as a bullet zipped through the air beside my ear. Sargent was coming toward me, sighting me down the center of his Colt.
“No one to catch this one for you,” Sargent said, gesturing at Jack’s sprawled, bleeding form with his free hand. “Too bad, so sad.” A tiny tremor of fear lanced through me, partially for my own safety, but mostly for Jack. I wasn’t sure what was going on with the vampire, but he definitely seemed down for the count.
A grin spread across Sargent’s mustached mouth as he started to depress the trigger, which was when a tie dye VW Bus struck him in the side at over fifty miles an hour. The impact sent him bouncing across the street like a ragdoll. The passenger door flew open to reveal Ramon leaning over from the driver’s seat.
“Come on,” he cried, glancing at me from around a pair of pink fuzzy dice before gesturing toward the back of the van with his thumb. “We don’t have all day.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I jumped off the back of the hummer while Maya paused long enough to soccer kick Bruce in the head as he tried to get up. He slumped bonelessly to the pavement, and for a moment, it looked like she was going to kick him again, but before she could capitalize on it, Sargent started to get up, which seemed all sorts of unfair. As much as I hated to admit it, if we didn’t run like hell, he’d put a whole mess of holes in us. Call me crazy, but Swiss cheese wasn’t a good look on my delicate body.
“Maya, time to go!” I cried, scooping up Jack’s battered, bleeding body. The vampire was much lighter than I expected, which made dragging him toward the VW surprisingly easy. As I flung open the blue tie-dyed side door and leapt inside, a bullet punched through the side-view mirror, spraying bits of debris across my body.
“Hurry up, Mac!” Ramon called as another bullet smacked into the driver’s side of the windshield, punching a hole through the glass and turning the rest into a mishmash of spiderwebbing cracks.
Ramon’s head snapped backward in a spray of blood, but before I could be horrified about our getaway driver being turned into a headless corpse, Ramon reached up, plucked the bullet from beneath his eyes and flung it like Orel freaking Hershiser. It passed straight through the bullet hole in the windshield and caught Sargent in the chest before he could fire again. The force of the bullet threw the Texan from his feet as he slid back across the gravel.
“Fucker,” Ramon growled, turning to look at me. Blood dripped down his face, but the wound was already closing over the metal plate embedded in his forehead so it sort of reminded me of Wolverine. “I really hate getting shot. Really screws up the reception.”
Maya leapt into the passenger seat next to Ramon as Sargent got to his feet and pointed the gun at her. Judging by the look on the Texan’s face, he wasn’t about to stop shooting so he could figure out why Ramon had warded off the first shot. No, instead, he’d pulled a second Colt free and was coming toward us looking all sorts of pissed off hillbilly.
I slammed the van’s side door shut and dropped down onto the forest green shag carpet covering the floor. As bullet shattered the windshield, Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival came blasting through the bus’s strangely state-of-the-art sound system.
The VW’s tires screeched as we took off, and I looked up in time to see Sargent leap out of the way of our oncoming hippie-mobile. I was pretty sure we didn’t have long before he came after us, and as I turned to glance out the back windows, I saw the hummer explode into a shrapnel-filled fireball.
“Whoa,” I said, spinning back around as Ramon caught my eyes in the rearview mirror. Then he tossed the spoon of a grenade to me. Had he thrown a grenade at the Hummer? Points for him.
“I’m counting this as two saves, Maya,” he said, a smirk playing across his malformed features. I’ll be honest, my stomach
“No one to catch this one for you,” Sargent said, gesturing at Jack’s sprawled, bleeding form with his free hand. “Too bad, so sad.” A tiny tremor of fear lanced through me, partially for my own safety, but mostly for Jack. I wasn’t sure what was going on with the vampire, but he definitely seemed down for the count.
A grin spread across Sargent’s mustached mouth as he started to depress the trigger, which was when a tie dye VW Bus struck him in the side at over fifty miles an hour. The impact sent him bouncing across the street like a ragdoll. The passenger door flew open to reveal Ramon leaning over from the driver’s seat.
“Come on,” he cried, glancing at me from around a pair of pink fuzzy dice before gesturing toward the back of the van with his thumb. “We don’t have all day.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I jumped off the back of the hummer while Maya paused long enough to soccer kick Bruce in the head as he tried to get up. He slumped bonelessly to the pavement, and for a moment, it looked like she was going to kick him again, but before she could capitalize on it, Sargent started to get up, which seemed all sorts of unfair. As much as I hated to admit it, if we didn’t run like hell, he’d put a whole mess of holes in us. Call me crazy, but Swiss cheese wasn’t a good look on my delicate body.
“Maya, time to go!” I cried, scooping up Jack’s battered, bleeding body. The vampire was much lighter than I expected, which made dragging him toward the VW surprisingly easy. As I flung open the blue tie-dyed side door and leapt inside, a bullet punched through the side-view mirror, spraying bits of debris across my body.
“Hurry up, Mac!” Ramon called as another bullet smacked into the driver’s side of the windshield, punching a hole through the glass and turning the rest into a mishmash of spiderwebbing cracks.
Ramon’s head snapped backward in a spray of blood, but before I could be horrified about our getaway driver being turned into a headless corpse, Ramon reached up, plucked the bullet from beneath his eyes and flung it like Orel freaking Hershiser. It passed straight through the bullet hole in the windshield and caught Sargent in the chest before he could fire again. The force of the bullet threw the Texan from his feet as he slid back across the gravel.
“Fucker,” Ramon growled, turning to look at me. Blood dripped down his face, but the wound was already closing over the metal plate embedded in his forehead so it sort of reminded me of Wolverine. “I really hate getting shot. Really screws up the reception.”
Maya leapt into the passenger seat next to Ramon as Sargent got to his feet and pointed the gun at her. Judging by the look on the Texan’s face, he wasn’t about to stop shooting so he could figure out why Ramon had warded off the first shot. No, instead, he’d pulled a second Colt free and was coming toward us looking all sorts of pissed off hillbilly.
I slammed the van’s side door shut and dropped down onto the forest green shag carpet covering the floor. As bullet shattered the windshield, Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival came blasting through the bus’s strangely state-of-the-art sound system.
The VW’s tires screeched as we took off, and I looked up in time to see Sargent leap out of the way of our oncoming hippie-mobile. I was pretty sure we didn’t have long before he came after us, and as I turned to glance out the back windows, I saw the hummer explode into a shrapnel-filled fireball.
“Whoa,” I said, spinning back around as Ramon caught my eyes in the rearview mirror. Then he tossed the spoon of a grenade to me. Had he thrown a grenade at the Hummer? Points for him.
“I’m counting this as two saves, Maya,” he said, a smirk playing across his malformed features. I’ll be honest, my stomach
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