Part II: Bravery Under Fire

"I thought he was waking up," says Jacque, when she saw Ratliff's eyes flicker. "And so I just did it real fast. And then he actually woke up."

"Tamara smashed him in the head with the whiskey bottle. And then since his door was open, that, that little crack, he, like, fell over," adds Jacque.

"So we kicked him out. I threw the knife at him, and Tamara threw the whiskey bottle at him."

Jacque and Tamara locked the doors, rolled up the windows and then realized that Ratliff still had the car key - and both guns.

Bleeding profusely from the knife wound in his neck, Ratliff threatened to kill them if they didn't open the door. He began shooting over the car.

"We couldn't go back," says Jacque. "We couldn't take back what we had just done and we were going to suffer for what we tried to do to him."

Somehow, Jacque and Tamara convinced him not to kill them: "We started talking to him about God, If he was to kill us, if God would ever forgive him for what he was about to do."

"After we started mentioning God and stuff, he, like, calmed down a little bit," says Jacque. "And he was like silent for a couple moments."

With Ratliff still armed, the girls had no choice but to let him back in the Bronco. By now, they had been with him for about nine hours.

About 130 miles away, police were leading a massive effort to find the girls. Freeway billboards flashed a description of the Bronco. These signs were part of a new warning system called "Amber Alert," designed to quickly notify the public when children are abducted.

"She's a mother. She cared. She cared about those girls," says Kevin Seymour, a psychologist and friend of the Ratliff family.

"He was very kind to my children. He was a good man when he wasn't drinking. But alcohol was real poison for this guy."

Ratliff, the father of two, had been in and out of prison since he was a teenager for nonviolent crimes. But Seymour says Ratliff was always trying to turn things around. He once worked as a gardener at a child care center, and said it was a great reward to hear the children laugh.

"The children at the child care center loved him. When he drank, he became violent and he felt unable to control that,' says Seymour.

"He kept telling me to watch his neck, and tell him when to wipe," says Jacque. "It was bleeding real bad still and the blood would just like pour down, and I'd tell him to wipe so he'd wipe."

Jacque remembers Ratliff playing a song about suicide, and telling the girls he didn't care if he died or not.

Milton Walters, a highway worker, heard reports about the abduction that morning. Just about 11 a.m., Walters was shocked to see a white Bronco coming his way on Highway 178.

"I looked right at him. Right through the passenger side window and he kinda had, like, a crappy little smile on his face and kind of nodded at me as he went by," says Walters, who called police on his cell phone.

Helicopters and planes raced to the area. But in the vast desert, they couldn't find the Bronco.

Back in the Bronco, Jacque and Tamara felt the truck go off the road. They had a sickening suspicion that Ratliff planned to kill them and dump their bodies in the brush.

"They were excess baggage. He had to get rid of them," says Sheriff Carl Sparks. "He had stopped that Bronco because he had found the place where he wanted to do it."

Suddenly, Jacque and Tamara heard a helicopter overhead. It got louder. But they were also worried, because Ratliff said he would kill them if the police ever showed up.

"We were hoping that the helicopter would go away," Jacque says. It didn't.

Kern County deputies James Stratton and Larry Thatcher followed the helicopter to an isolated stretch of land in the Mojave Desert.

For the first time, they came face to face with Roy Dean Ratliff. "I drew my weapon," Thatcher says. "I yelled at him to get his hands where I could see 'em. He hollered back at me, 'No ... way'"

Ratliff drove off into the brush, fast. "He just turned to the left real fast," says Jacque. "When he turned, the Bronco almost flipped. And then he got stuck on a rock."

The deputies ran down the hill toward the Bronco. They didn't know where the two girls were. But Jacque and Tamara, who were lying in the backseat, saw the officers.

"He jumps on the back of the seat and he had his gun in his hand. I thought he was gonna kill me right then," says Jacque. "Because his gun was loaded and he had it right by my head."

"He was shouting out at the cops, 'I have the girls. You better not shoot or else they're gonna die.'"

With about six feet separating the cops from Ratliff, the two deputies put their lives on the line.

Within seconds, Ratliff pulled the trigger, shooting out the window. The deputies shot back. "The bullets were just flying everywhere," says Jacque, who suddenly was in the midst of a deadly gunbattle.

"Once I made sure of my target, I lined up my sights straight on him and I squeezed the trigger," says Stratton. "The glass looked like it fell like rain drops, and he looked at me with the sense of 'You got me!'"

A bullet fired by Thatcher killed Ratliff.

"When I was finished firing, then I can see the Bronco rocking and definitely can hear some screaming," says Stratton. "It's just like a newborn baby… you wanna hear your child screaming. Because when you hear that, you know they're alive."

Seventeen bullets hit the Bronco during several seconds of intense, smoky gunplay. It is a miracle that Jacque and Tamara got out alive.

"It was just an indescribable feeling of, like, just relief," Jacque says. "Like life actually existed again."

Since 48 Hours Investigates last brought you this story, Jacque has graduated from high school. She starts cosmetology school in the fall and is currently working part-time.

So far, Jacque has received letters from strangers - some from rape survivors, others who are inspired by her courage.

Jacque fills every minute of every day, pouring herself into coaching her sister's cheerleading team, juggling schoolwork and a job. She leans on family and friends, but what happened in the Bronco can never be erased.

"If I wouldn't have done it, I would've regretted it forever," says Jacque. "Even if things did turn out the way they did, I would still have rather fought back."

Police believe fighting back is a key reason why Jacque and Tamara are still alive.

"I know now what I can overcome," says Jacque. "I know now, if I set my mind to something, I can accomplish it."

This spring, President Bush signed a measure creating a national "Amber Alert" system to help find abducted children by notifying the public in those critical early hours.

Both Tamara Brooks and Jacque Marris were among the kidnapping survivors who attended the ceremony at the White House.

For Tamara and Jacque, two young women who have become symbols of hope, their message is literally "never say die." They want it known that we all have an extra supply of resiliency and courage to make it through the darkest hours.