“Drop the pretense, Brody. I’m talking about her training. She needs you. You’re the only one who can help her and show her how to take care of herself. As much as it kills me to say it, she does need you more than me right now.”
Brody’s grip on the steering wheel loosened. The energy in the SUV subsided. It felt like someone had opened a window and let the fresh air in, making it easier for Rick to breathe.
“You must really care about her if you’re willing to admit that you can’t give her what she needs.”
Rick let his head fall forward. It had been a blow to his ego to realize that what Brody said was true. He couldn’t give Lydia what she needed. Where their future might lead, he hadn’t had a clue. “I do care about her. So regardless of how mad you are with me, don’t take it out on her. Be the better man and help her... If it means I have to back off for you to train her, then I will. Her safety means that much to me.”
“You’d really let her go or at least back off?” Brody glanced in his direction and snapped his fingers. “Just like that?”
Rick pondered the statement. Could he really just let her go? Was it even possible? He’d been so lost in his own thoughts that neither one of them had noticed the monster truck behind them until it was too late. He heard the crunch of the metal and he jerked forward. The seatbelt cut into his shoulder and prevented him from hitting the dash board. They’d been hit and sent into a tailspin on the deserted road. The constant turning and changing scenery made him unable to focus so he closed his eyes and grab for something… anything to hold. His breakfast from earlier rose from the pit of his stomach and threatened to escape as he struggled to hold it in. Another sudden impact against the steel frame sent the car rolling over and over toward the tree line, the sturdy frame bending and giving beneath the pressure. They were going to hit, and there wasn’t anything Rick could do to stop it.
“Hang on,” Brody yelled. He let go of the wheel and put his hands up to his head. The SUV slowed down considerably but not entirely. They still hit the tree, but at least they hadn’t been going sixty when they struck. The overturned SUV hit the base of the tree, shaking the thick trunk that held it securely in place. He could hear the wheels spinning in the air. Brody’s side of the SUV struck the tree, knocking him out cold. Rick’s leg was pinned beneath the crumbled dash. He was unable to move but thankful he was still conscious. Limbs fell down on top of the SUV from the impact. Leaves were floating on the wind. The smell of gas and exhausted were heavy in the air. He needed to get them out of this.
Rick heard the tires on the asphalt squeal to a halt, and two big burly men jumped from the truck with guns pointed toward the broken vehicle. Rick tried to reach for his gun in his leg strap. He couldn’t reach it. His only hope was that Brody regained consciousness. Blood trickled from Brody’s ear. His eyes were closed, his body limp. Rick leaned over and felt for a pulse. Thank god he was still alive. Rick put his hands on the crunched doorframe and tried to pull himself from the upside down SUV. He couldn’t see their faces, only their outlines as they approached. He pulled harder and grimaced at the pain in his leg.
“It’s no use. You aren’t going anywhere.” One of the large guys lifted a gun and pulled the trigger. Instead of a shot ringing out, he felt a sharp pain in his arm.
He glanced down at the tranquilizer dart sticking out. Rick pulled it free. He mumbled, “What the hell did you shoot me with?”
They ignored his question.
They snickered. “Trust me, that bitch will come looking for him.”
Rick’s last thought was of Lydia. Panic coursed through his veins before his vision faded to black.
****
Rick knew he was being held. He didn’t even need to open his eyes to know it. His training kicked in. He played possum until he could access his situation. Getting free to get back to Lydia and to warn the general was his only thought. If he could take a few of them out on his way out the door, all the better.
He rested his palm against the cool metal table he was laid on and remained still. He heard muffled voices in the distance, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was quiet wherever he was. He lifted his lids and glanced around the windowless room. The room was empty except for a cart pushed against the wall with numerous syringes lying on top of it. Rick lifted his head as much as he could and glanced down at his limbs. His vision blurred, but he struggled to see what had him contained. He was chained to a table. He didn’t stand much of a chance of escaping, at least not without Lydia’s or Brody’s gift. He’d never let his guard down enough to be in a situation like this before. He’d been thinking of Lydia, and both he and Brody had been preoccupied. Shit. Brody.
The door opened, and an older man walked though. “Nice to see they didn’t give you too much.”
Rick pulled at the chains holding him in place. “What the hell do you want, and who the hell are you?”
“Mr. Thompson, you are in no position to be demanding answers.”