Wes heardthe sound of quiet movement behind them.
Footsteps pounded over packed dirt.
A branch scraped against an unknown visitor.
Whoever was back there wasn’t trying to catch them fast. The distance stayed almost the same no matter how Wes changed pace or direction.
That meant they weren’t being chased.
They were being pushed. But pushed to where?
A cold knot tightened low in his stomach. Wes angled left through the trees, keeping Rowan close behind him. Twigs snapped beneath their feet as they hurried downhill through the dark.
He wished he knew this area better. That he knew these mountains.
But he didn’t. That meant he needed to be even more careful. The ground could disappear beneath them at any moment. He had to watch his steps.
His life wasn’t the only one depending on each choice he made.
His pulse stayed steady, but every muscle felt pulled tight.
Remington walked beside him, silent and alert. Wes trusted the dog more than his own eyes right now.
Another sound behind them.
It was closer this time.
Rowan heard it too. She sucked in a breath.
He reached back toward her, and his hand slipped into hers. It was purely logistical. They needed to stay together.
Still, it felt good.
Wes picked up speed.
The trees began thinning ahead, the ground flattening beneath his boots. If he remembered correctly from the drive here, somewhere nearby the fire road cut through the woods.
Maybe Sheriff Sutherland could meet them there.
Wes pulled Rowan behind a rocky outcropping and paused for a moment. He grabbed his phone and sent a quick text.
Fire road off 614. Come that way.
The reply came two seconds later.
On it.
Wes shoved the phone back into his pocket.
Just then, a single step crunched softly over dead leaves.
The sound was too close.
Rowan’s fingers tightened on his.
Wes listened.
One second. Two. Three.
