“C’mon over.”
Within a minute, not one but two men appeared, each coming from a different direction.
They’d planned the approach. Jack understood now that the machine idling at the tree line had been the distraction, giving the first man time to come in behind him on foot while the other two held their positions and waited.
He’d walked right into it. They’d communicated by radio and knew exactly where he was and how to trap him.
“On your knees,” Rick said.
Jack went to his knees in the snow. The cold quickly bit through his insulated pants.
One of the men circled around to his left, rifle at the ready, his eyes moving between Jack and the trees behind him, a smirk on his face. He was the man who had been most insistent there was someone in the woods. He’d convinced the other guy, Rick, to use the searchlight. That choice had set off the entire chain of events that led to this moment.
Jack knew this guy could be trouble.
“Where’s your partner?” he asked, a slow drawl to his tone.
Jack shook his head. “What do you mean?”
He lifted the muzzle of his rifle. “The person you are out here with.”
Rick lifted his hand, signaling the man to stand down as he kept his eyes on Jack. “My friend asked, where’s your partner?” The words came in a monotone.
“I’m alone.”
The man with the slow drawl looked at him for a long moment, without any reaction at all.
“You’re not alone,” Rick said.
“Maybe he is.” The third guy spoke for the first time. Jack spared him a glance. He was younger than the others. At the camp, he’d been intent on getting the skinning done.
Jack caught his expression clearly, even in the dark. He’d seen that look before, on athletes who’d pushed past what they’d actually prepared for. The face of a man whohad signed up for something specific and was only now understanding what else it included.
“Oh, yeah?” Slow Drawl said. “You wanna explain why there are two sets of tracks?” He took a step closer to Jack. “Two.”
“That was me,” Jack said with a nod. “I circled back to break the trail. To make it harder to follow.”
Slow Drawl looked at him. “Circled back.” His voice went flat in a different way than Rick’s monotone. Not controlled. Contemptuous. “One person made side-by-side tracks? Don’t make much sense.”
“Maybe it does,” The Kid said, bobbing his head. “If he was trying to confuse us.”
Slow Drawl snapped his head toward The Kid. “Zip it.”
The Kid raised his hands and took a step back.
“So, you’re alone?” Rick asked, tilting his head to the side.
“Alone. Yep,” Jack agreed.
Slow Drawl crossed the snow in three strides and hit Jack across the face with his open hand. Hard. Jack’s head snapped right, and he tasted blood where his cheek had caught his teeth.
“C’mon, man,” The Kid said. “There’s no need for that.”
“I shot at two people,” Slow Drawl said. “Two. They were running across the open, and I know what I saw. Tell us where your partner is, and we’ll go easy on you.”
Jack met his eyes, his mouth still stinging. “I’ve been out here alone all night.”
Slow Drawl hit him again. Same hand, same side. Jack’s ear rang, and the cold night air felt sharp against the welt already rising along his cheekbone. He kept his handswhere they were and didn’t give the man the satisfaction of looking away.
