Read Online H10N1 by M. R. Cornelius, Marsha Cornelius - Free Book Online

ordering her out of the car.
    Rick jerked the wheel to the left to zip across the median, but some idiot in the highway department decided this was a good place for a concrete barrier. Rick had been too busy keeping tabs on Sanchez to notice. He threw the van into reverse.
    Why didn’t she just plug the guy when she had a chance? What is it with women? Always giving people the benefit of the doubt. Falling for every trick in the book. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised to see her roll down the window to give the guy directions.
    Rick glanced out his window. Sanchez was still in the car. Oh, what? Now she finally got it, and was refusing to cooperate? Like the guy wouldn’t just blow a hole in her head, yank her dead body out of the car, and drive off? What was she thinking?
    Rick pulled forward in an awkward three-point turn, since the same idiot in the highway department had added a guardrail at the right shoulder.
    Shit! He should have cut harder on the reverse. Now the van was sideways on the highway, and he had very little room to maneuver. His sweaty hands slipped on the steering wheel as he wrenched it to the left.
    He hadn’t heard a gun fire yet. That was good. He shot another quick glance at the Doc.
    Okay, she was out of the car. “Give him the keys and walk away,” Rick yelled.
    But the Doc and the man seemed to be standing there talking. What, was she describing all the wonderful bonus items he was getting with his brand new car? Rations, water, jars of marinated mushrooms.
    At last, she finally stepped away from the car. Rick threw the van into forward. All he wanted to do now was get down there and ram that car. After all he’d gone through to get that SUV, he’d be damned if he’d let that fat bastard drive away with it.
    But Rick’s heart locked up. The guy was escorting Sanchez into the woods.
    “No!” Rick yelled at the top of his lungs. How many more of them were there in the trees? Hell, there could be two, three—more? Jesus, were they hoping for a gang-bang before they cut her up into little pieces? Didn’t that asshole see Rick turning around?
    He hit the accelerator, clipping the guardrail with his left front fender. The Doc disappeared into the trees as Rick barreled back down the highway.
    It all played out in his head. He was heading for a Mexican standoff. Sure, he might get a few rounds off, maybe take out one of them, but if they all had guns, Rick didn’t stand a chance. He’d be gunned down, left to rot out here in the middle of nowhere. Then they’d rape the Doc, leave her battered carcass for the vultures, and take both the car and the van.
    “Goddammit!” he screamed.
    He scanned the stand of pines as he roared past. Nothing. The trees were too spindly for someone to hide behind. They couldn’t be perched up in the branches. What was going on?
    At the end of the trees, Rick dove the van into the median, blasting the horn. Maybe he could scare them into thinking he had reinforcements with him. He caught a glimpse of Sanchez on her knees, with the guy standing right over her. Christ, she was going to take a bullet to the back of the head.
    Skidding to a stop, Rick grabbed the M-16 and leaped out of the van. “Hold it right there!” he yelled.
    Sanchez jumped up and sprinted toward him, her arms waving. What the hell? She didn’t shoot the guy when she had a chance, but she’d taken the time to put on a stupid surgical mask and gloves? And now she was blocking Rick so he couldn’t get a clean shot at the guy.
    “Move!” he yelled at her, then stepped to the side and took aim at the fat—
    Woman? Rick’s eyes jerked wide open. Hell, it was more like a girl. And her belly stuck out like she had a watermelon tucked under her jacket. The sweat on Rick’s back turned cold.
    Sanchez jammed a gloved hand into his chest and pushed him back. “This is a contamination zone,” she barked. “Where’s your mask?”
    His brain just locked up. What? He’d just risked his life