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Even without the phone, Gator now heard the rising engine noise as the vehicles approached. He waited on the outskirts of town, where an old gas station crumbled in the desert sands. He'd taken a little time to prepare, and he felt pretty confident about his set-up. The partial moon gave a silvery glow to the scene. The span of road in both directions, the broken building to one side with its concrete awning thrusting out over where the pumps used to be. Good thing Gator and the boys had scouted all around this area. Gave him a few choices for where to lay the plan, depending what she'd said.
He'd been sure she would either choose someplace public—good luck with that around here, unless she wanted to meet at the bar! Or someplace isolated, with a 360 view. Made their lives a little harder, but Gator managed anyhow.
He spotted the bike, racing toward him now at top speed. Behind it, the truck bounced over rough pavement, catching up fast. A shot rang out, the flash coming near the biker's back. She'd gone for it, then, and now tried to guard Monty's six as they escaped together. Gator suppressed his grin.
For the sake of realism, Monty had no idea what would happen next.
The bike roared ever closer, then the biker shouted, "Shit! Hang on!" He turned hard, or tried to, to avoid the rusting metal mess that Gator spread across the street earlier. The bike skewed sideways beneath the old gas station awning. Monty struggled to control it as it veered into the drifted sand. It started to spill and Jessica leapt from the back, turning toward the truck.
As she lifted her weapon, Gator pounced from the overhang.
Arms outstretched, he snatched her, hitting hard and rolling, tightening his grip on her. He got one leg wrapped around her legs as they tumbled on the broken asphalt.
"Jessica!" Monty shouted. That's right, buddy, keep up the charade.
Her entire body strained and writhed against Gator, to no avail. He outweighed her by fifty or sixty pounds, and if she were all muscle, so was he. He crushed her in his grip. "Don't fight me and you don't have to—"
Her head slammed backward into his face. His head rebounded off the pavement and pain exploded through his face, blood slicking his teeth.
She got a foot on the ground and pushed, arching her back like a yoga move, but his arms hadn't let go. If anything, he held on tighter, determined not to let her get away with breaking his nose.
She piked forward, and his arms slipped. Before she could bring the gun around, he grabbed her wrist, controlling the weapon away from him. Her shot went wild. Headlights illuminated them as the truck raced up.
With a twist of her torso, Jessica came about and bit Gator's inner arm. He howled, their positions reversing as he rapped her hand against the pavement, trying to free the gun, hulking over her like he'd tear her throat out with his bare teeth.
Her knee slid forward. Before she nailed some part of him he couldn't do without, Gator flipped aside, dragging her with him by her captive arm. The gun finally dropped, and she snagged it with her heel, kicking it up, reaching with her left hand like some Chinese martial arts master. The hell? He spun her away, and his grip broke like in a crazy game of "crack-the-whip".
Jessica rolled into a somersault and sprang up again, already running, abandoning both Monty and the gun.
With a squeal and a jolt, the truck surged forward and rammed her.