Page 54 of Hard Rain

“Could’ve been. Deer tend to be quieter than you, though.”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who fell through Granger’s deer blind.”

Whip eased the curtain back another inch.

Beyond the small grassy clearing, the tree line stood quiet beneath the steady rain. No movement.

“The ladder broke.”

“You screamed.”

“I did not.”

“Three counties heard you.”

“That was tactical communication.”

“Is that what that was?” Axel snorted.

“My story,” he murmured as he moved to the door.

His hand settled on the latch.

“You ready?”

Axel took up position on his flank.

“Yup.”

Whip eased the door open and cold air drifted inside.

He didn’t wait. He stepped out, and Axel followed.

The cabin’s warmth disappeared the second he stepped outside as Oregon wasted no time reminding him why he preferred summer.

Keeping low, he launched across the small clearing with Axel on his six.

The forest closed in around him. Towering evergreens left only patches of sky overhead. Everything dripped, and the thick carpet of needles, leaves, and mulch muted his and Axel’s footsteps.

Good country to disappear in.

Axel drifted right.

Whip angled left, but kept Axel within sight. Wet brush dragged against his jeans.

The branch had snapped somewhere nearby—at least it had sounded nearby.

Sometimes an echo was deceiving.

The only thing moving was the runoff rushing downhill beyond the trees. No deer. No muddy tracks. Just forest.

The forest could hide a lot of things, and today it wasn’t giving any of them up.

Sunlight broke through the clouds and speared between the trees. Typical Oregon. One minute trying to drown you. The next pretending none of it happened.

His dad called it the apology.

They combed through the area, expanded their search, and then circled back to the cabin.