The kid looked him straight in the eye. “She’s gone, and I don’t think she’s coming back. She’s going to make Uncle John and Aunt Shelby pay for murdering my dad. They’re bad people.”
Cam’s blood ran cold. Lissa shot him a look, heartbreak in her gaze. These poor children.
The group walked down the long driveway to the vehicles together, stowing their belongings into the two remaining UVs. He wrapped Lissa in his arms, breathing her in, wishing this could already be over. After this, he would resign from the Watch. All he wanted was a quiet life at home with Lissa. He wasn’t suited for violence.
“Don’t do anything stupid and rash,” she whispered.
He smoothed her hair and kissed her. “I love you.” He held her gaze, making sure she absorbed his words.
“I love you, too,” she said. “See you later.”
A lump grew in his throat. His Lissa was worth coming home to, but he had to see this mission through. If they could save Amanda and kill John Slains, it would be a good day’s work.
Lissa squeezed him tight and then let him go. Her voice grew brisk. “Okay, Daisy, you ride up front with me. You’re in charge of the map. Rod, I don’t have a booster seat, but make sure you fasten your seatbelt. You’re my spotter. You let me know if you see anyone outside.” Her eyes looked worried, but she sounded confident. She gave Cam a final look, and they piled into the vehicle Dave had driven yesterday morning.
“I’ll meet you at xTerra as soon as we can.” Cam watched as she drove to the road and headed out. Once they were underway, he and Dave headed for Bill in the hail-dented SUV he’d driven yesterday. He packed the extra battery. They should have enough charge for there and back to xTerra, but it would be tight.
They drove for two hours, winding around on back roads and farmers’ access through fields, making their way toward Bill, Wyoming. Once they’d gone as close as he dared, they parked on a quiet gravel road behind a row of thick bushes. He changed the battery before they hiked toward the Slains’ stronghold. They expected trouble and guards at every step but found none. Either John Slains had called his men in, or he was wildly overconfident at home. Or it was a trap.
Once Cam and Dave had the walled compound in sight, they circled it from several hundred yards out, searching for a proper observation post. Dave set up atop a hill with a multitude of low junipers, assembling his rifle and making a stable rest. He lay on the ground at the high point, focused beyond the wall on the front entrance of the house. At this distance, they’d need Slains to be outside to get a positive ID before shooting. At least after yesterday, they’d recognize him.
Cam returned to being the lookout, making his first examination of the Slains’ stronghold. The walls below weren’t solid or imposing like those at xTerra. Made of a hodgepodge of rusted sheets of roofing metal and industrial siding, they made a visible barrier separating the Slains’ compound from the rest of the countryside. They wouldn’t keep out an angry horde.
Beyond the Slains’ walls, Cam studied a prosperous-looking white farmhouse with three floors, a long single-story bunkhouse, and several small cabins. It matched the description provided by Kory.
This early in the day, the sun wasn’t at full strength, and Cam was already sweating. He shifted, releasing the juniper scent into the air. He kept his binoculars trained on the front door of the main house most of the time, scanning their immediate area every couple of minutes. Birdsong continued around them, chirps and trills filling the air with sound. He planned to pay attention so they could help watch. If the birds became silent, that would be a clue that their position could be threatened.
The sun rose higher as the day passed. There wasn’t much activity below. Cam scanned the fence line, inside and out, searching for Amanda. No sign. They hadn’t found her vehicle either, but she could have parked and hiked the rest of the way on foot. Or, she could have been intercepted. He had confidence that if Amanda thought she’d get inside the walls without trouble, she would. From the appearance of the quiet house this morning, it remained undisturbed.
It was almost noon, the blistering sun beating down from above, when someone inside the house screamed. “Fire!”
Another, more feminine, scream joined them. The front door flew open, and pandemonium broke loose. People streamed out of the bunkhouse and cabins as the inhabitants took up the call. Without firetrucks and hoses, the house was sure to burn to the ground.
Thick gray smoke spiraled from three separate areas, including the main house on both sides, spreading rapidly. Probably Amanda’s work. Over three dozen men scrambled for buckets of water. Three women poured onto the front porch, herding eight or nine children. A pregnant blonde woman held a toddler on her hip while holding a young boy with her other hand. John Slains followed.
Before leaving the porch, he wrapped one arm around the blonde, the other holding a shotgun. He scanned the area, turning one way, then the other, searching for threats. Cam held his breath, hoping Slains wouldn’t detect a reflection from the scope or binoculars.
Moving down the stairs and into the yard, John Slains stayed behind the women. After yesterday’s near miss, he must suspect the fires were deliberate and designed to draw him into the open. Amanda had been smart. He couldn’t stay inside with his house on fire. Still, hiding behind children was a cowardly act.
Cam breathed a sigh of relief as the occupants trooped further into the yard together. The house might be a loss, but he didn’t want the children’s deaths on his hands. He was sure that had been Amanda’s plan, given how everyone had evacuated.
“A little to the left,” muttered Dave. “I’m not shooting women and children.”
“He hasn’t seen us, so take your time,” said Cam. The key would be patience. “We might not get another shot. Make it count.”
Inside, near the gate, Cam finally spotted Amanda, crouched behind a barrel. Amidst the chaos, John surrounded himself with children and headed for the gate. He must plan to get his wife and kids into a jeep and escape.
When he was only a dozen feet from the gate, Amanda jumped from her hiding place, a gun pointed at her brother. He swung his wife in front of him, ripping the kids from hergrasp and shoving the youngest into another woman’s arms. The youngest’s wails were loud enough to carry above the firefighting efforts.
Amanda hesitated, perhaps not wanting to shoot anyone other than her brother.
John Slains didn’t waste a moment. He dropped his sister with a shot to the head, the sound ringing through the air. Amanda crumpled, dead before she hit the ground. Just like her husband.
Cam felt sick.
With a pop, Dave absorbed the kick of his shot, the smell of gunpowder strong.
A silence fell across the compound, and everything except the roaring fire seemed to freeze.
