Chapter 62

It wasn't long before they reached the trail. Liv followed their old tracks, searching for a specific landmark. Reaching the spot she was looking for, she stomped the brakes, skidded into a u-turn, put the transmission in park, and jumped out of the Jeep, right into the chest deep snow.

"Grab one of the long chains from the weapons locker, and then come find me," she yelled at Finn as she struggled toward a snow-covered lump. Liv reached the white mound and began digging frantically. By the time Finn had dragged the end of the long chain over to her, Liv had uncovered one end of a sturdy log.

"Here, help me wrap the chain around this log. Make sure and snag as many branches as possible," she instructed. The log she had uncovered was lay on top of several others, and it was relatively simple to wrap the chain around the bark. Liv's fingers lost all feeling as she handled the cold, linked metal with her bare hands, but she wasted no time.

Once the log was secured, they dragged the other end of the chain to the Jeep, and secured it to one of the hooks on the bumper. Finn used a piece of rope to tie the chain securely in place, and they jumped back in the warm cab. "Let's play a game," Liv said grimly as she put the transmission in drive. "I'm thinking baseball, and I'm up to bat, bitches." For the second time that morning, they headed into Max's trap.

"You ready for this?" Finn's voice almost cracked from the tension. The trees were thinning, and the plain would soon come into view. He gripped the black joystick apprehensively, and mentally prepared for the upcoming battle. He knew he would have to make every shot count. The battle with the last snowmobile had severely depleted the remaining ammunition.

"Hell yeah I'm ready," Liv spat angrily. "Those assholes kidnapped Grannie," she said as she goosed the gas pedal. Both Liv and Finn were pushed back into their seats by the sudden acceleration, as they roared into the jaws of the carefully laid trap. This time, they were trailing a heavy, ten-foot long log at the end of a thirty-foot length of chain. To an outside observer, only the spray of snow from the log was visible. It looked as if some kind of snow monster was chasing after the black SRT-8.

"When we bust out of the trees, I'm gonna go after those fuckers on the snow cat. I'll try and take out the driver. It's probably our only chance of killing them. Those guys are sporting some serious firepower and armor."

"Okay. While you do that, I'm going to play ball with some snowmobiles." Liv put her fist out and Finn bumped it with his. She took a deep breath as they burst out on the flat ground.

Instantly, lead began pounding the SRT-8's armor. The sound echoed through the luxurious interior, but none of the rounds penetrated.

Finn zoomed in on the snow cat and returned fire. He aimed at the large windshield. The 5.56 mm rounds slammed into the bulletproof glass, but had little effect. "Fuck, the twins aren't doing anything. The armor's too thick." Finn furrowed his eyebrows in frustration.

While Finn focused in vain on the snow cat, Liv sped toward the three snowmobiles. They were in a triangular formation and approaching at full speed. As the two opposing forces drew near, the snowmobiles on the outside of the triangle broke away and prepared to pass the SRT-8, one on each side. As they split, the men on the snowmobiles opened fire. Rifle bullets slammed into the armor, creating a raucous.

Liv ignored the onslaught and focused on the middle machine. The white snowmobile directly in front of her grew larger. "Got you fucker! Time to learn some physics."

The man on the machine realized that the armored vehicle was playing a deadly game of chicken, a game he would surely lose. He cranked the handlebars to the right.

"You read my mind!" Liv said to the turning snowmobile. As the machine swung around, Liv cranked the wheel to the left and revved the turbocharged V-8. The log responded to the abrupt change in direction by swinging out behind them. Like the end skater playing an old fashioned game of crack the whip, the heavy log strained against the chain and gained speed. As the centrifugal forces grew, the log became airborne, flying parallel to the ground and tugging mightily on the SRT-8's bumper.