He flashed the light again. The response was another shot. Jack crouched down.
“Okay, okay. I can take a hint,” he said softly. “Can you?”
The engine revved. The light on the snow machine bounced up and down. Jack held his breath while he tried to determine exactly what the driver was doing—continuing on toward Steph, or taking the bait?
“Yes!” Jack pumped his arm as the light disappeared from view. The machine was backing up. Bait taken.
Now the challenging part. He needed to make sure the driver had a good enough idea of where Jack was to think he had a chance of finding him, and yet Jack needed to evade him. He intended to keep Steph safe, but he didn’t intend to get himself captured—or killed—in the process.
Jack wasn’t sure exactly how long it would take the driver to maneuver out of the gulley and up onto the flat. Depending on the sidewalls, he might not need to go to the mouth but could climb out if it wasn’t too steep or there was a washout area.
He surveyed the open space between the forest and the trees lining the gulley. It wasn’t very wide, maybe thirty feet. The trees on the other side appeared to be packed fairly tight. He couldn’t see through them, suggesting a decent patch of forest.
Best to get across now while it’s clear.Easy enough to wait for him in the tree cover.
The snow was uneven, wind-packed in places and soft in others, and he adjusted his stride as the surface changed under him.
He was halfway across when an engine roared. Not from the area he expected, where he’d seen the headlight moments before. From the other direction—one of the other machines. Either the one that had driven up the gulley from the south was now out and on the flats, or it was the third one that had been circling. Either way, two machines after him were double the trouble. A second thought settled over him:If they are after you, they aren’t after Steph.
The first snowmobile crossed the open ground at a speed that closed the distance fast.
Jack put his head down and ran. A rifle cracked. He cut right. Another shot. A hard cut left without breaking stride.
Too close. The shots were too close.
He ran. The trees were near now. Behind him, the machine gained, the engine climbing as the operator drove it hard across the packed snow. Another shot cracked. Jack drove his legs faster, pulling more out of them than they had left.
The man was shooting from a moving machine. At a moving target. At a distance. Jack reminded himself of this because it was the thing that kept him alive. The variables were stacked against a clean shot. Keep moving, keep cutting, make the angle change.
He was also aware that the variables narrowed as the distance did. The engine sound was closer than it had been. He didn’t look. Looking would cost him stride, and he needed every stride he had.
Jack reached the tree line as bark exploded from a pine tree next to him. He dove into the trees, hitting the ground hard, rolling and coming back up on his feet. The engine sound changed. The trees were too tight here for the machine to follow. The operator would have to go around. Neither option was a problem Jack was upset about.
He kept moving until he was deep in cover. He checked the pistol, controlled his breathing, then looked at the timber around him and the lanes between the trunks, where sections were darker than others, where he might find a place to hide.
Now what?That was the question. An even bigger question was, what about Steph? Was she safe? Did she find her own hiding spot? He prayed she had.
Chapter 25
Steph
The beacon screen glowed brighter than it should have. Steph hunched over it, trying to dim the glow as she typed with stiff fingers, fumbling several times before she got the message right.Send help now. She hit transmit and waited.
The narrow branch of the gulley had dropped deeper as it went north, the walls climbing over her head until she was standing in a channel of rock, tree roots, and frozen earth, the bottom relatively clear of snow. Whatever wind scoured the open ground above didn’t reach here.
It was dim and smelled of dirt. Roots jutted from the packed earth at intervals, thick ones near the bottom and thinner ones up high, where the trees began at the rim.
The beacon buzzed.
She angled the screen toward the sky.
Message received.
They would be there soon. She had to believe that. And they’d come in prepared and take the proper precautions. Steph fought back tears. She just hoped it really would be soon. Jack was drawing three snowmobiles and three rifles away from her and buying her time.
But how much time? And was he safe?
Okay. Think.
