The van was still blocking the road, but, as Hicks watched, the big man got into the driver’s seat and negotiated the space, bumping the wheels over the kerb and pointing the vehicle in the same direction as the fleeing minivan. The woman popped out of cover, loosed a wild volley in Chase’s direction—enough to pin him down for a moment—and then hauled herself into the van as it rolled by.

He looked up again. The Dodge and the Renault were racing away.

Milton was inside.

“Chase,” he said into the phone, “get in the car and pick me up!”

* * *

Ellie ran. She approached a crossroads and stumbled around to the left, following the main road north to where she could see a store with its lights still shining. If she could get there, get inside, maybe she would be able to call for help.

She heard the sound of an engine from behind her and turned to look: the white Renault van screeched around the corner and followed her up the road. Distracted, she caught her foot against the kerb and, with her hands still secured behind her back, she toppled over. She came down heavily on her shoulder, gasping from the sudden jarring spur of pain. She pushed herself further onto the sidewalk, her boots scraping against the asphalt.

The van raced by and then the red Dodge followed. She expected them to stop, for someone to get out and grab her, but they didn’t. Instead, they accelerated away along the road, passing the store and continuing to the north.

She heard a third vehicle approaching her from behind and turned to see a teal Nissan Altima.

The car braked heavily as it reached her.

There were two men inside.

The man in the back opened the door and got out.

“Stay away from me,” Ellie said.

“We’re on the same side.”

The man spoke in what Ellie thought was a British accent, like Milton.

“Come on,” he said. “They’re getting away.”

There was no reason for her to trust him, but, as she turned to look north, she saw that what he had said was true: the Renault and the Dodge were disappearing from sight. She wanted La Bruja, and, more than that, she wanted to help Milton.

The man reached down and hauled her up to her feet. She crossed the sidewalk to the car, ducking her head so that she could slide into the back. The man slid in next to her and closed the door. The driver buried the pedal and they raced north in pursuit.

91

Ellie sat with her hands pinned behind her and looked at the two men in the car. The driver was in his late thirties with a solid build. He had neatly clipped hair and was handsome. The man next to her was middle-aged with a hard-looking face.

“Who are you?” Ellie said.

“Hicks,” the passenger said.

“And you?”