AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Dark. Black or navy. Lightweight.”
“Penny left wearing a navy fleece jacket.”
“Yep.”
“And if she ducked out of sight, then she’s not lost.” I pause. “Unless she isn’t sure whether we’re friend or foe.”
“Yep.”
“I’d like to check it out.”
“I know.”
I give him a look. “You know and agree? Or you know and disagree?”
“I agree that if we don’t, you’ll be up all night worrying that we found poor lost Penny and abandoned her to her fate… even if I’m damn sure that any reasonable person, lost in the woods for three days, is going to take that chance. And Penny seems like the definition of a reasonable person.”
I sigh. “She does.”
“But you still want to be sure.”
“Please.”
Storm makes our life better in so many ways. Makes our job easier, too. This, however, is one of those times when having ahundred-and-twenty-pound Newfoundland does not help. We need to sneak through the forest. We don’t dare split up. And we sure as hell aren’t leaving the dog behind. To minimize the noise, Dalton walks thirty feet ahead, motioning back to me when he can hear the dog tromping through the undergrowth, and I shift her to a barer or greener walking path.
Finally, we’re close enough to the ridge that we slow to a creep as we listen for signs of whoever is out there. Someone is. Even I catch a twig crackle and then the scuffle of a misplaced boot quickly corrected. That tells us where to go.
I’m guiding Storm over a particularly noisy part when I catch Dalton’s frantic wave. I think he’s motioning for us to stay where we are, but when I grab Storm’s collar, he shakes his head and points. There, up on the ridge, maybe twenty feet away from Dalton, someone stands against a tree. They have their back to it, and that seems intentional. They’ve seen or heard us, and they’re trying to hide.
Dalton beckons for me to catch up. I do, and then he bends to my ear.
“I’m circling around. Cover me.”
I nod and take out my gun. He heads off through the thick trees. The person stays where they are. I’m closer now, but they’re actually harder to distinguish from this angle, being too far above me. I back up a few steps, and that gives me what I presume was Dalton’s line of sight. I can only make out the figure and the dark jacket, with a hood pulled up.
I bend beside Storm, petting her as I try that vantage point. It’s better, and I can see blue jeans. It’s still too hard to determine a physical size or shape, with that tree marring the person’s outline.
I’m trying to work out a better angle when the person raises their arms. Arms that seem ridiculously long and—
A rifle. The person is raising a rifle, pointed in Dalton’s direction.
I whistle. It’s the only thing I can think to do short of shouting. Even as I hear the sound, I realize how foreign it sounds in these woods, how obviously human. That gun swings in my direction and fires.
I dive over Storm. I knock her to the ground and cover her, my gun raised as I look up the ridge. A crashing to my left. Far too loud a crashing to be Dalton, I think at first. Then, as the rifle barrel swings that way, I know that’s exactly who it is. Dalton making as much noise as he can, diverting fire away from us.
The person fires again, and I stifle a cry. If I make any noise, I’ll drown out the sounds I do not want to hear—the thud of Dalton falling to the ground, the scream or gasp of pain.
None of those come.
As the woods stay silent, I wrap my hand around Storm’s collar and very slowly lead her to the left. When the shooter swings the gun our way, I freeze, but the shot hits back where we’d been, exploding a tree branch.
I turn to keep leading Storm. Then I see Dalton making his way in our direction. When he arrives, he motions me down, and we crouch behind a pair of trees.
The figure on the ridge moves the gun in a slow arc. Another shot, well to the right of us.
“Suppose youstillwant a closer look,” Dalton whispers in my ear.
I nod.
