Survival instinct takes over.
Edge and I dive into the Jeep face first.
“Drive!” I demand. “Move it!”
Rob shifts the Jeep in gear and peels out, heads in the direction of the cemetery road.
“Dude, who’s doing the shooting?” he barks.
“Just keep your Mohawk down and drive.”
More shots. A couple of rounds ricochet off the Jeep hood.
“Is it the cops?” Sarah asks.
I’m scrunched down in the front seat, while Edge is lying face first in the leg room area in the back of the Jeep. Sarah is lying on her side on the Jeep back seat.
“I don’t know,” I say.
But when I get a quick look in the direction from where the shots originated I can see that it’s not the cops we’re dealing with at all. But someone else entirely.
“f**k me,” I say. “They’re back.”
“Who?” Rob says as he skids into the ch
