Page 163 of Peaks and Promises

The ground rose and we came to a stand of trees. Not far ahead was another fence, and just beyond it, a dilapidated barn.

We hurried over the fence and across the open space to the back wall and looked inside. Missing boards and a half-collapsed roof let in daylight. The ground was covered with patchy grass and withered weeds, but other than a few rusty shards of metal and a pile of old tires, it was empty. There wasn’t even a place to hide.

Summer shuddered. “This place looks like spider heaven.”

“No point in going in. Nothing in there.” I checked the map again. “This looks like another barn, or maybe a shop. Not sure what that is. A toolshed, maybe? That’s probably the house.”

“That’s probably water.” She pointed to a winding band of blue.

“Which could mean trees for cover. We’ll go that way.”

We hurried across the dry grass to where the ground sloped downward again. Sure enough, a swath of green cut across the brown landscape.

Trees grew along the banks of a small creek, and the grass on either side was tall and lush. Keeping to the shadows, we followed the water until we could see a group of buildings a short distance away.

A large pole barn was set back from the driveway with an aboveground water tank nearby. Rows of solar panels faced south and chickens roamed around, scratching in the dirt. The smaller building looked like a shed. Another outbuilding was farther away, beyond the house, but unlike the barn we’d passed, it looked intact.

The single-wide mobile home had a sagging back porch and was surrounded by prickly shrubs that had probably once been an attempt at landscaping. Random debris littered the area—everything from buckets to rotten fence posts to rusty car parts—and a large stack of firewood sat behind the house. The front of an old tractor peeked out from the other side of the pole barn, and from where we stood, a dark green pickup truck was visible out front.

No other cars, but that didn’t mean Axel and Nate weren’t there.

The roar of bike engines carried through the air. I grabbed Summer’s hand, and we darted for the house. A chicken squawked as we ran by, flapping its wings to get out of our way. We ducked behind the house right as the first motorcycle came up the driveway.

The sound grew as the others caught up. One by one, they parked and turned off their engines.

Moving to the corner of the house, we peeked around the building. There were six of them. Five remained seated on their bikes while the one who’d arrived first swung his leg over and took a few steps forward. He seemed to be the one in charge.

“That’s Hammer,” Summer whispered.

I recognized him. One of the assholes who’d caused trouble for her in Arizona. My jaw tightened as I ground my teeth together. I would have loved to get my hands on that guy.

But that wasn’t what I was there to do.

“You Sam Fogel?” Hammer asked.

A gravelly voice replied. “Who’s asking?”

“I am.”

“And who the fuck are you?”

“Your worst nightmare if you keep asking questions.” Hammer shifted his vest so the man could see his gun. “Are you Sam?”

“Yeah. What of it?”

“Where’s Axel?” Hammer asked.

“Who?”

“Don’t play stupid, old man. We know he’s here. Tell us where he is, and no one gets hurt.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I leaned close to Summer. “He’s lying. I can hear it.”

“Where do you think they are?” she whispered. “In the house?”

“One way to find out.” I pulled out my phone to make sure it was on vibrate. “Stay here. Keep listening and text me if it sounds like anyone is coming inside.”