***

For the first few miles, Brooke had no idea where to go. She drove blindly and without purpose. Eric kept his hand clutched over the hole from his hastily removed IV, and Emily wouldn’t stop crying. All Brooke could think about was moving forward, getting out, staying alive.

Before she realized it, she was coming up to a major highway. She hit the brakes, thinking about the condition of her car, and the cruiser skidded to a stop.

“Everyone all right?” Brooke asked.

Emily still had her ears covered from the gunshots and was curled up next to John, who stroked her hair. Brooke reached back and held onto her daughter’s leg. “It’s going to be all right, Em.”

“I can’t believe he put a bug on us,” Eric said.

“I know,” Brooke replied. “How’s the shoulder?”

“It’s better. Still sore. Although I’m going to need another round of antibiotics soon to keep fighting off the infection.”

“Right.”

There. Something to focus on. Hospitals were still out of the question, so their next stop would have to be North Carolina. They were still about a full day’s drive away, and that was if she kept to the main roads, which she knew she couldn’t.

“You think he’ll be all right?” Brooke asked, thinking of Dave.

“Yeah. He’s one tough bastard. I doubt he’ll let some mercenary get the best of him.”

Brooke thought about phoning in an anonymous tip to the police, but the police meant questions for both Dave and the man following them, and the authorities wouldn’t stop until they had answers, one way or the other.

She pulled the cruiser deeper into a wooded area for cover and decided to take a quick inventory. She knew they were running low on water. She had been hoping they could stock up with some of Dave’s supplies, but that opportunity had come and gone.

They were down to their last gallon of water. It was only enough to last the four of them the next couple of hours. They still had a few MREs left, enough for one more day, but they didn’t have any spare fuel. The tankful they’d managed to get in Dallas was almost gone.

Water and food would be easy enough to get with the cash they had on hand, but pulling into the gas station with the condition the cruiser was in was bound to raise suspicions. Brooke needed to find a remote location that wouldn’t think twice about allowing a bullet-riddled car the chance to fuel up with no questions asked.

Brooke sprawled the map out on her car seat and tried looking for any small towns in the area where she could fuel up. She could squeeze another forty miles out of what she had, but after that, they’d be hoofing it.

There were a few back roads north of Mobile if she kept along the outskirts. It was within her range and probably her best bet to remain unseen by local authorities. She did another quick scan of the cruiser’s undercarriage in case the bounty hunter had managed to sneak two tracking beacons on but came up empty. She couldn’t afford another mistake.