Brett Battles - Little Girl Gone

He sensed more than heard the person rushing through the apartment.

A light flicked on in the hallway spilling into Elyse’s room. Quietly, Logan rose to his feet, ready to act if Angie or whoever it was decided to come his direction. Instead, the person entered the bathroom.

Logan repositioned himself so that he could see into the hallway, but wouldn’t be noticed without effort. Soon the toilet flushed, then water ran in the sink. A few seconds after it shut off, the person stepped back into the hallway.

It was Angie, and she was obviously in a hurry as she all but sprinted into her bedroom.

Logan stepped lightly out of Elyse’s room, and into the dark living room to wait.

It was only a few moments before he heard the suitcase bang against something. Once Angie reached the hallway, she stopped just long enough to flip off the light, then enter the living room.

Logan remained motionless as she lugged her bags toward the front door. As soon as she passed his position, he moved silently in behind her, then reached out and grabbed a loop on her backpack, and gave it a tug.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

She swallowed a scream as she whipped around, nearly losing her balance in the process. Logan held tight to the loop of her backpack, so as she’d turned, the bag slipped from her shoulder and off her arm, until he was the only one holding it.

“Who are you? What do you want?” she asked.

“Just wondering where you were going,” he said.

She took a hard look at him, then her eyes widened. “You’re that guy from last night. Logan Hooper.”

“Close enough.” He glanced at her suitcase. “You seem to be in a hurry.”

“I am.” She tried to grab her backpack from him, but he swung it out of her reached. “Give it to me. It’s mine.”

“You and I need to have a talk.”

“ I need to get out of here. Give it back!”

“Talk first.”

“I don’t have time to talk with you.”

“And why would that be?” he asked.

She looked at the backpack, then said, “Keep it.” She picked up her suitcase and headed toward the door. But Logan got there first, and put a hand against it before she could pull it open.

“Please, let me go!”

“Once we talk, you can go anywhere you want.”

“No! Please! If I stay here I’m dead!”

For a half a second, he was struck silent. Not by her words, but by the utter fear behind them.

“All right. Then we’ll go somewhere else,” he said.

“Fine,” she said quickly. “Just, please, let’s go.”

He moved his hand, and let her open the door. Once they reached the ground level, she turned toward the back of the small complex, presumably heading for the tenant parking area.

“No,” he said, then motioned in the direction of the street where his El Camino was waiting. “This way.”

“Hell, no! You’re crazy if you think I’m going to come back later to get my car. I’m taking it now.”

They locked eyes for a moment. “All right,” he said. “But you’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you drive on your own. We’ll go together, then you’re going to have to drop me off close to here when we’re done so I can get my car.”

“Whatever. No problem.”

Logan knew she had no intention on dropping him off anywhere near this area. In fact, he was sure she planned on getting into her car, and leaving before he had a chance to join her.

He let her lead them down a windy stone path to the pack parking area. Most of the dozen or so spaces were full. Angie headed toward a blue Mini Cooper near the left end.

“I’m going to have to pull out first,” she said. “The jerk in the slot next to me always parks too close.”

As they got closer Logan could see that she was right, but he had no illusions she would actually stop to let him in. He was about to tell her they would both get in on the driver’s side when a man stepped from the shadows, a gun in his hand.

“No one’s going anywhere,” the man said.

Angie reflexively brought the suitcase in front of her like a shield, but unless the clothes inside were made of Kevlar, her luggage wasn’t going to do her much good.

The man walked steadily toward her, moving his gaze back and forth steadily between Angie and Logan. It was Tooney in the refrigerator at Coffee Time all over again. Logan knew instantly this man was only here for one purpose, to deliver the death Angie had been trying to avoid.

Logan had only one shot at this, and he knew it. He watched the man’s eyes, and the moment they flicked from him back to Angie, Logan drew his arm back a few inches, then swung it forward, letting Angie’s backpack fly from his hand on a low trajectory, straight at the man’s knees.

Immediately, he followed.

The motion of the bag caught the gunman’s attention. He turned, then twisted to the side to get out of the way. The bag missed him, but Logan didn’t.

He slammed into the man’s shoulder and pushed him face first into Angie’s Mini. He wrenched the gun away, then landed two quick blows to the guy’s kidneys. The man rolled onto his back, and threw a punch that grazed Logan’s chin.

Logan didn’t want to waste any more time, so he kneed him in the groin, and shoved him to the ground.

The man writhed in pain, and wasn’t getting up any time soon.

When teaching self-defense techniques, Carl had always said, “Hit ’em fast, and hit ’em hard. Don’t ever give them a chance.”

Check. Check. And check.

Logan turned, intending to grab Angie and get the hell out there. But while her suitcase was sitting in the middle of the pavement, she was gone.

18

Logan scooped up the man’s gun, then headed straight for the street knowing there was little chance Angie had returned to her apartment. When he reached the sidewalk, he spotted her two buildings down, running away. Instead of chasing her on foot, he ran over to his El Camino and jumped in. By the time he pulled level with her, her pace had begun to slow.

As he rolled down his window he yelled, “Get in!”

She looked over, but didn’t stop.

“How far do you think you’ll get like that? Just get in the car!”

A squeal of tires echoed down the street from somewhere behind them. Logan looked back. A car had just sped out of Angie’s apartment complex driveway, and was now heading straight for them.

“Angie, now!” he yelled.

She didn’t need any further prompting. Logan slowed but didn’t stop as she raced around the back of the car, and opened the passenger door.

“Come on! Come on!” he yelled, his gaze firmly affixed on the rapidly approaching car in his mirror.

The moment her butt touched the seat, he hit the gas, but even as fast as they were accelerating, it wasn’t enough. Seconds after Angie had closed the door, they lurched forward with a loud, metallic crunch as the other car rammed into them.

Logan looked in the mirror again. One of the sedan’s headlights had been knocked out in the collision, but he doubted the man sitting behind the wheel cared. The guy looked like all he wanted to do was finish the job he’d started, and throw Logan in as a bonus.

Logan glanced at Angie. “Hold on! We’re going to make a quick turn.”

If she acknowledged him, he didn’t hear it.

He kept their speed up until the very last second, then backed off the gas, and turned the wheel. As he’d hoped, the guy behind them hadn’t anticipated the move, and was forced to rapidly decelerate.

They ended up with about a half block gap between them, which was a hell of a lot better than the half dozen feet they’d had before. Logan’s initial strategy was to lose the other car in the maze of the less-populated, residential streets, but while the tactic had kept the sedan from gaining on them, they weren’t shaking him, either.