Holston spins around and nearly trips before racing up the road in a half crouch.
“You’re going to need to delay them for a few minutes,” Gunn says, eyeing me again. “I need some time to get into position. Shouldn’t take long. Think you can do that?”
“Yes,” I say, even though I have no clue how I will.
“Good. Now listen. If you see anything going sideways. If they look like they’re going to hurt your wife, rub the back of your neck and I’ll try to take them out. But Grant, if that happens, you need to get to her and then find cover. You cannot hesitate. I probably won’t be able to tag them both, at least not right away.”
“Got it.” He doesn’t need to say it. I won’t hesitate. Not when it comes to Avery. “What about a gun? Should I take one?”
He shakes his head. “No. We don’t want them to have any reason to view you as a threat. Don’t worry. I’ll be watching.” He checks his watch. “Okay, you gotta go.” He leans into the car and places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “You’ve got this.”
An unexpected wave of gratitude rolls over me. The man doesn’thave to be doing this. He’s potentially putting his career—and his life—on the line. All to help me save Avery.
“Thank you,” I say. “I owe you one.”
His eyes soften. “No, you don’t. I’ve got a wife and kids of my own. If I were in your shoes, I’d want someone to do the same thing.” A hint of a smile plays over his lips. “But I will let you buy me a beer afterward.”
I issue a single, nervous laugh. “Deal.”
“Now go,” he says. And then he’s gone, hustling away with the rifle and vanishing into the trees.
I put the Yukon into gear and drive. Gravel crunches beneath the tires. A soft breeze drifts through the window as I grip the steering wheel and climb the road. When I pass Holston, he gives me a single nod. He doesn’t look nearly as frightened as I feel, seems almost excited in a way, like he’s looking forward to this. Something about his posture reminds me of a wolf stalking its prey—head low, weight shifted forward. He’s probably been waiting for a moment like this where he thinks he can make his mark when in reality it could easily get him killed.
Don’t be a hero, kid,I think.
I crest the hill and he slips from my mind, swallowed by the view. To the left of the road lies a vast open pit. Cliffs like teeth jut skyward from a table of unnaturally blue water far below. Piles of stone surround it along with mounds of gravel. The pit is so massive it looks like God himself reached down and tore free an immense scoop of earth. Skirting higher to the right of the road, I spot the clearing Gunn mentioned—a huge, flat patch of dirt overlooking the quarry. A charred fire ring sits at the center, surrounded by several rusted folding chairs. Beyond that, further back, there’s nothing but trees.
And no van.Where is the van?
I accelerate and descend the road, then ease into the clearing and stop. Streamers of dust float past the windshield. I stare at the clock.It’s 2:30 sharp and I’m the only one here. There’s no one else.
Anywhere.
What the fuck?
My pulse clicks higher. I push open the door and step outside to the smell of chalk and minerals, the wet must of earth. An empty beer can crunches beneath my shoe, and I kick it away. The quarry looks even deeper this close, the vertical walls of granite scarred by decades of machinery harvesting rock. I turn my attention to the trees—a dense thicket of cottonwood, pine, and aspen—and then spin a three-sixty and search for movement, for anything at all.
There’s nothing. Just the trees and the quarry with the mountains rising beyond. I return my gaze to the road I traversed—the only way in or out. Isn’t that what Gunn told me? That there was no other way to access this place? Which means they should already be here, just like Gunn said. The lock on the gate was cut. So why aren’t they?
The answer hits like a bat to the face.Shit.They must have spotted us arriving, saw Gunn and Holston get out of the car with their weapons drawn. They saw and they fled. But that doesn’t make sense, either. Again, only one way in or out, so we would have seen them leaving. And we didn’t.
Goddammit. My head feels like it’s full of smoke. I don’t know what’s happening. All I know is that coming up here with cops was a mistake. That has to be why the abductors aren’t here. Ithasto be. Nothing else makes sense.
Which means I fucked up.
Which means Avery might already be dead.
I’m ready to crawl out of my skin, about to hop back into the car and round up Gunn and Holston when I hear the sound. Thesamesound I first heard this morning at the trail. The intermittent chug of an engine. It’s soft at first, a rattle in the distance.
The van.
But it isn’t coming from the road I descended. It’s coming fromthe opposite direction a ways back from the clearing. It’s hard to tell through the bright afternoon sun, but I can barely see the vehicle edging past a second bank of trees I didn’t notice until now, planted farther back beyond an old equipment shed at the end of the quarry.
The van draws closer, rising and falling until it reaches the clearing and comes to a stop on the far side. I cup my hand to my forehead in an attempt to ward off the sun. Like before, it’s hard to see much through the tinted windshield, but I can just make out the outline of the driver through glass.
Where is she?I think.Where’s Avery? Is she safe?
The side door slides open with a loudthwack!and a masked man gets out.Theman. The same guy who assaulted me earlier. The one who grabbed Avery. I can see it in the way he stands with his arms crossed and his shoulders squared. I can feel it in the heat of his gaze. A bolt of fury runs through me. I ball my hands into fists and take a step forward, but he raises two fingers and wags them side to side while shaking his head. Then he turns and leans into the van.
