Chapter 138: The Bear Had Been Smiling at Her

Dove kept her hands on the carton until she reached the cart. Putting it down gave her something to do while she looked along the street without turning her whole body toward the gray pickup. Two men stood beside the escaped attacker, one leaning against the open passenger door.

"Does he know we saw him?" she asked Edrik.

"Not yet. Don’t hurry."

Thorne came down the stairs with the last bag. Edrik spoke to him while helping settle it beneath the cart straps. From a distance they could have been arguing about loading. Dove wished that was all it was. Ten minutes ago, her biggest problem had been whether she could justify three sleeping shirts.

The department store’s dock faced the side street. Farther uphill, the convoy truck and their red pickup waited beyond a concrete loading office. The attackers’ gray pickup stood between that office and their cart, close to the opposite curb. Going straight to the driver meant crossing its open view.

Dove checked the other direction. A service alley ran behind the loading office, wide enough for their cart, with bins against one wall. If they reached it, the building would stand between them and the pickup. She pointed it out without lifting her arm high.

"That gets us to the driver," Thorne said, following where she pointed. "Stay on the building side of the cart."

"Don’t make me guess if that changes. Tell me."

He met her eyes and nodded. Edrik loosened his coat enough to reach the handgun at his side. The pleased look he’d worn while showing her the razor kit was gone. His hands were just as steady, which somehow made the change worse.

Dove checked the slingshot tucked at her belt. Her fingers weren’t shaking yet. She suspected they were saving that for the least helpful possible moment.

"Sprout, keep the screen clear unless I ask."

"Understood. You can still use storage with the menu closed."

For once it didn’t offer to improve her mood with a skirt. Dove appreciated the restraint and concentrated on the cart wheel as Thorne eased it off the loading apron.

Across the street, the escaped attacker put a hand on his companion’s arm. Both men looked toward them. The third climbed out of the pickup with something long held close to his leg. Dove saw the rifle when he cleared the door.

She had wanted her clothes, her movie, and a night beside her husbands. These men were turning that into another afternoon where somebody might bleed. Anger helped for about three steps. Then the rifle lifted, and her stomach dropped hard enough that she nearly missed the curb.

Thorne caught her elbow and guided her into the alley mouth. Edrik stayed behind the cart, putting its heavier load between the men and her until she reached the concrete office wall. He did not pretend cardboard would stop a bullet once she had better cover.

"Behind the corner, Dove. Both feet back."

She moved where he told her and took a breath through her nose. The wall ran ahead to the convoy’s loading yard. A parked maintenance truck narrowed the alley halfway along, leaving enough room for a person but not their cart without shifting its sticking rear panel.

Of course there was one more thing in the way. She could hear the convoy crew beyond it. They were so close, and she still couldn’t reach them.

Thorne checked the bent metal panel sticking into the gap. "I can fold that back. Edrik, keep them off this end."

A voice came from the street before he reached it. The escaped attacker called for them to leave the bags. He claimed they had stolen everything in the van, carefully leaving out the part where his friends had shot first.

"They were robbing travelers," Dove said, keeping her voice low for her men. "He knows we know that."

"Yes," Edrik said. "He wants us stopped long enough to get around us."

Thorne pressed his hand to the bent maintenance-truck panel, preparing to clear their route. Dove pulled one light bundle from the cart and stored it by touch, removing the part sticking furthest out. The strain was small. She needed that energy available if something worse happened.

The convoy driver shouted from the other side of the office, asking what was happening. Thorne called back that armed men had blocked the street. The driver drew his crew out of the open yard, and Dove heard the truck door slam. They had help nearby, but no clean line between the two groups.

Edrik held out a hand without looking back. Dove touched it once, then let go before she distracted him. He glanced down at her face, his expression changing only enough for her to recognize the man who had watched that ridiculous movie with her.

"Stay back. I’ll tell you when to move."

"I know. And don’t chase anybody away from us."

"I won’t."

She believed him. He could want a man dead and still care more about getting her through an alley. It mattered that she didn’t have to beg him to choose.

The escaped attacker moved nearer the parked pickup. His rifle companion remained behind its engine block, watching the alley entrance. The third man vanished around the back of the concrete office. Dove heard his boots scrape loose gravel on the far side and caught Thorne’s sleeve.

"He’s going around. The one with the dark jacket."

Thorne looked toward the narrow passage, then at Edrik. Dove could see their route changing in their faces before either spoke. They couldn’t push the cart toward a man waiting at the other end.

She crouched behind the wall and fitted a stone into the slingshot. Her hands had begun shaking after all. She set her elbows against her knees until she could get the pouch straight, hating how much work a little thing suddenly took.

At the street entrance, the escaped attacker raised his handgun toward the corner. Before Edrik could pull back, Dove saw the dark jacket reappear beside the maintenance truck, on their side of the office. He had a knife and a clear path to the cart.