Page 23 of Anthony Hawk

The first rider appeared out of the dark. Boone, with his Winchester rifle at the ready.

Anthony held his breath, but it wasn’t enough. There was a reason why these bounty hunters had such a reputation. They were good at their job.

Boone jerked his rifle up, searching the shadows. “Where the hell are you?”

Anthony didn’t dare to blink. He stared at Boone and hoped he would walk away. He didn’t.

“He’s here!” Boone shouted, diving from his horse and rolling toward the nearest cover.

Two more riders came in fast, fanning out. Sykes and Krell.

“Spread out!” Krell barked. “He can’t get all of us!”

Anthony slipped back inside the cabin and eased the rear door open. The ground was hard-packed. There were no tracks to betray him.

He made it twenty yards before a voice rang out. “There! By the pines!”

Anthony broke into a sprint, weaving between trunks as rifle shots cracked past him. Bark splintered at his shoulder.

He dove over a fallen log. He rolled. Then, he came up running. One bullet hissed by his ear. Another slammed into the dirt at his feet.

He ran until the gunfire faded.

Night wrapped the mountains tight. The stars burned clear overhead, and the air smelled of dust.

Anthony found a shallow cave and ducked inside before pressing his back to the stone. He tore a strip from his shirt and bound the cut on his arm. It wasn’t deep, but it would bleed enough to leave a trail if he didn’t cover it.

He assumed it would have healed by now. Evidently, all the running wasn’t good for the healing process.

Down in the valley, faint voices drifted up.

“You think he’s still movin’?”

“He’s gotta be,” Boone replied. “Krell says Vanburgh’ll pay double if we bring him in quick.”

Anthony shook his head slowly. Was everybody working for that monster?

“Come find me,” he murmured.

A branch cracked somewhere below. Footsteps.

Anthony slid along the rock wall until he could look down on them.

“You figure he’s in them rocks?” one of the three whispered.

“Only place warm enough to hole up,” Boone said. “We find the horse, we find him.”

They moved slowly and carefully. They were men who knew what they were hunting.

Thirty yards. Twenty.

“Krell, you take the left,” Sykes said. “I’ll circle the back.”

They approached. Closer and closer. Eventually, the three bounty hunters were so close that Anthony could hear them breathing. He could hear their hearts beating.

It wasn’t fear. It was adrenaline. How could they have been afraid in a situation like this? Anthony was outnumbered, and they knew they had the upper hand.

“You shouldn’t have come up here,” Anthony said. His voice was just above a whisper.