But Finley was with him this time.
And that changed everything.
The motor—which sounded to him like it belonged to an ATV—neared. The vehicle’s headlights were off. Only someone who wanted to keep their presence secret for as long as possible would drive without them at this time of night.
He muscled past the fear threatening to immobilize him and led Finley to the side, cutting a path into the woods. Silently, he cursed the dark. Had they been able to see, they could have run. As it was, they had to balance speed with the need to move carefully over roots, bushes, rocks.
“Our stuff,” she whispered to him, so quietly he could barely make out the words.
“Leave it.”
“The gold.”
“Leave it.”
“I don’t want it to fall into ... the wrong hands.”
“And I don’t care about anything except you.”
The ATV came to a stop, engine idling.
All at once, illumination brightened the area. Luke darted a look back. The ATV had a mounted light bar.
He tried to draw Finley behind the cover of a huge tree to shield them from view. Before he could, the beam of brightness turned, catching them in its crosshairs. The ATV’s engine revved as it drove toward them.
The driver had seen them.
Horror shot through his limbs.
He and Finley plunged ahead. She tripped, but he was holding her hand and didn’t let her fall.
The vehicle gained. Gained. Easily, it outran them. Dirt spewed as it fishtailed to a stop in front of them. Three men sat inside a four-seater Polaris all-terrain vehicle. They wore night-hunting gear and black ski masks with holes at their eyes and mouths. They carried semi-automatic AR-15s.
No. His breath rasped.No, God.
He’d worried about the danger Ed had predicted. But he’d never imagined they’d be so outnumbered and outgunned. Desperate, he changed direction, guiding Finley downhill.
“I wouldn’t do that,” one of the men warned in a deep voice. The sound that came next—the metallic noise of a rifle charging in preparation to fire—was worse than a nightmare.
If he and Finley continued to flee, they’d be shot. But if they stopped, they’d be at the mercy of the men.
Finley made the decision for him, coming to a halt.
Still holding her hand, Luke positioned himself between her and them.
The men, similar in height and size, closed in on Luke slowly. Their boots crunched the earth.
“What do you want?” Luke asked.
“I think you know what we want,” the one in the middle answered. The others kept their weapons fixed on Luke. They stopped ten yards away. “Take us to it, and neither of you will get hurt.”
“What assurance do I have of that?”
“None. With or without your help, we’ll find what we’re looking for. We sure would appreciate your cooperation, though.”
They’d be more likely to let Finley go if they got what they wanted—the chance to collect the bars at their own pace and get away without showing their faces. “We’ll take you to it,” Luke said.
“Good choice.”
