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“Just Mike? No last name, like Cher? Although Cher was really Cher Bono first, I suppose.”
“Bryant. Mike...Bryant.”
I drew up short, nearly making us both topple over again, then quickly righted us with an apology before hiking forward again.
“Well, nice to meet you Mike Bryant,” I said, yanking and pulling bushes and branches out of our way. “I’m Callista McEwan.”
“P-pleasure.”
“Heard that one before. How far to this cabin of yours?”
“Mile...or so.”
“God.”
We tramped up rises and down ravines, over fallen logs and around trees and rocks and scratching brambles, all the while keeping a wary eye out for those unknown shooters still out there somewhere.
Between Bryant’s deadly bullet wound and blood loss and my badly sprained left ankle and aching head wound from the cave rocks that still blurred my vision and made me see stars, it was a slow, clumsy, grueling hike through the dense forest. All the while, I couldn’t help glancing at the man, comparing his face with that of the museum photo of the famous Michael Bryant, Indian Protector.
The physical similarity was a weird enough coincidence, of course, but for both men to have the same name, too? What were the odds?
“Who were those guys back there anyhow?” I asked, huffing now with every step.
“Hunters,” Bryant rasped.
“Early for deer season, isn’t it?” At the man’s drawn brows at me, I explained, “Joke.”
He made an annoyed grunt. Guess ruggedly attractive looks and a sense of humor didn’t necessarily go hand-in-hand.
“Arcan...Hunters,” Bryant further explained.
I drew up short, nearly pulling the man down on top of me. Again.
“Sorry,” I said, steadying us and limping forward. “It’s just that I learned about Arcan Hunters for the first time today.”
He grunted.
I nodded. “Yeah. My friend, Maggie Thunders, told me about them. She’s with the local Snoqualmie tribe? Anyhow, she said that Arcan Hunters were some very dangerous dudes, once upon a time. Guess they still are.”
Bryant grimaced in agreement.
“That’s weird though,” I added, nervously rambling, “because she said that the organization had died out or dissolved or something decades ago. Did she say that? Maybe not, I don’t remember. I’m a little freaked out by all of this, you know?”
So maybe the paramedics shouldn’t be my first telephone call when we reached this cabin of his. I needed to contact the police to zip up here and hunt down those wacko serial killers.
Dang, Hilarity DeVine. Next vacation I was going to Miami.
Halting, Bryant hissed and dropped to his knees as another agonizing wave hit him. I let him work through the pain only a few seconds, before I tugged him back up on his feet to keep moving. The further we got away from those Arcan sickos, the better.
Just as we crossed a rushing creek, we halted and looked at each other, hearing voices echo through the trees.
“Their tracks lead this-a-way!” was suddenly called from the distant right.
“Dang it, they found us,” I whispered.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Why I hadn’t thought to cover our tracks as we hiked?
