Page 14 of Hollow Trace

Below, the ravine carved through the mountains like a muddy scar, a dirt road weaving along the bottom, the trail slightly lighter than the surrounding forest. Scout raised her rifle, peered through the scope as Quinn knelt beside her, looking through his own scope.

Scout blew out a rough breath. “I’ve got movement. Multiple heat signatures. Impossible to identify anyone specific.”

Quinn nodded, following the group as they crested the worst part of the Chute’s terrain, then continued along the valley floor. “Damn, they’re moving fast. And they’re scaling obstacles like they’re not even there.”

“That doesn’t… wait. Do you hear that?”

Quinn looked over at her, wondering what she was talking about when a growl echoed up the ravine a moment before lights bored through the dark, brightening the sky before an ATV barreled over the rise, closing in on the people running along the gravel road.

He switched back to his regular lens, adjusting the scope until the headlights from the machine cast the runners in sharp relief. Several men and a few women glanced behind them, picking up the pace as the four-wheeler gained some speed.

Scout cursed. “I’ve got four mercs riding that ATV, all heavily armed with advanced tactical gear. What looks like frags on their vests.”

Quinn nodded, scanning each runner until he stopped on a familiar profile. He paused, following the woman until she turned, dispelled any doubt. “I’ve got her. Brea’s down there. Third from the front.”

Scout shifted closer, scope pressed to her eye. “I see her. I’ll radio Neve and Coulter… shit. Something’s wrong with the lead guy.”

Quinn panned ahead, focusing on the athletic male who’d been leading the charge. Dressed in track pants and a hoodie, the guy looked like the other man they’d found in the mud. He slowed, clutching his chest before collapsing on the ground, shaking violently as froth foamed from his mouth.

Brea stopped at the man’s side, looking as if she was trying to administer first aid when the ATV pulled up behind him, one of the men jumping out. He didn’t rush, just walked up to the guy, retrieved his sidearm and shot the downed runner in the head.

Scout jumped, the report echoing up the ravine and across the ridge. “Jesus.”

Quinn zeroed in on the bastard, keeping Brea in his peripheral vision. “Damn it, Brea, get out of there.”

Brea raised her hand to her mouth, falling onto her ass when the mercenary pointed the gun at her, started shouting, his words lost to the distance.

That was all Quinn needed to see before he slid his finger inside the trigger guard, placed the asshole’s head in his crosshairs. Scout called his name, but he was too wired, too determined to save his sister before the guy shot her, too.

A breath, then his finger compressing the trigger. The shot cracked through the air, the soldier’s head snapping sideways a moment before he dropped, legs twitching for a second before the entire ridge went still.

No crickets.

No bats.

Even the rain seemed to pause, the droplets hanging in the air, waiting, until the world rushed back as the other men turned, automatic fire shredding the surrounding brush, their muzzle flashes lighting up the night.

CHAPTER FIVE

Gunfire snapped through the air, chewing through the rock and mud in front of them, spraying shrapnel-like stone chips across Scout’s face. The scent of crushed pine and moss saturated the air, a hint of cordite weaving up the incline.

Scout tapped her comms unit, but all she got was a blast of static and a few choppy words. Neve, she thought, though she couldn’t be sure.

Quinn fired again, targeting the men in the ATV, seemingly oblivious to the rounds whizzing past his head, one looking as if it punched a hole right through his vest. Scout pushed to her feet, grabbed the handle on the back of his vest and physically yanked him back from the precipice a moment before the first couple feet sloughed off, tumbling down the steep embankment as more bullets chipped away at the next layer.

He stumbled, barely getting his feet underneath him as she dragged him behind a large stump, shoving him against the rough bark. “Jesus, Scout, what the…”

She didn’t talk, just ran her hands up and down his vest, then along his arms, looking for any hits. Finding a long groove across his ribs didn’t help ease her worries. Not when she knew he’d be challenging the men again.

Her pulse pounded in her head, the fear she usually shoved into a box cracking open. “Christ, I thought…”

She thought she’d just watched him take a fatal round.

His scowl softened. “It was just a graze. The vest held.”

“For now. If you keep getting hit...” She cursed as more gunfire filled the night. “We’ll flank right, get a better sightline, just…”

She didn’t finish. Couldn’t. Not when she knew she would have fired if he hadn’t. That no amount of stealth overshadowed saving Brea’s life.