That was his plan. Luke was a better shot than his twin, but he was aware that it was next to impossible to hit a tire on a moving vehicle from a galloping horse. That wouldn’t stop him from trying, however. It wasn’t as if he had a lot of choices.
Concentrating on not being thrown off his horse, he slipped his Winchester from the scabbard, cocked it, and took aim just as the lead truck neared the main road.
Instead of zooming up the hill and jetting across the Montana highway as Luke expected, the driver slowed and merely lumbered up the incline. He then came to a halt. What the hell?
Luke looked to his left to see if something was preventing him from crossing or entering the main road.
“Are you kidding me?”telepathed his brother.“It looks like a funeral procession for some bigwig.”The line of cars seemed endless. He glanced upward and silently thanked the traffic gods.
“It must be Dad looking out for us from above,” Ryan telepathed back.
Luke doubted that, but whoever was responsible, he was thankful.
The delay would give him a few extra seconds to close the gap, increasing his chances for a better shot. Even if he managed to rip a hole in one of the eighteen wheels, it wouldn’t do much damage.
The second truck pulled behind the first truck and rolled to a stop.
Before Luke had the chance to pull the trigger, someone leaned out the window and pointed a rifle at them. Shots rang out from the rear truck.Those bastards. Didn’t they realize someone would see them? Or didn’t they care?
To hell with it.Luke fired his weapon while Ryan took aim with his Smith and Wesson 357. Luke was pretty sure he hit one of the rear tires on the second truck, but he’d need to do a lot more damage than that to be effective.
Even if it slowed them down, Ryan and he couldn’t chase the big trucks for long while on horses.
Ryan popped off a few shots. One pinged off the back of the rear truck, and the others probably missed.
“Aim, Ryan.”
“I’m trying.”
Luke took another shot, but he couldn’t tell if he’d been successful a second time. He didn’t hear any tire hissing, not that he would over the engine noise and Atlas’ loud snorting. Even if he had hit the side of the tire, it would take a few minutes for the driver to notice his tire was leaking air.
Luke looked for the license plate, hoping to memorize the number, but it was missing. No surprise there. Their efficiency implied they were professionals. It took balls and experience to pull off a heist in broad daylight. If appeared as if they’d done their homework. Someone must have told them there were only the two of them running the ranch.
As if someone had tossed teargas into their cabs, all of the men, wearing red or blue bandanas over their faces, raced out of the two trucks. What the hell were they doing? He doubted they were getting out to change the tire he’d hit.
In what looked like a choreographed movement, they lifted their guns at the same time and sprayed a line of bullets at both of them. One hit Luke in the shoulder and another in his thigh.Motherfucker, that hurt.
As a werewolf, the wounds would heal, but his injuries would prevent him from fighting at maximum efficiency.
Luke slowed and then glanced at the long line of cars. No one was stopping or even seemed to have taken notice of the drama unfolding a few hundred feet down the sloping hillside. Since it was lightly snowing, the car windows would be closed.
Ryan stopped, jumped down from Zeus, and then shooed his horse away.
“What are you doing?”Luke telepathed him.
“I can heal from a bullet, but Zeus might not survive. I’m not losing him.”
That was smart thinking. Luke lifted his leg to dismount and his knee gave way. He met the ground with a thud. “Go on, Atlas. Follow Zeus.”
Thankfully, his horse trotted off toward a line of trees several hundred feet away. If he’d had time, that’s where he would go, but unfortunately, all six men were running at them, spraying more bullets in their direction.
Ryan yelled and dropped his gun. When Luke glanced over at his brother, he was holding his right wrist, blood spurting out. That looked bad, especially since it was his shooting hand.
Mustering his reserve energy, Luke rose to his knees and fired at the two men in front. He hit one in the shoulder and another in the side, but it didn’t seem to affect them. By now, Luke could sense their werewolf signatures.
If the funeral procession hadn’t still been going, he would have shifted and torn out at least one of their throats. If he had managed that feat however, there was a high probability that he and Ryan would have died in the ensuring battle.
Ryan scrambled for his gun and picked it up with his left hand. He popped off a few more shots before all six men reached them.