Before anyone could say more, another explosion hit. This one came from the opposite side of the bridge, directly across from the first. The ground trembled again.
“Fuck this shit,” Gary shouted and bolted toward the trees.
“Damn it,” Harlan growled, already turning to chase him.
He had taken only two steps when gunfire cracked through the air.
Hell. First explosions and now shots. Yeah, this was definitely an ambush, and someone was being thorough.
Brenna dove for cover, dragging Naomi with her. Harlan dropped down and scrambled behind a scraggly oak. Colt spun toward the sound, rifle up, scanning the tree line. But he still didn’t see anyone.
Naomi let out a strangled cry and tried to run, scrambling to her feet like she could somehow outrun the gunfire.
“No,” Brenna snapped, grabbing her arm and yanking her back down behind the concrete barrier.
Naomi struggled, but Brenna held tight.
“Check her for weapons,” Colt ordered, crouched low with his rifle braced against his shoulder. “Now.”
Brenna didn’t argue. She shoved Naomi onto her side and patted her down quickly but thoroughly. Colt kept his eyes trained on the tree line, watching for muzzle flashes. The shots were wild, out of control, and coming from more than one direction.
“She’s clean,” Brenna called over the gunfire, keeping her body low. “No gun, no knife. Just a phone.”
Naomi whimpered, curling in on herself. Colt didn’t relax.
“Keep your eyes on her anyway,” he said. “If she’s behind this, she could still be signaling someone.”
More bullets slammed into the metal railing behind them, sparking as they ricocheted off.
“Who the hell is shooting at us?” Brenna hissed.
Colt narrowed his eyes at the thick stand of trees across the bridge. “Someone who knows how to herd targets.”
And right now, they were the targets.
“Any sign of Gary?” Colt shouted toward the SUV, his voice sharp over the echo of gunfire.
“No,” Harlan called back. “He disappeared.”
Colt gritted his teeth, tracking the direction Gary had gone. His pulse was still hammering, every nerve on alert. Damn it. Was Gary behind this? Or was he being played just like the rest of them?
Then he saw it. A thin stream of smoke rising from the woods to the left of the bridge. It wasn’t thick or fast-moving. More like the steady curl of a campfire. Too contained for a brush blaze.
Shit. There might not be a shooter after all. But that didn’t mean they weren’t in danger.
“Look at the smoke,” Colt called out to Brenna and Harlan. “Over there, past the second tree line.”
Brenna followed his line of sight. “I see it.”
“That’s not from a weapon being fired,” Colt said. “That’s from a fire. I think someone threw loose rounds into it.”
“Cooked off ammo,” Brenna supplied.
Colt gave a tight nod, eyes still on the thin thread of smoke. The shots would stop eventually. Once all the rounds were spent and the fire had finished its work, the chaos would fade. No one was aiming at them. Not at the moment anyway.
They just had to wait it out. Hope none of those stray bullets found a target. That included Wallace, if he was still out here. And if he was truly a victim.
Colt wasn’t sure anymore.
