Page 28 of Hollow Trace

A heavy fog formed at the base of the hitch, rolling across the floor like a tsunami — spreading out into every corner, the intense cold stinging her skin as the cloud washed over them. Frost coated her eyelashes, more collecting on her weapons, a heaviness already forming in her head.

She staggered to her feet, moving with Coulter as they pushed toward the front, dodging the spray of brass from across the room. Neve and the others answered in kind, sparks lightning up the dark before the wall of vapor blew through, smothered everything in that blinding, numbing cold.

Quinn glanced up from the seat of the forklift as they stumbled back, his gaze immediately dropping to her vest. His left eye twitched before he touched two wires together, got the engine growling. Scout leaned against Coulter, the gas already clouding her thoughts, making everything blur at the sides, Neve, Wynn, and Zadie still laying down cover fire.

Quinn popped the forklift into gear, then tore off, picking up speed as he headed for the door. Bullets scythed off the back as Quinn lifted the forks to head level, the machine centered on the exit.

Scout shouted for Quinn to jump, stepping out into the fray when he kicked up the speed, bearing down on the blast door like a freight train. She opened fire, pelting the men with a spray of rounds, as the forklift vanished into the fog, just the whine of the engine proof he hadn’t stopped.

Metal shrieked from inside the cloud, what sounded like an explosion of belts and gears. Tires squealed in the distance, a hint of burnt rubber weaving through the air.

Coulter and Neve darted out, grabbed her by the vest, their carbines chewing through the posts and floor as they shoved her forward, Scout’s entire team stumbling their way toward the door. Her vision tunneled, every step harder than the last, when the forklift appeared out of the gray.

Backend raised at a forty-five, the machine looked as if it had hit a cement wall at high speed, part of the front caved in on itself. The middle section of the blast door had crumpled into a distorted V, creating a gap at the bottom and dislodging half of the wheels from the track. A swirl of cold, damp air breezed through the three-foot space, crashing waves sounding in the distance.

Quinn practically fell off the rear seat, tumbling onto the concrete in a disheveled mess. Coulter yanked him to his feet, shouldering half his weight, before helping him squeeze through the narrow opening. Scout stopped at the exit, stitching more rounds across their six, cursing when her rifle clicked, the mag fully spent.

Another round caught her in the shoulder, knocking her on her ass, as the pain kicked out the last of her oxygen. She tried to gulp in a breath, but nothing got past the freezing weight of the heavy cloud weighing down her chest. Grabbing her hand, Quinn dragged her under the door.

Cold, fresh air lifted some of the effects, but pain still burned beneath her skin. He hauled her to her feet, half-carrying her across the pavement as they headed back toward the fence.

She tapped his shoulder halfway there, chest heaving, the containers still blurring at the edges. “I’m good.”

He snorted, shoved her ahead, blocking any possible shot from behind as they retraced their steps, squeezing back through that hole in the fence. Coulter held one side wide, grabbing her hand when she nearly face-planted into the mud. He ushered her forward, staying on Quinn’s six until they reached the SUVs.

The chassis rocked as they jumped in, Quinn sliding behind the wheel. He caught the keys Coulter tossed him as she fell across the rear bench seat, sliding into the far door as Quinn shot backwards before spinning the wheel, peeling out of the gravel spur.

He hit the asphalt as he popped it into second, tires slipping on the wet surface. The rear end fishtailed, the entire vehicle shimmying along the road before he straightened it out, worked through the gears. Neve’s vehicle appeared behind them, quickly eating up the distance as they raced along the winding highway, waves crashing against the rocks, more rain already splattering across the windshield.

Lights reflected in the rearview, illuminating half of Quinn’s face as he glanced back, cursed. He tapped on the nav, quickly scrolling ahead before focusing on the road, the speedometer pegged at some insane speed.

He lowered the window, waved his arm out the side, slowing just enough to skid onto an old logging road, gravel spitting out from beneath the tires, a water bottle on the floorboards skittering across the vinyl.

Neve followed after him, headlights bouncing, a cloud of dirt and pine needles billowing out behind her. Quinn kept up the speed, skidding through some washboard, then bouncing onto another track, branches and brush whipping against the side of the vehicle, the ends scraping across the windshield.

Those headlights returned, farther back, but not gone, following their movements as if they already knew where Quinn was heading.

Quinn looked back at her. “You still seeing double?”

She straightened, all those kinetic impacts still messing with her breathing. “Twenty-twenty.”

“Good.” He lowered the rear driver’s window. “I think we’ve got that drone out my side. No way Coulter can get a bead on it without sitting on the door frame, and in these conditions, that’s a bit insane, even for you guys.”

Scout slid over, clicked in her last mag. “It’s dark as shit out there, and the damn canopy’s super thick.”

Quinn spared her a quick glance over his shoulder. “So, do some of that soldier crap that always impresses the hell out of me.”

She rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her mouth as she repositioned her body until she had the scope pressed to her eye, most of the barrel inside the vehicle instead of getting pelted with pine branches. She scanned the canopy, switching to thermal when a blip hovered on the edge of her view before sliding left.

She followed it as it darted in and out of focus, hiding behind the thick foliage before appearing in an opening for maybe a second, then vanishing again, the rain and the fog messing with the thermal and night vision. The icy drops cooled her skin, the cold wind numbing her fingers when she got a break in the canopy, the heat on the drone lighting up her scope.

She panned forward, judging the distance before exhaling — squeezing the trigger. The rifle kicked against her shoulder, the thut sounding through the cabin as the drone flipped over, spinning erratically a few times before crashing into the trees.

Quinn whistled. “See? Impressed. Now, hold on. We still need to lose those bastards.”

He picked it up, taking the corners a bit sharper, driving like he saw the road a few seconds in advance. Neve kept pace, following his line, somehow keeping her vehicle upright and moving despite the ruts and washouts. They crossed a culvert, water raging down the far side, a few deep tracks eroding the edge.

Quinn hit the brakes, skidded to a halt in a spray of mud and gravel. He jumped out, waved Neve on, then disappeared behind the vehicle. Scout peered out the back, but the glow from the taillights simply lit up the fog, throwing the light back at her.