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KENDALL
I don’t know what’s worse. Staying in an empty cabin waiting for the inevitable horror flick outcome or sneaking through the creepy woods at night, knowing the mob is out here.
An owl hoots overhead. In the distance, lightning flashes, briefly lighting up the sky and illuminating the three men in front of me.
I met Bishop, the hot mountain ranger who came to Stone’s house earlier.
Seeing him up close, I can think of at least five friends who would willingly get lost in the woods if it meant he’d show up.
Then there was Mason who’s as big as a bear but has a soft smile. Especially when Stone asked about his wife, Bella. I don’t know how, but he’s been following my brother’s trail away from the crash site, even though the rain washed most of the tracks away and it’s darker than a black hole out here.
Anson hasn’t said a word since he joined our little band of rescuers.
He’s wearing all black, which means he blends into the surroundings so well, that twice I’ve jumped when he moved around me to say something to Mason.
He’s a little bit scary. Maybe it’s the long gun strapped over one shoulder, or his stealth-ninja setting.
Whatever it is, I’m very glad to have Stone at my back.
He’s keeping watch in all directions as we follow this trail that is little more than an animal path.
“Here,” Mason calls softly, halting our progression. He kneels, pointing to something low. Stone and Anson pass me and flick on flashlights just long enough to see what it is.
“Damn,” Stone mutters. “Now we know for sure.”
Bishop points. “Six hundred yards that way. Last time I was here, the brush was high, but there should be a clear line of sight from the trees in front.”
I squint into the darkness following his direction and spot a low light. It must be the station.
“Anson, take the trees and keep an eye on Kendall. Mason, take the back. Bishop, want to walk in the front door?”
The ranger smiles. “Let’s see who’s home.”
Stone returns to my side. “Stay low and be ready. Your brother might need medical help.”
“Got it.”
We close the distance to the small cabin, which looks like it hasn’t seen life in a decade. Stone has me crouch near a bush that’s less than ten feet from the porch. “Anson will be close. If you need help, call.”
“I will.”
He presses a hard kiss to my lips, then melts into the night with the other men. Darkness closes around me. I suddenly feel very alone. But I’m not. Stone will keep me safe. I only hope these guys will protect him.
Seconds tick by. Each one feels like an hour. I grip the backpack tight, ready to rush to someone’s aid. It also gives my hands something to clench from the nerves swirling in my belly like a cyclone.
A throat clears nearby.
I freeze, not daring to breathe.
A shadow separates from the darkness, moving around the side of the house. He steps into a patch of moonlight.
I clamp my hand over my mouth to hold in the gasp. It’s Mikhail. He’s not wearing his suit jacket, so the guns in his holsters are visible.If I move an inch, he might spot me. I scan the area, trying to locate Anson, but it’s like finding a black cat in the dark!
Something swishes through the air.
Mikhail freezes, then drops to the ground and doesn’t move. I inch forward just enough to see him. His eyes are open, staring at the starry sky. A round, red wound gapes between his eyes.
Before I can process the dead man, shouts erupt inside, and shots are fired. I duck back to my hiding spot as someone bursts through the door.
Ilya Petrova.
My heart kicks up speed and my brain screams RUN !
Scrambling to my feet, I don’t think. Don’t even breathe. I just run for the trees.
“Stop!” Ilya shouts. “Grab her.”
An arm snakes out of the darkness and snags around my waist. I flail, trying to break free.
The man spins me to face him, and I’m looking up at Mikhail again. Only this time, there’s no wound between his eyes.
I scream.