“Your phone,” the boy said.
When Ian hesitated, the gunman swung his 9mm toward the mother and children. She cowered, covering their heads. Ian could disarm this little motherfucker and throw him off the train, but not without risking a wild shot. He fished his phone out of his pocket. His information was password-protected, so it didn’t matter. They’d just wipe it and sell it.
Whatever. He had more important things to worry about.
The boy added his phone to the loot and took Ian’s backpack. Before they moved on, the gunman punched Ian in the stomach. He fell to his knees on the metal grate, startled by the blow. Then the bandits took off, jumping to the next railcar.
Assholes.
He waited a few seconds to catch his breath. Then a female scream rang out in the distance, and his blood ran cold.
Maria.
“Don’t go,” the man next to him said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “They’ll kill you.”
“That’s my woman,” Ian said, shaking him off. He made his way toward the ladder and scrambled down to the ground. Two rail workers were pushing the couch off the tracks. The train was going to start moving again with the robbery in progress. He didn’t have much time. He ran toward the seventh railcar and climbed up, his heart in his throat.
One of the bandits stood guard at the top. He didn’t hear Ian over the noise of the engine. He probably wasn’t expecting anyone to come up, and he was too busy watching his partner terrorize Maria to notice anything else.
Ian tapped him on the shoulder. When he whirled around, Ian introduced himself with a simple uppercut. The bandit crumpled on the grate, unconscious. The gun fell from his limp hand and tumbled over the edge of the railcar, onto the tracks below.
One down.
An easy one, to be fair. Another teenager.
The man on top of Maria noticed Ian’s approach. He had a stocky build and a tattooed face. His bandanna was pulled down around his neck. He didn’t appear intimidated, despite Ian’s quick dispatch of his partner. He was holding a knife to her throat.
Maria stared up at Ian with wide eyes. She stayed very still, her chest rising and falling with panicked breaths. Her clothes were intact. The gang member pulled the knife away slowly and rose to his feet. Ian considered drawing his gun. He’d feel no remorse whatsoever about using lethal force on this asshole. But then the train jolted forward, and his window of opportunity closed. It wasn’t a good idea to stand on top of a moving train, let alone fire a weapon from one.
“¿La quieres?”the man asked, letting his blade glint in the dark.Do you want this?
Ian didn’t, but he was blocking the bandit’s only escape route. They were going to fight no matter what. He was confident in his close-combat skills, so he wagged his fingers in a come-at-me gesture.
The man advanced, slashing the air near Ian’s midsection. Ian evaded the swipe and grabbed his wrist, shoving his arm up over his head. His opponent stumbled backward and went down, but he took Ian with him. They rolled across the grate, locked in a deadly embrace.
Ian landed on his back, which wasn’t where he wanted to be. His right hand was busy, so he struck with his left, landing several hard blows to the bandit’s temple and ear. Blood trickled down the man’s tattooed cheek. He growled and returned the favor, punching Ian in the throat. Ian coughed at the searing pain, unable to draw breath. His grip loosened. Lights flashed before his eyes.
Huh. Guess he should’ve used his gun.
Someone, maybe Maria, kicked the bandit in the ribs. It was just enough to break them apart. Ian scrambled to his feet, staying low. The bandit squared up across from him, still in possession of the knife. His face was bloody, gaze unfocused.
“Ian!” Maria screamed.
He felt a looming presence behind his head. He got down on instinct, ducking a split second before they entered the tunnel. The clearance was about five feet. It struck the bandit with full force and flung him far into the night.
Then everything went dark and still, and the only sound was the train rushing over the tracks.
