Jamie sat by the side of the road for what seemed like an eternity, even though it was just a few minutes. It hadn’t taken all of his energy to fix Cadence’s knee, or else he would have passed out, but he was wiped, and he knew it would take at least thirty minutes to completely recuperate. The thought of doing so in the SUV with some Hunter he had just met didn’t seem too appealing--especially since she would have had to carry him over to the vehicle--so he decided to sit in the grass and watch the cows, hoping the tranquility might make him convalesce a bit more quickly.
“Jamie, we have a problem, and we’re going to need your help. How are you?” Aaron was asking over the IAC, completely ruining the ambiance of the peaceful cows gnawing on the sweet green grass a few dozen yards away.
With a deep breath and a moment of reflection, Jamie replied, “I’m getting there. I guess it depends on what’s happening.”
There were a few moments of silence, which Jamie assumed meant that Aaron was gathering more information. “Cassie and Truitt just saw Sam’s old truck speeding down a road heading in your direction. They can’t get away from the Highway Patrol just yet. We’re pretty sure it’s Alex. I’d hate to see him get away.”
Even as Aaron was speaking, Jamie could feel a slight tremor in the ground, indicating a vehicle was approaching. Alex had intentionally helped Sam escape. He couldn’t get away; he was an accomplice now. Taking another self-inventory, and a very deep breath, Jamie replied, “I’ll do what I can.”
“That’s all I can ask,” Aaron replied.
Alex Sanchez sped off from the scene, taking one back road and then another in an attempt to both blend in and lose the LIGHTS team that may or may not have been observing him. He hated to turn his back on the team the way that he did, but he and Sam went way back, and when Sam’s niece and her family had been slaughtered by Giovani and his minions earlier in the year, Alex felt badly that he hadn’t made it to the scene in time to help. While he hadn’t had any direct contact with Sam since he had moved to North Texas, he knew he was in the area, and he had spent a great deal of time observing the local LIGHTS team. When he’d seen them moving out that morning, he’d decided to trail them, assuming there was only one reason why they’d be moving to a sleepy little town an hour or so away from Dallas in the middle of the day. Of course, he had been right. Now, he was hopeful that Sam could get away from the team and lay low for a few years in Mexico or South America, not causing any problems but not having to pay the piper for the Sierraville Incident either.
Alex was fairly certain he had gotten away by now, and his mind was on other things. As he passed by a cow pasture, barreling down the gravel road at about eighty miles per hour, he was shocked to see a figure step out into the middle of the road, gun drawn. He attempted to avoid him, but a shot through the tire sent the old truck spinning. He turned the wheel sharply back toward the road, which caused the Ford to tip, and the next thing he knew, he was hanging precariously from his seatbelt, the top of the truck within fingertips reach, shards of glass from the shattered windshield all over his clothes.
He’d hit his head, and while he wasn’t really injured, it took him a moment to grasp what had happened. “Damn it,” he muttered, realizing pretty quickly he had underestimated LIGHTS, and they had sent someone after him. He scrambled to unhook the seatbelt, wondering why he wasn’t being pulled out of the truck by his collar, and slid out the passenger side window, furthest away from the road.
His question was answered quite quickly, as he popped up behind the side of the truck, using it as a shield. “Well, if it isn’t Dr. Jamie Joplin,” he smiled, relieved that it was just a Guardian and not a Hunter. Another Hunter could have put him away, but everyone knew a Guardian couldn’t kill a Hunter. Despite this knowledge, Jamie had a Glock drawn on him, and Alex couldn’t help but notice that the Guardian’s hand was trembling. He seemed to be sweating, and he looked like he might fall over at any moment.
“Alex,” Jamie said absently wiping sweat from his upper lip on the back of his free hand, “you need to turn yourself in. My teammates will be here in just a minute, and they won’t hesitate to shoot you.”
Pulling his own Glock from the back of his waistband, Alex stepped around the truck, knowing there was only one person present who needed to worry about being shot. “Is that a fact?” he asked. He spied the FC44 parked under a tree across the road and knew that it would make his escape a lot more efficient than the beat-up Ford ever would have. “Listen, Jamie, you don’t want to fight me,” he began, stepping toward the front of the truck. “You know you can’t win. Hell, even if you weren’t half dead, you can’t kill me.”
Jamie’s brow furrowed. “That’s not true,” he began. “I can kill you, and I will if you don’t stand down, right now.”
The Guardian’s hand was trembling worse now; he looked like he might need to lie down right there in the middle of the road. “What are you talking about?” Alex asked, reaching the hood. “You’re a Guardian. I’m a Hunter. You can’t kill me.”
“Jamie, Aurora is on the way. She’ll be there in a couple of minutes. Stall him if you can.” Aaron was explaining.
“I have titanium bullets, right?” Jamie clarified through the IAC. “I can kill him, can’t I?”