Page 36 of Raven's Hunt
Tierney nudged Buck. “I think we should?—”
Branches rustled on the other side of the bank a second before two men stepped out. High-end performance gear. Rifles that bordered on trophy pieces already snugged against their shoulders.
The lead guy muttered what sounded like, “Found them,” as his finger slipped inside the trigger guard.
Bastard dropped before he got off a shot, the stock slamming against Tierney’s shoulder as she fired a quick burst, sent the asshole tumbling back.
His buddy panicked, set off a spray of brass, obliterating one of the roots next to Tierney’s head as Buck dropped him with a double tap to the head. The couple between them froze, eyes wide, mouths open in a soundless scream.
Tierney stepped in front, blocked the view of the men sprawled out in the ferns before gesturing to a rocky outcrop a hundred meters behind them. “Let’s get you two somewhere safe until we can circle back.”
They followed like zombies, eyes glazed over, every part of them shaking. Tierney cleared a small cave cut into the granite like a scar across the face, set them up inside with a flashlight, some granola bars, and her KA-BAR.
She moved to the edge. “I’ll cover the entrance with brush. You need to stay here and stay silent while we get the others. And keep that flashlight on the red setting so no one sees the shine in the dark. Clear?”
A nod. Or maybe it was just the woman shivering. Either way, Tierney took it as her cue to move.
She hid the entrance, stepped up beside Buck.
He offered her his knife. “I don’t like you being without one.”
She smiled. “You’re better at throwing them than me.” She swallowed, glancing back to the cave. “I hate this.”
He nodded. “Me, too. We can try to text Dalton when Pike calls and kills the jammer?—”
The cell rang, the sound ringing through her head just like the shots had.
She dug the phone out of her pocket, flipped it open. “I thought you’d forgotten about us.”
Pike breathed into the phone, the harsh sound prickling the hairs on the back of her neck. “Looks like I might have underestimated the two of you. Those were two of my premium clients you just butchered.”
“Isn’t that what the game’s all about? Kill or be killed?”
“Touché. Though, your free ride’s over. And before you think about texting one of your teammates, having them sneak in and grab your first survivors, I’ll know if they cross the perimeter even without the collars, and the rest will pay, so… I suggest you tell them to hang tight.”
Buck frowned, searching the sky, looking for the drone Pike must have hovering overtop, listening to their conversation.
“The next set of coordinates are inbound. I think it’s time we see exactly what you’re both made of. And don’t assume the remaining hunters are more weekend warriors. In fact, assume they’re as deadly as the two of you.” A beep sounded in the background. “Time’s reduced to thirty minutes, and these collars won’t be so simple to disarm.” Pike breathed again. “Run, pet.”
He hung up, the sudden silence chilling her to the bone as the cell vibrated, another set of numbers showing on the screen.
She tapped the text, plotted the route in her head. “He’s taking us back toward the logging camp. We’ll have to stick to the main trail system or we won’t make it.”
“Then, lead the way, sweetheart. I’ve still got your six.”
Tierney met his eyes for one hard, grounding second, then broke into a run.
Mud and dead pine needles spat up from her boots as the fog thickened around them, weaving through the lower branches like torn lace. The timer from the phone flashed in her mind, a digital countdown ticking against the weight of the lives they’d just left in the dark.
Thirty minutes.
Four hostages left.
And Pike hadn’t even started playing for real.
Chapter Eleven
The light had faded into a dusky gray as Buck sprinted along the old two-track, shadowing Tierney as she followed whatever route she’d mapped out in her head. He didn’t know how she’d memorized the entire area from nothing more than a few glances at the screen, but he trusted she knew exactly where she was going.
