The AR-15’s magazine contained thirty .223 Remington caliber rounds. Nova emptied the entire magazine in a matter of seconds, starting at the center of the board before spraying the top and bottom and sides. Then he threw the rifle aside, sprinted at the wall, and threw all his weight into the barrier.
He broke through.
Jessica hurriedly limped after him just as the tunnel began to collapse. Nova grabbed her and pulled her away. They were outside now, on the side of a hill. Nova slipped and fell and rolled several yards down the incline before managing to stop himself.
“Are you all right?” Jessica shouted.
He picked himself up, dusted off his hands, and looked at how much farther it was to level ground. Nodding, he said, “We need keep going.”
Jessica limped up next to him. Nova went to pick her up again, but she shook her head and told him no, she didn’t want to be carried anymore.
Nova squinted at the gash on the side of her head. “Is that still bleeding?”
She touched the wound gingerly, her fingers coming away covered in fresh blood.
Nova unbuttoned the sheriff’s shirt and slipped it off his shoulders. He wrapped it around her head and used the sleeves to tie it tight. It wasn’t perfect but it did the trick.
“Now what?” Jessica asked.
“Now we head back to the entrance. Hopefully the sheriff’s car wasn’t destroyed in the blast.”
“Why?”
“I have the sheriff locked in the trunk.”
They started around the hill toward the entrance to the bowl. Because of Jessica’s leg and her insistence to walk on her own, it took them a while but that was okay. Right now nobody was chasing them. Connolly’s men were still over in Kadrey searching the desert. Maybe they had heard the explosion, but Nova doubted it. He also doubted any of the men would contact Connolly. After all, it wasn’t like they would have news that they had found Nova. None of the men would want to admit they hadn’t been successful yet. The only communication would come from Connolly himself, and Nova doubted Connolly had warned his men about the approaching authorities.
Fifteen minutes later they crested the top of the ridge and started down into the bowl. Even in the faint moonlight they could see the entrance to the mine had been destroyed.
The helicopter was gone.
The vehicles—or what was left of the vehicles—were all covered in a layer of dust and rubble. The Crown Vic hadn’t been completely destroyed in the blast. The windshield had been shattered, but that appeared to be the worst of the damage.
Nova still had the key in his pocket. He slipped it out as they approached the trunk.
Jessica stopped him, placing a hand on his arm. “Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“You didn’t have to do this for me.”
“Who says I did it for you?”
She smiled. “That’s right. You’re in love with that coworker of yours.”
Nova decided to ignore that. “What about you? Did you find what you were looking for?”
She was quiet for a moment, her gaze focused at something distant over his shoulder. “Not really. It turns out my brother wasn’t really who I thought he was.”
“What do you mean?”
“Connolly told me he became addicted. That’s why he got in trouble. He wasn’t trying to bring these people to justice. He just got hooked on meth. He ran, and Connolly’s men chased him. My brother …” She shook her head, her voice cracking. “Connolly’s men didn’t kill Jacob. Jacob killed himself.”
Nova used his finger to tilt her face toward him. She didn’t want to at first, keeping her gaze glued on that distant spot over his shoulder.
“Hey,” he said.
She looked at him.
“Fuck Connolly. The guy’s a prick. Are you really going to believe anything he told you?”
Jessica didn’t answer.
“You know your brother cared about you a lot, don’t you?”
A slight nod.
“He blew off a hot date and drove three hours to visit you at camp, didn’t he?”
Another slight nod.
“That happened. Connolly can’t take that away from you. Nobody can take that away from you. Your brother loved you more than anything. That’s all that matters.”
Up over the top of the bowl came the crunch of gravel and engines. Flashing red and blue lights winked off in the distance.
Nova inserted the key, popped the trunk. Sheriff Leonard Smith lay inside, his wrists handcuffed behind his back, a gag in his mouth. He wore only his underwear and undershirt and socks.
Smith stared up at them, grunted something indistinguishable.
“What’s that?” Nova said. “You want me to keep you locked in there?”
Smith grunted even more loudly, his eyes wide in protest.
“Don’t worry. I’m not locking you up anymore. These guys, on the other hand …”
He stepped back as the first car crested the ridge. Even in the dark Nova could see the state trooper logo on the side of the vehicle.
Nova pulled the only weapons he had left on his person—a handgun and knife—and tossed them on the ground.
“We should probably make it easy on them,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
Nova showed her. He lowered himself to his knees, threaded his fingers and placed his hands on the back of his head.
Jessica lowered herself to her knees and did the same.
Neither of them spoke then, both waiting, and watched three more police cars follow the first one down into the bowl, their rooftop reds and blues lighting up the night like a disco.