Wyatt saw his opening. He swung his leg and kicked Flint’s gun.
The Glock spun out of Flint’s grip, flew through the air, and disappeared into the snow.
Flint gaped as he realized what had happened and lunged toward the gun.
In an instant, Thunder was there. His body was low, and a growl rolled out of him. As the canine showed his teeth, Flint stopped in his tracks.
“Easy, boy,” Flint muttered, his eyes wide as he stared at Thunder. “Easy.”
Wyatt grabbed the gun from the ground and pointed it at Flint. He didn’t take his eyes off the scene as he ordered, “Everyone in the truck. Now.”
The group hurried toward the truck.
The ride with everyone would be tight. Too tight, really. But there was no other option.
Billie, Herb, and Pete piled into the back seat. Thunder jumped in with them.
Then Kori slid into the middle front seat and Mackenzie climbed in beside her.
The doors slammed shut.
As they did, Wyatt continued to watch Flint.
Wyatt had to figure out what to do with the man. Leaving him out here wasn’t an option . . . plus, he couldn’t stand the thought of the man getting away with this.
Then he made a decision, one he hoped he didn’t regret.
