Ezekiel Lesterfield wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, and that bothered him. They’d been following what he was certain was Sarah’s trail, expecting to find and capture her in short order.
Then they’d heard the scream and spotted lights through the trees up ahead. They weren’t alone. More intruders were invading their territory – most likely a group of unwary campers. He doubted it was a search party. They’d have called it quits before it got dark. Besides, from the look of things, it was too few people and too haphazard.
No matter the case, they wouldn’t be allowed to leave. Not if there was a chance that Sarah could get to them, too.
He’d sent a few of the boys ahead to scout out these trespassers and deal with them if the opportunity presented itself. Any females would be kept, added to their flock. The rest, well, their bodies would never be found.
It was a distraction from hunting Sarah, but a necessary one.
Then he heard the gunshot. They all did. The thing was, it hadn’t come from the intruders up ahead but from somewhere south of their location. For a moment, he feared they’d somehow walked into a trap in their own backyard, but how was that even possible?
The only explanation that made sense was Sarah. She’d seen these newcomers, too, but rather than run to them, she’d set an ambush.
That thought chilled Ezekiel to his bones. It bespoke of a cold-bloodedness he would never have expected from her. But perhaps he should have. She had, after all, already murdered two of his kin this night. One was luck, easy enough to dismiss. Two was desperation. But three? Those weren’t the actions of some two-bit bikini hussy from the TV. Sarah was acting like a killer, one who knew what she was doing.
Ezekiel began to wonder whether it was all worth it. No matter how badly Noah wanted her, she might be too much trouble. At the very least, they’d need to hobble her arms and legs, make sure the rest of her days were spent as a cripple. He couldn’t recall ever having to do that before with another of the clan’s wives. Noah almost certainly wouldn’t be pleased, but that was his cross to bear.
Though he was unsure how to handle this latest development, he also knew inaction wasn’t an option, not with the others following his lead. Whatever happened, he couldn’t let the intruders ahead of them escape. There was no doubt they’d heard the gunshot, too. If they had a lick of sense between them, they’d be turning tail and running as fast as they could back the way they’d come.
Ezekiel quickly and quietly rallied the clan members still near him. He sent half of them up ahead – no waiting, no caution – to hit these trespassers hard and with finality.
The rest he sent after Sarah. Let them flush her out and deal with her as they would. If they killed her, then that would be on them, not him.
Within moments, he found himself standing alone. Though he knew these woods well, he wasn’t used to the feeling of being watched. Knowing that Sarah was out there somewhere, armed and with no qualms about fighting back, frightened him.
Ezekiel was neither the bravest nor strongest of the Lesterfield clan. Fear wasn’t unknown to him. But from a woman?
He pulled his revolver from his side, backed up against the trunk of a nearby white cedar, and crouched down low so as to not present an easy target. The only thing to do now was wait.
Let the others take care of this. He was their new leader and as such wasn’t about to put himself at undue risk.
♦ ♦ ♦
Danni twisted the knife in Jonathan Lesterfield’s back. She knew it was unnecessary. The movements he made were all involuntary, the last twitches of his nerves as they shut down. But she did it again anyway, unwilling to give this monster any quarter or leave any doubt that he was dead.
He’d spun toward her as she’d come up from behind, but the same mud which had given away her position proved to be his undoing. He had lost his footing on the slick muck. It was for the barest of instants, but more than enough for her to strike.
Danni had been on him before he’d even hit the ground. Oddly, he made no sound, gave no protest, as she’d plunged the knife into his body, again and again, his struggles quickly turning into nothing more than a death rattle.
All she could picture was Francis’s face and how this bastard had tried to defile his body – as if what they’d done to him hadn’t been bad enough.
She pulled the knife out and prepared to bring it down once more, just to be safe, when she heard the gunshot.
Spooked as Danni already was, she immediately threw herself into the space between the two bodies. Several seconds later, she slowly lifted her head, certain it would be blown off, but no more gunfire came.
Were the Lesterfields shooting at shadows? Or had they found whoever had been screaming earlier?
She didn’t dare to hope that someone was out there looking for her, but that hope bloomed nevertheless. It was a dangerous thought at a time like this, bringing with it the potential to make her do something stupid.
It was also possible that it was all little more than a trap by the Lesterfields, something to draw her out while they waited to ambush her. If so, it wasn’t going to work. The only way she was going to get out of this was if she kept her wits about her, and that meant playing this game by her rules.
But that didn’t mean she wasn’t still scared out of her mind. Though knowing it was pointless and overkill, she turned over Jonathan Lesterfield’s corpse, preparing to drive the Ka-Bar through his throat if he so much as twitched.
There came no movement, though. His oversized, misshapen eye stared sightlessly up at the stars, that odd glow gone from it – no more threatening than a doll’s eye.
Danni rooted through his pockets but found nothing of use except a few spare bullets. His gun looked to be slightly newer than the one she’d taken from Nathanial, but it was now completely caked with muck. She had neither the time nor inclination to clean it out. However, it was foolish to leave it for his family to find. She sunk the old rifle in the bog, then rolled Jonathan’s body into the thick, muddy water. Rotting in a marsh was better than he deserved, so far as she was concerned.
There were now three less of this accursed clan to terrorize these woods, but in taking Jonathan down, she realized she’d most likely used up all the protection this location offered her. If they came back looking for their missing member, there was enough evidence left for an experienced woodsman to piece together what had happened.
She needed to get moving again.
The Lesterfields were ahead of her now, so the smart thing would have been to head back to the compound to free Sophie and anyone else held prisoner. Yet the thought of returning there alone, of being caught and caged again, terrified her to the point of inaction.
Much as Danni hated herself for it, Sophie would have to wait.
The rest of these bastards had their backs to her now. It was a mistake they’d regret.
Another shot rang out in the distance, different in pitch to the last. A pistol, maybe?
Mere moments later, the silence of the forest was shattered with the sound of gunfire. Multiple shots rang out, all seeming to come from different directions.
It was an impossible dream, but the more Danni listened, the more she became convinced that there was a gunfight going on. She wasn’t alone out there after all. Even if they weren’t specifically searching for her, they couldn’t be worse than the devil she knew.
The problem was the Lesterfields still held home field advantage. She needed to reach whoever was out there before it was all over, because she had a sinking sensation about which side would eventually prevail otherwise.