The van peeled around a corner, damn near on two wheels. Hugh slipped sideways, almost off. His heart pumped like revving pistons. He slapped the side, found a firmer hold on the luggage rack.
His brain raced as fast as the tires. No way could he make it to the front. He didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of climbing along the top. And if they hadn’t already figured out he was holding on, they would soon. It wouldn’t take much to jar him loose—or ram him against a brick wall.
He needed to open the back and fling himself inside.
After that?
Well, he would wing it from there. Letting the van drive away wasn’t an option. Given the island’s current state of disorder, locating this vehicle later would be all but impossible. And he couldn’t let himself think about what would happen to Amelia and Joshua in the meantime, if they even lived.
Now, he just had to wait for the right time to make his move.
***
Amelia braced her feet against a crate in the van as the vehicle squealed around a corner. She clutched Joshua to her chest, struggling to keep her balance.
Thank God, their kidnappers were letting her hold him. Although that made it impossible for her to open a door and leap out onto the pavement, which may have been their intent. Not that she would have left without Joshua anyway.
She leaned against a spare tire, the road bumpy, her butt jostling painfully against the floor as the guy drove, the woman parked in the passenger seat. The smell of oil and tropical fruit hung in the air. She scanned the packed space, glass rattling, and found boxes labeled as water and juice.
So much had happened so fast. She’d barely had time to process the violent shift in her life. Why the hell had she been so proud and stubborn in walking away from Hugh out of some crazy fear he would walk away first? The man and woman had escorted her out of the school/hospital at knifepoint. As she’d walked down that hall and into the parking lot, she’d known that once she landed inside the van, her chances and Joshua’s would be reduced dramatically.
Swallowing back fear of the blade nicking her neck, she had screamed and screamed again—just before the man backhanded her so hard she’d lost consciousness for a few minutes.
She’d woken again as she’d been thrust in the back of a van. Seconds later Joshua was shoved into her arms. She’d barely regained her balance before they roared out of the lot, tires squealing.
Her hands shook as she took reassurance from her nephew’s steady breaths. She struggled to stay calm, but her reserves were already depleted. Her body just wouldn’t pony up any more energy. For now, she kept her ears tuned in to the couple in front, hoping to find out something, anything, that could help her escape. Thus far, she’d only learned their names were Oliver and Tandi.
Were they low-level opportunists, preying on the current crisis? Or did they have deeper ties to some kind of illegal organization from earlier, before the earthquake? Either way, the odds were not in her favor or Joshua’s. Exhaustion and defeat left her on the edge of tears.
A thump on the back of the van startled her already-jangled nerves.
Oliver looked over his shoulder sharply. “What the hell?”
Tandi pulled a gun from the glove box, a pile of papers showering out along with the weapon. “Drive faster.”
Amelia curled protectively around Joshua, angling her back toward Tandi, toward the gleaming gun muzzle.
One of the back doors flew open. A gust of night air rolled inside before a body blocked the opening. Amelia gasped, looking closer at…
Hugh? Oh God, it was really him. Here. And filling the opening, muscles bulging in his arms as he clutched the sides.
Tandi shouted, “Swerve, Oliver. Jerk the van around. Do something.”
The woman squeezed off a shot into the back. The bullet ricocheted inside the metal cavern. Amelia screamed, huddling her body around Joshua.
Liquid spurted from one of the boxes. Her ears rung. The acrid gunshot scent stung her nose along with an increasing fruity smell. To hell with covering her head. She cared only about Hugh and Joshua.
Big and alive and unharmed, he still clung to the back even as the van lurched.
Oliver back handed Tandi. “Stop shooting, bitch. You’re going to kill us all. I’ve got this.”
The van swerved again, so fiercely she feared the vehicle would roll. Oh God, she didn’t know what to do. If Hugh fell off, he could die. If he made it in here, he could die as well… The determination on his face, tendons straining, declared he wasn’t giving up. Either way, he would die trying.
And for Joshua, she had to take whatever help she could.
She risked letting go of the baby for a flash, setting him on the floor behind a toolbox. She grabbed a handle bolted to the side, then flung out her other arm toward Hugh. She reached, fingertips grazing him, van swaying.
“Damn it,” Tandi shouted from the front. “He’s still hanging on. Oliver, we have to do something.”