the bend behind them. Then he noticed something; they seemed to be slowing down. Even though Alena had the accelerator pushed to the floor, the truck was gradually losing power.

“Can’t we go any faster?” he asked.

“It’s the altitude. Old truck, old carburetor—there’s not enough air.”

“This is no good—he’ll catch up to us for sure at this pace.”

“The back road into my place is just a few miles ahead.”

“Is there a gate?”

“Just like the one on the other side.”

“Is it locked?”

“Yes.”

“Ram it—we sure don’t have time to stop.”

A few seconds later, Nick saw the trees light up in the distance behind them. It was Riddick—and he was coming fast.

“He’s back.”

“There’s the gate—hang on!”

“I hate it when you say that.” Nick braced himself against the dashboard.

She cut the wheel hard and accelerated directly into the gate. The metal poles bent back like pipe cleaners and the chain-link fence stretched like a fishnet under the weight of a record haul—until it suddenly gave way and snapped, raking over the hood of the truck and curling away from the road. Alena sped up the road toward the trailer— but before the truck had even rounded the last bend they could see Riddick’s headlights lighting up the woods behind them.

“This is going to be close,” Nick said. “When we reach the clearing just stop the truck anywhere—we’ll grab Trygg from the back and make a run for the trees.”

“Got it.”

Seconds later the truck burst from the woods and sped into the clearing. Alena slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop midway between the trailer and the kennels—and when she did she saw the lifeless form of Acheron still lying near the trailer door.

Nick threw open his door and jumped out. “Let’s go! I’ll get the dog!”

Alena opened her own door and looked at the kennels, where thirty anxious dogs stared back at her, eagerly wagging their tails.

“I’ll get the others,” she said.

“What? Alena, don’t—there isn’t time!”

“I’m not leaving them,” she shouted, starting toward the kennels.