Eric was well aware that he could be rash and overly temperamental, but he didn’t consider himself a stupid man.
A part of him still refused to believe there was a family of monsters out in these woods, monsters who thought like men. The problem with that theory was the dead body lying at their feet.
“Boss?” Sullivan asked from beside him, his sidearm out and ready.
Eric briefly considered the rifle slung over his back, liberated from Jenner’s SUV. He knew it was more powerful, especially out here where there was no shortage of obstructions, but he was a lot more familiar with his 9mm semi-automatic. Knew it like the back of his hand. It was quick, reliable, and fast to reload. In a shit situation, like the one rapidly headed their way, he'd sooner rely on it than risk fucking things up while he fumbled with a rifle sight.
It was possibly just Hopper and Muellenberg returning. But whatever was approaching their position sounded like more than two men.
Eric drew his pistol and fired a shot into the air. “Only warning you’re going to get,” he cried out. “Stand down!”
His voice was steady, belying the fact that he was afraid, something that almost never happened in his day to day job. The urban jungle was his territory, not this shit. All at once, it hit home what a bad idea it had been to come out here.
Silence descended upon the forest immediately following his warning. The movement around them ceased and all became still. For a moment, he thought perhaps he’d been successful. But then, when no acknowledgement of surrender was announced from the surrounding brush, he realized it was the exact opposite.
In firing a warning shot, he’d told whoever was out there exactly where he was.
Shit!
Eric grabbed Sullivan and dragged him to the ground a mere moment before the forest around them erupted in thunder and the smell of spent gunpowder.
♦ ♦ ♦
It sounded like all hell had broken loose up ahead. Unfortunately, Derek didn’t give Zeist’s team much chance of winning. They were badly outnumbered and trying to fight a war in the Jersey Devil’s backyard, of all places.
Fuck me sideways.
Much as he wanted to go and help them, though, tough decisions needed to be made. By saving one of Zeist’s men, he’d alerted them to the danger, given them a fighting chance. How they used it was up to them now.
Finding Arthur before he could get too far off base was their top priority, especially once they’d found his radio lying on the ground.
Derek felt a hand tap his shoulder. He stopped and turned, hoping he wouldn’t see a face from a nightmare staring back at him.
“Let me take the lead,” Mitchell said.
“I’m…”
“You’re wheezing so loud I can practically hear it over the shit storm going on out there. Need I remind you that if you drop dead the network is unlikely to renew my contract?”
Derek let out a quick snort of laughter that quickly turned into a cough. Damnit! Mitch was right. He should be sidelined, not running around out here. He prided himself on being the best leader that he could be, but one of the tenets of good leadership was knowing when to let someone else take the reins for a while.
After a moment, he simply nodded.
“Good,” Mitchell replied. “Show me what we’re dealing with.”
Derek flashed his light down at the ground directly in front of him. There were footprints plainly visible in the dirt. Mitchell was the weakest tracker on the team, but Arthur had left a clear trail.
“Could follow this with my eyes closed.”
Derek clapped him on the shoulder. “Looks like the kid got curious, then got turned around. Easy mistake to make.”
“Easy if this was a hiking trip,” Mitchell said. “Stupid when we’re out here…”
“Um, guys,” Julia warned.
Both men stopped, realizing there was a commotion up ahead, and it was coming their way.
Derek leveled his rifle, trying to force himself to remain calm. It was probably just Arthur backtracking, he told himself. Even if it wasn’t, he couldn’t afford to lose his cool. He...
A figure broke from the bushes ahead of them. Whoever it was, it definitely wasn’t Arthur. Derek’s finger tightened on the trigger, but then Mitchell grabbed the barrel of his gun and forced it down before he could fire.
The medic’s light came up, illuminating the newcomer – neither Arthur nor one of the Lesterfields.
Despite convincing himself his head was in the game, Derek realized he’d almost shot the man. Unfortunately for them, the newcomer was apparently of the same mindset.
He raised his sidearm in a panic, before Julia cried out, “Do it and die!” from immediately behind them. She stepped up, gun at the ready.
The man, dressed in a suit jacket and tie of all things, was quick to lower his weapon. “Don’t shoot, please.”
Derek realized he looked familiar. “You with Zeist?”
A look of relief flashed across the man’s face. He composed himself and nodded. “Is that you, Jenner?”
“In the flesh.”
“Um, you and your men are under arrest for...”
“Are you sure I can’t shoot this asshole?” Julia interrupted.
More shots were fired from somewhere up ahead and the man flinched.
“I’m going to assume you’re smart enough to realize that’s not us,” Mitchell said once the barrage subsided.
“I don’t know what the fuck is going on out here.”
“Well, I’d say you have a choice,” Derek replied. “You can head back out and see for yourself, or you can drop the shit and stick with us.”
The newcomer blinked a few times, then holstered his weapon.
“Good choice. So what do we call you?”
“Oh, sorry. Kyle, Kyle Muellenberg.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Kyle,” Derek said. “Now kindly do as you’re told and maybe we’ll all have a shot of getting out of this alive.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Arthur didn’t really know what he was doing, but heading away from the gunfire sounded like a smart idea.
That wasn’t what he’d signed up for. He was here to rescue Danni, not get into a gunfight he couldn’t win against foes he couldn’t even see. Hell, knowing his luck, he’d end up getting shot by the very people he was trying to find again.
Arthur didn’t consider himself a coward. He wouldn’t have come to begin with if that had been the case. He was a realist, though, and the reality was he was almost certainly the least qualified person out in the woods this night.
However, that didn’t mean he hadn’t been paying attention. He remembered everything Derek and Mitchell had told him and, while it didn’t even remotely make him a woodsman, it would hopefully keep him alive.
Case in point, he stopped as his light illuminated something in front of him. He removed the headlamp and held it out to get a better look, spying a circle of leaves on the ground – a little too perfectly shaped. Arthur followed its outline and caught a glimpse of the wire that made up the snare trap.
Close one.
He stepped over it, being careful to watch for more.
That was the ticket. Be smart, keep his eyes open, and try not to do anything stupid ... or anything else stupid.
The gunfire petered off, which either meant one side had won or they were all reloading. It seemed to be coming from off to his right, so he turned left. Derek had been certain the Lesterfields had a home or compound out here somewhere. If there were traps scattered on the ground, then it seemed logical such a place couldn’t be too far off.
He decided to pick a direction and search for it. At least that way he’d be doing his part.
If he found it then ... well, he wasn’t sure. Losing his radio was possibly the stupidest thing he could have done. He still had his phone, but it wasn’t worth dick out here. If he found the compound, he’d need to figure out a way to mark it, then make his way back until such time as he got a signal. It seemed as good of a plan as he was likely to come up with.
Arthur spotted a break in the trees up ahead. A moment later, he stepped into a clearing, thankful to have found a momentary reprieve from the oppressive closeness of the forest.
He almost jumped out of his skin when a voice called out, “Noah, that you, boy?”
Noah?
A tall figure stepped from around a tree.
Arthur flashed his light at the man and, for a moment, was relieved that it was apparently just some hiker or camper who was unlucky enough to ... but then he took note of the man’s face in the red glow of his lamp – the bent nose, the heavy brow, the strange shape of his jaw – and his heart leapt into his throat.
He’d found one of the Lesterfields. Surprise shone in the other man’s eyes for a moment then, much to Arthur’s horror, he started to raise the pistol in his hand.
“Don’t,” Arthur warned. He brought his own gun up to bear, dropping the headlamp in the process. That was okay. He could still see the man, and he needed both hands on his weapon to hold it steady.
“There’s no need for that, son,” the man said in a smooth voice. “We’re just two strangers out here enjoying the woods on a fine evening.”
“Y-you have Danni.”
“I don’t know any Danni and, as you can see, I’m all alone.”
Arthur did his best to keep his voice steady as he concentrated on what Mitchell had showed him about the shotgun. He steadied it against his shoulder and aimed at the man’s center mass. “Don’t bullshit me. You’re one of them, the Lesterfields. Dr. Jenner told me all about you.”
The man’s eyes opened wide in both surprise and recognition. That alone cemented his guilt in Arthur’s book. “You’re going to take me to her, or I swear to God I’m going to...”
“That won’t be necessary,” the man replied. He held his gun out in front of him and dropped it to the ground. “I think you’re confused, son, but I’m not the type to agitate a situation.”
“I’m not your son,” Arthur said, the steel in his voice real this time. This bastard was definitely one of them. He’d recognized Dr. Jenner’s name. That meant he knew where the others were. “Come over here, nice and slow. I want you to pick up my light.”
The man stepped forward slowly, his hands raised. “Happy to oblige.” He bent at the knees and lowered his hands toward the red light shining up from the grass.
“Okay, now you’re going to...”
A wheezing breath came from somewhere off to the left, heavy and wet as if someone with a bad cold had just stepped near.
Arthur turned his head toward it at the wrong moment, just as Ezekiel Lesterfield charged at him.
♦ ♦ ♦
Noah was sorely tempted to let the trespasser take Ezekiel. Would serve the cowardly fool right. The others were somewhere up ahead and here his uncle was, trying to stay safe while the rest of the family got their hands dirty.
He wasn’t fit to lead the clan. His pa would never have done something like that.
But Ezekiel was still family, and they’d already lost two that night. If the intruders up ahead were armed, it was possible they’d lose more. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when so much tragedy had befallen his kin in a single day. There hadn’t been anything like this since the days of his ancestors.
It needed to end now.
But that still didn’t mean he was going to do his uncle’s work for him.
He might not be fit to lead, but maybe he’d prove he was fit to live.
Noah closed in on the trespasser’s location – a mere boy from the look of things, perhaps not much older than Noah himself. None of that mattered to him. He didn’t care to make friends with outsiders. He’d learned that lesson at an early age, remembered the horror in his own mother’s eyes ... at least before she’d managed to displease Pa once too many times.
He made his presence known, ready to act if this boy turned out to be more adept than his shaking form seemed to indicate.
Much to his amazement, Ezekiel didn’t hesitate, throwing himself at the trespasser before he could recover and pull the trigger.
Maybe he did deserve to live after all, but that was in his and God’s hands now.
Noah took a deep breath, turned, and walked away as his uncle fought for his life.
Sarah was still out there somewhere, and there was nothing more important than finding her.