Page 29

Twenty-eight

RILEY OPENED the bathroom door after changing to find Greyson holding up her boots in one hand, her coat in the other. Taking the boots, she sank onto the end of the bed and pulled them on, then stood.

Ready? he mouthed, holding out her winter coat.

She nodded, and he helped her into it. She grabbed her backpack. He did the same.

He cracked the door and peeked into the passageway, then stilled. He eased the door shut and locked it. “We need another way out.”

Agreeing with another nod, she moved for the oversized window on their back wall.

He helped her through, then followed.

Their front door opened as his boots hit the ground. He eased the window shut, and they bolted for the wrought-iron doors of the outer gate.

Reaching the Rover on the other side of the wrought-iron fence, Greyson opened her door, and she climbed inside. He raced around and hopped in the driver’s side. He turned the ignition. Click. Click. Click.

He took a deep breath and turned again. Click. Click. Click. “It’s rolling over but no catch. Hang on.” He climbed out and lifted the hood, then hurried around to her side. “Come on. We’ve got to go. Someone took our spark plugs.”

She jumped out, now noting the flat tires.

Greyson popped the trunk and lifted the cover to the spare tire and tools. He reached into the cubby to the side, and relief swelled in her chest when he pulled out an auxiliary handgun and gave it to her. Then he reached over into the space above the wheel well and pulled out his dismantled rifle, put the pieces together, and loaded it. He looked over his shoulder, and she followed his gaze. Clear. He opened the toolbox and pulled out two flashlights and his compass.

“Where are we heading?”

“Into the mesa.”

His gaze shifted to the building next to the parking lot. “We need to move.”

Kevin and a man she didn’t recognize stalked down the building’s well-lit hallway, headed straight for the glass exit door and them.

“Move,” Greyson hollered. His hand firm on her lower back, he shoved her forward, and they ran.

Snow crunched beneath her boots as they hit the mesa, and she prayed the sound didn’t give their position away. Thankfully, new falling snow rained down, hopefully fast enough to cover their tracks.

“We need to get a hundred yards out. Past that cleft for some cover.” His words clipped out in sync with his stride.

Adrenaline singed her limbs, heat swarming down her thighs with each elongated stride. She faced forward, fighting the urge to look back. To see if the men had spotted them fleeing in the darkness, the moon shadowed by snow-filled clouds.

“Down!” The word rushed out of Greyson’s mouth on a heavy breath.

She dropped and slid on her right side behind the rock formation in the ravine.

Greyson dropped beside her, then rolled on the ground, wincing at the movement across his wound. He anchored his rifle on one of the rocks and set up the shot.

“What kind of range do you have on that?” she asked as he sighted in.

“Up to three hundred yards with the long-range scope.”

More than enough.

They lay flat, waiting....

The men headed to the Rover. Kevin spewed out something, but they were too far away to hear. Both men strode the length of the parking lot, checking other cars.

“We remain still until they’re gone,” Greyson whispered.

The chill of the ground seeped up through her clothes, spreading through her bones.

Keeping her breath even, she lay as still as Greyson.

Kevin gestured the other guy over to the mesa.

“Here we go,” Greyson said, his eye fastened to the scope.

Kevin and the man spread out with flashlights, the beams dancing over the snow and ice.

“Very still,” Grey said so low under his breath, she nearly didn’t hear him.

She pressed deeper into the frigid ground, hoping her teeth didn’t chatter.

The light swept over the ground fifty feet in front of them.

She clutched the SIG Greyson had given her, ready to fire if the men attacked.

Crunch. Crunch. Snap.

The snow and twigs sounded under Kevin’s feet. He walked closer. Twenty-five feet .

She prayed the brush, rocks, and ravine covered them. She fixed her aim on Kevin’s center of mass.

“Anything?” the other man hollered.

Kevin stopped fifteen feet from them. “Nah. This is a goose chase. Let’s head to the office and track them the right way.”

“Roger that,” the other man said.

The two turned and strode back for the center.

Relief whooshed out of Riley, her taut frame easing.

Greyson held until the two men disappeared through the gate.

“Let’s go.” He got to his feet, slid his rifle over his arm, and pulled out his compass. “Four clicks ahead is a rock formation. Hard to see it on a night so dark, but it’s there. Once we reach it, we cross over the dry riverbed and head northwest, straight for the res.”

She held her phone out. Zero signal.

“We’re in no-man’s-land,” he said.

“It worked at the retreat.”

“They must have a cell booster. But not out here.”

“What do you think Kevin meant by tracking the right way?” she asked as they headed out into the wilderness.

“I’m guessing they mean checking the monitors to see if they missed finding us somewhere on the property. Hopefully they won’t think to play back the recording to watch us head this way.”

“I hope not, but I doubt it.” She cringed. “Where are we headed?”

“To my friend Phillip’s on the reservation.”

“How far is that?”

“Depending on our pace, I’d say roughly ten hours. We should hit it about sunup.”

“You think the men will try and track us on foot?”

“I think they’ll be tracking the roads, but we need to keep moving at a good clip just in case. They seem determined to find us.”