52
"Haven!" Lana shouted. "Haven! Where are you?"
She shot back a glance to the man on the ground. He was groaning, curled up on the gravel walkway.
"Haven! I need to you at the car this instant. Run!" No answer.
The big man rolled over on his belly and pushed himself up, swaying, onto his hands and knees.
Lana jumped in the car, jabbed the key in the ignition. The engine started on the first crank. She threw the car in reverse, backed over her flower garden, and slammed it into first gear, tires spitting out black soil and roses as the Land Rover shot forward. She steered straight toward the man, who now scrabbled to his feet. He yanked a gun out of his pants pocket. Lana ducked her head low behind the steering wheel and kept coming.
The cell phone in her pocket rang. Not the best moment for one-handed driving. "Jimi! Cade!" she screamed at the unanswered phone. "Help!"
The man fired the pistol with a two-hand grip and three bullets smacked through the windshield just before the Land Rover rammed him. The impact knocked him up and onto the hood, and threw Lana forward against the windshield. For one weird instant, the two were pressed face to face on opposite sides of the glass. Blood from his nose smeared the pane. He struggled to raise his gun.
Lana stamped the gas pedal. The tires spun and the vehicle flew ahead. She stomped the brake, and the man sailed off the hood to land a dozen feet in front of the bumper. Then she hit the gas again to run him over, but he rolled out of the way at the last second. The tires caught one ankle and thumped over it twice. Even from inside the car, she could hear the crunch and snap of bones. Again, he bellowed like an enraged bull.
Lana yanked the gear shift into reverse, and ripped through a three-point turn that took out half her vegetable garden. She aimed the car toward the gun man. She was going to keep driving over him until there was nothing left but compost.
Then she saw Haven, charging up the hill from the direction of the pond, eyes bulging with fright. Lana braked and blared the horn. "No! Turn around! Run away!" Haven stopped in her tracks. Lana cranked down the window. "Run, baby, get out of here!"
The girl turned to flee. From a prone position on the ground, the man aimed his gun and fired.
Haven pitched forward in the grass and lay still.