CHAPTER 29
“Get down!”Micah shouted.
He dove sideways, dropping behind the thick trunk of an oak tree, his hand already on his weapon.
Caleb hit the ground, rolling behind a fallen log. Wyatt dropped into a crouch behind a cluster of saplings, his arm reaching out to grab Thunder’s collar and pull the dog close.
Hamilton was already pressed flat against the ground beside Caleb, ears pinned back.
Another shot rang out.
This one hit a tree fifteen feet to Micah’s right, bark exploding with a sharp crack.
Micah’s pulse hammered in his ears, but his hands stayed steady. He pressed his back against the oak and scanned the woods ahead, trying to pinpoint the direction of the shots.
North. Maybe northwest. Somewhere deeper in the trees.
“Everyone okay?” he called out, his voice low and controlled.
Caleb and Wyatt confirmed they were fine.
The woods went silent again.
No movement. No sound. Just the faint rustle of wind through branches and the distant call of a crow.
Micah’s mind raced.
Two shots. Both close. One had come within feet of hitting him.
This wasn't a hunter who'd wandered too close. This wasn’t a stray bullet from someone target shooting on their own property.
This was deliberate. Someone had been waiting.
And they’d known exactly where Micah and the others would be.
His hand moved toward his radio, then stilled. Calling out meant noise, and noise meant giving away their position to whoever was still in those trees.
He needed thirty seconds of silence first.
Naomi opened her mouth to respond to Millie’s question—to say something, anything, that would make sense of what she was feeling about Micah—but the words tangled in her throat.
She wasn’t sure she had an answer.
“I don’t know,” Naomi finally said. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
Millie nodded, her expression softening further. “I get it.”
Before she could say anything else, a sharp crack split the air outside.
A gunshot.
The sound was distant but unmistakable.
Good Boy’s head snapped up from where he’d been lying by the window. He scrambled to his feet and barked, the sound sharp and urgent.
Naomi’s breath caught.
Millie sat up straight, her face draining of color. “Was that?—?”
