Page 41

Chapter 40

Mila

W e dressed and packed up in silence, splitting a mug of instant coffee and a protein bar before loading our gear and the extra can of gas on the back of the ATV. There were no helmets, so our knit hats would have to do as protection from the elements. Speaking was impossible with the noise of the engine and the cold air whooshing past us. I was bundled up in almost every piece of clothing that had been packed for me. Jude was just as layered up. Freezing and exhausted, we made our way through the deep woods.

We stopped a couple of times for water and bathroom breaks and to stretch. Jude oriented himself with photos of the maps on his phone. We had no GPS out here, but he seemed to know exactly where we were going.

My shoulder ached fiercely as I clung to him, worrying I was wrong. Doubt had begun to seep in sometime in the middle of the night. And in the light of day, I was questioning everything. Had I missed important details? Was I drawing the wrong conclusions?

Jude pulled to the side of a wide gravel road and killed the engine. Then he hopped off and unlatched the gas can.

I stood to stretch as he topped off the tank.

“We’re on the river road.” He explained as he screwed the cap onto the can. “This is the border of the bat protection zone. Once we leave it, who knows what we’ll find.”

I blew out a long breath. This was it. We were going into enemy territory.

“Or,” he said with a small shrug. “We can take this east, meet the Golden Road and make it to one of our camps.”

He was giving me an out. A chance to change my mind.

While I appreciated it, it wasn’t happening.

“We’ve come this far,” I said.

He strapped the gas can back onto the ATV and stalked toward me, his eyes full of a mix of determination and dedication. As he approached, he pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head.

“I love you, Trouble.”

“Love you too,” I said, reveling in his warmth.

“Just like we planned, I’m going to circle around the old roads, see the condition. We do not get off the ATV unless we know it’s safe. We’re safer on this than we are on foot.”

I nodded, hit with a flood of memories of being chased through the woods.

“We stick together.”

“We go in together and we come out together,” I said, pulling him down for a kiss, trying to fake confidence.

We got our phones out and powered them on. Once we’d double-checked that they were on silent—not that it was likely we’d have a signal, but one could never be too careful—we stashed them in zippered pockets so they’d be handy. Jude would drive, and I would take as many photos as I could. The plan was to only get close enough to get the evidence we needed.

Back on the ATV, he revved the engine and patted my leg. Then we took off again, totally in the dark about what we might find.

We drove on narrow trails that were far more overgrown than any we’d been on yet. Jude had to navigate slowly around bulging tree roots and other debris as we made our way through. The canopy was so thick it blocked out almost all the sunlight, even though it was almost mid-day. About thirty minutes from the main road, as we approached what looked like a clearing, the sun started to peek through. But as we crested a small hill, it became clear that what we’d discovered was not a clearing at all.

Jude killed the engine and stared. In front of us was a road. An honest-to-goodness road. Wide, graded, and packed tight with gravel.

“This is not supposed to be here,” he said, scanning the forest around us. “Are we in the right place?”

From our position on higher ground, we could see that the road extended far into the distance.

“And is that a roof?” he asked, digging out the binoculars.

He pointed at a piece of what had to be metal glinting in the sunlight.

“Fuck,” he said, holding the binoculars out to me. “It’s definitely metal.”

I grabbed them and adjusted until I could clearly see the building ahead.

“Our outbuildings don’t look like that,” he explained. “We mostly build pole barns. For other structures, we use corrugated metal for roofing. Noisy but sturdy. Lightweight and easy to replace when necessary.”

“Can we get closer?”

He nodded and adjusted his hat. He’d just put his hands on the handlebars, ready to fire the ATV up, when he straightened and once again scanned our surroundings. “Do you hear that?”

I froze, head tilted, straining to pick up what he’d heard. Within seconds the sounds got louder. Engines.

Jude pulled the ATV off the road, and we crouched behind a copse of trees, looking down the hill.

Pickup trucks. Four of them.

“What the fuck?” Jude hissed beside me.

I grabbed the binoculars I’d looped around my neck and focused on the vehicles as the last one passed.

“The license plate is blue and white.”

“Quebec,” he said under his breath.

“And the bed is packed and covered with a green tarp that’s tied town tightly.”

He nodded.

“Let’s follow them.” I popped up.

Jude stood more slowly. “How the hell are they driving trucks through here? This doesn’t make sense. Did you recognize anyone?”

I shook my head. “Just random men. They had hats on.” It was freezing, after all.

He turned the engine over and straddled the ATV. “Stay here. I want to see where this road leads.”

“No.” I stomped up to the vehicle. “In together and out together.”

“Fine.” He dipped his chin. “Hop on. We’ll go down the road and then turn into the woods if we hear or see anything. Just hold on and be ready to take photos.”

I wrapped my arms around him, the adrenaline coursing through me blocking out any pain in my bad shoulder. We were so close.

Jude drove slowly down the hill toward the damn near immaculate road. The parade of trucks had barely kicked up any dust. The forest was thick and untouched here, which was far different from many of the other areas we’d explored. But straight through the middle was this pristine road. And I knew exactly where it led.

About half a mile down, the road widened, revealing scrub and small, skinny trees scattered throughout the landscape. This must be where the fire had burned. It made sense that plant life was still growing back.

It made even more sense when we came around a rocky ledge and found a massive warehouse-style building smack-dab in the middle of it.

A dozen or so vehicles were parked around the large brown structure, and a massive garage bay was open. I couldn’t make out the details of anything inside, but people were moving in and out. On one side, several motorcycles were lined up.

Jude immediately veered off the road, having to travel pretty far to find adequate tree cover.

“That’s it,” I said. The vindication that hit me was all-consuming. This was the spot we’d mapped. It made sense. The nerve center of an operation no one had been able to track for years.

No connecting roads, with only one way back and forth between the border and the farm.

And by the looks of it, several dozen people.

“We need to get closer,” I urged Jude.

He shook his head. “No. It’s not safe. They’re armed.”

“I can’t see anything from this far away.”

He shook his head. “No.”

A zap of annoyance ran up my spine. “We can’t get good photos from this distance. I didn’t exactly pack my paparazzi lens. get a bit closer,” I begged. “Cut through the woods if you have to.”

I stood on the back of the ATV, neck craned for a better look. We were so damn close.

“Fine, but stay low. If I get a bad feeling, we’re out of here.”

Without hesitation, I dropped back onto the seat and held on tight.

He drove through the woods, keeping his distance. Though between the vehicles and machinery around the building, I couldn’t imagine they could hear us. The path to the facility was bumpy and slow. Remaining hidden meant it wasn’t possible to look for the smoothest route. The skinny trees were not great coverage, but there were several boulders and bigger trees to hide behind as we got farther off the road. I had my phone out, taking video as we drove toward the building.

Bumping and creeping through the woods, the tires spitting mud and sticks in every direction, we made our way. But I needed to get closer.

I tapped his shoulder and brought my lips to his ear. “We need to go on foot.”

He shook his head and continued on. But as we came to several large rock clusters and wild tree roots growing around them, it became necessary.

We left the ATV behind a boulder and hiked through the rough terrain, crouching low as the noises got louder.

On the far side of the building, several large machines sat. Big digger-type things that I couldn’t name to save my life.

What I did recognize was the Deimos Construction logos plastered all over them. I snapped several photos. Then, feeling bolder, I pulled my hat down, tucking my hair in. Then, with Jude right behind me, I headed toward where the trucks were parked. If I could get close enough to get photos of the license plates, that would suffice.

Before we were close enough to make them out, a clicking sound nearby startled me.

I froze and snapped my head up, finding myself looking down the barrel of a revolver. Above us, a large man with a long, grizzled beard loomed.

“C’est quoi cette merde?” he said, looking us up and down.

What the fuck? indeed. This was not part of the plan.

“Get up,” he said, his accent thick. “Hands up.”

Jude tried to step in front of me, but the man pointed the gun straight at me until he got out of the way.

Shaking, mind spinning, I did my best to focus on breathing evenly. I had to keep my wits about me if we had any hope of getting out of this situation.

Jude had strapped the rifle to his back when we abandoned the ATV, but there was no way he’d get it and get the safety off before this man fired.

Beard guy yelled out, and another guy came running over, this one a bit younger.

“ Va cherer Denis ,” Grizzly Adams shouted.

The younger guy nodded and darted towards the building to get Denis . I prayed it was a kindly old man who would let us go and not Denis Huxley, indicted arsonist and attempted murderer. Because not only would he recognize me immediately, but he was a known loose cannon with terrible judgment. Not my first choice for counterpart of a backwoods negotiation.

The mountain of a man kept the gun trained on me as he gestured for Jude to pass over the rifle.

With shaky hands, Jude took it off his shoulder and handed it to him.

“Who are you?” the man sneered with a thick Quebecois accent.

“Hikers,” I replied. “ Nous sommes en randonnee. We’re just on a hike,” I said with a shrug.

Brow cocked, he gestured for us to turn and walk toward the open road. As we reached the tree line, I hesitated. But when he poked Jude in the back with the gun, I came to terms with my lack of options and continued moving.

No sooner had we made it to the road than Denis Huxley himself strode our way, a gun in his belt and a wide smile on his face.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he said, the grin making him look even more rat-like. “Another fucking Hebert? God, I cannot escape you people. You never stop causing fucking problems.”

He ran a hand through his greasy hair.

“Can’t wait to kill that bitch, Victoria.”

Jude stiffened beside me.

“The rest of your family too. I told my dad a decade ago that it was time to get rid of your old man, but he had a soft spot for him. Fuck of a lot of good that did us.” He shook his head and kicked at the dirt. “He should be here soon. Betting he’ll agree to let me shoot you pretty easily. Don’t think he’ll make that mistake a second time.”

I opened my mouth to try and reason with him, but before I could, a commotion at the building had all of us focusing on it.

Several dark SUVs came in from the other side of the road.

Including one with Lovewell PD on the side.

Relief washed over me. Oh, thank God.

“ Flics! ” Several men shouted the French slang word for police, running to their trucks.

Denis turned as several more vehicles arrived and police in riot gear exited quickly.

Jude grabbed my hand and tugged, and we broke into a run, headed for the woods.

“Get them,” Denis yelled, pointing his gun at us.

Jude pulled me down to the ground as a shot ricocheted off a tree nearby. Other shots rang out, echoing off the trunks around us. Shouting too. A man yelled instructions into some type of sound system as we continued to run.

Men spilled out of the warehouse, some getting in trucks and peeling out, gravel flying. Others shot at the police cars.

“On that ledge,” a deep voice yelled. The command was quickly followed by a spray of dirt nearby. Then a round of shots was fired in our direction. Jude pushed me ahead of him, shielding me as we ran toward where we had left the ATV.

The men chasing us were on our heels as I stumbled over roots and rocks. Fuck. I wasn’t sure I was fast enough to outrun them.

A large, thundering crack stopped me in my tracks. I snapped my head up as a large tree branch fell.

Jude pulled my arm, but before he could get me out of the way, the branch slammed into my hip, throwing me several feet.

I landed on the rocky earth, and pain erupted, lighting up my entire left side. Though I was no longer on my feet, I was still moving. It took a moment to orient myself. Only then did I realize I was slipping. I reached out, grasping for saplings, tree roots, anything to stop the fall. It was no use. I continued to fall, only stopping when the back of my head made contact with a hard surface. My vision went blurry, and I could no longer see or hear Jude.

There was screaming and shooting and the occasional screech of tires, but no Jude.

There was pain and dizziness, but I’d lost his comforting touch.

“Mila,” a voice called out. “Are you okay?”

A man stood over me.

Not Jude.

He wore a vest, and there was a shiny badge hanging around his neck.

“Mila, it’s Special Agent Portnoy,” he said. “Can you get up?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but pain ricocheted through my head.

He was FBI. That made sense. They really had shown up. My intel was right all along.

But where was Jude?

“Let me help you.” He held out a hand. “I’ll get you to safety. You’re okay now.”

With a slight nod that made my head spin, I reached for his hand and tried to sit up.

As I was working up the strength to pull myself to standing, my hand still locked in his, the sleeve of his uniform shirt shifted.

On his wrist, wrapping around the outside of his right hand, was a tattoo. Thick trunk, spiny branches.

A yew.