Just the rasp of their breathing and the crunch of old leaves beneath their boots.
Delaney was starting to wonder if they were already too far behind when she heard it.
Movement. Ahead. Quick and sharp. A snap of twigs.
She froze.
Eli stopped too, one hand lifted in a silent signal.
They listened. Another sound. A soft shuffle.A grunt. Then silence again.
Delaney inched forward, breath held, every nerve in her body taut. The trees ahead thinned just enough to show movement. A figure slipped between the trunks, fast and low.
She caught a flash of black clothing, the glint of a rifle barrel. Then he turned.
Gun raised.
“Down!” Eli shouted.
The first shot cracked through the woods. Bark exploded from a tree inches from Delaney’s head as she dropped low, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Another shot. Then another.
She hit the ground and rolled behind a fallen log, gripping her weapon tight, trying to steady her hands. The echo of gunfire rang through the woods, scattering birds into the air above.
Eli had taken cover behind a rock outcropping to her right, already returning fire in short, controlled bursts.
Delaney moved on instinct, crawling low to a better position behind a thick cedar. She peered around the trunk, caught another glimpse of the man in black moving to the left, flanking.
He was good. Fast. Tactical.
But not invisible.
She raised her weapon, squeezed off two rounds. He ducked. Moved again.
More gunfire. A sharp zing of a bullet clipped through a branch near her shoulder.
“Right flank,” Eli called. “He’s circling.”
Delaney moved. Quick and low. She pushed between two thick bushes and came out behind a cluster of rocks. Her boots skidded over loose dirt, but she caught herself, weapon still steady.
The man was cutting across the ridge now, trying to outdistance them. Not happening. Delaney took aim and fired. Missed, but close.
He turned, raised his rifle again, and sent another volley of bullets through the trees. One snapped past her cheek. The air seemed to burn as it passed.
She dropped to her knee behind a tree, breath ragged.
“We have to cut him off,” she said.
Eli’s voice came through the trees. “Push him east. Toward the creek.”
Delaney nodded even though he couldn’t see her. She moved again, fast, weaving through the brush. The gunman was fast too, but he wasn’t disappearing.
He was leading them somewhere.
And that was starting to worry her more than the bullets.
Delaney pushed through a thicket of underbrush, heart hammering, sweat prickling under her vest despite the morning chill. The gunman was still ahead, just out of reach, darting between the trees like he knew the terrain. She kept low, focused, watching for his next move.
