CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Brooke ducked, her war zone reflexes kicking in like she’d never left Kabul. Asher yanked her into the tree line. “Run!” The yell sent her stumbling after him, expecting to feel a bullet between her shoulders at any moment. Hand clasped in his, she held on, ignoring the throbbing in her head and back. Another bullet pinged off the tree beside her, and Asher made a sharp turn to the left.
Brooke stayed with him, but while she often used the punching bag in her basement to fight the memories and build her strength back up, she didn’t go running. Simply because she hated it. It didn’t take her long to grow winded. She pushed on anyway.
Finally, when she couldn’t take another step, she yanked her hand from his and dropped to the wooded ground, dragging in oxygen with each gasping pull of her lungs.
Asher skidded to a halt and spun to hurry back and kneel in front of her. “You okay?”
“No, I’m not okay,” she snapped and pressed a hand to her head.
He didn’t seem to take offense at her shortness, he simply watched behind them. She sucked in another shuddering breath and stood. The ache in her side matched the one in her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He took three steps back toward the direction they’d just come from.
“I don’t see them,” he said, “but we need to call for help. Do you have your phone?”
“No, I dropped it on impact.”
“Great.” He rubbed a hand over his face.
“You don’t have yours either?”
“No. I spotted it just as they started shooting. I figured it was better to run than to try to grab it.”
“Well, that’s just fabulous.” She sighed. “I guess Sarah was right. Someone is after me. But . . . why?”
“We’ll have to figure that out later. For now, we need to get somewhere safe and find a phone.”
“Is this one of those easier-said-than-done kinds of things?”
“Probably.” He pulled her up next to him. “How’s your head?”
“It aches.”
“Your vision?”
“Fine. The hit to my head stunned me, but it wasn’t a horrible hit. The window didn’t break.” She pushed his hand away. “Where are we?”
“I’m not exactly sure, but I think the exit sign said there was a gas station not too far away.”
“Won’t that be the first place they check for us?”
“I’d say it’s highly likely.”
“Okay. Then why are we going there?”
“We’re not. You’re going to stay safely hidden while I try to see if I can get a look at them.”
She frowned. “Oh.”
“I’ll admit it’s not the best plan I’ve ever come up with, but I’m willing to bet they’ve got someone watching the vehicle in case we decide to go back to it, so that’s out.”
Okay then. Since that had been her next suggestion, she snapped her mouth shut.
Another shot cracked through the afternoon air, and Asher grabbed her hand and pulled her after him. With her adrenaline surging anew, Brooke’s feet flew over the uneven ground. “Thought you said they would head to the gas station,” she gasped in between breaths.
“Guess I was wrong.”
A small clearing loomed in front of them. A cabin sat at the edge of a pond with a short dock. A canoe was tied to the last post and rocked on the gently rippling water. “What do we do now?”
“Hide.”
“Where?”
To the left of the cabin, a red barn with white trim beckoned. “There.” He led the way to the whitewashed fence and helped her duck under. “Run to the barn,” he said.
“What are you doing?”
“Sending them in another direction, I hope. Now go.”
She took off for the barn, and he headed for the pond with the canoe. Once she reached the door, Brooke turned to see him untie the canoe and give it a shove. Then he hurried down the dock and ran full out to join her at the barn, barely winded.
She would have needed an oxygen tank.
“We need to get in there,” he said.
Shoving the observation aside, she led the way around the perimeter of the barn until she reached a side door. She twisted the knob. “It’s open. I can’t believe it.”
“Hurry,” he said, looking back over his shoulder. He held the door for her and she slipped inside, rubbing her arms against the chill.
The long-sleeved fleece was perfect for the forty-degree weather, but as soon as the sun went down, she’d want her heavy coat that she’d left on the back seat of Asher’s truck. And the gloves in the pockets.
The smell of fresh hay and animals greeted her as her eyes scanned the interior. She walked to the nearest stall and rubbed the velvety nose of the curious horse who’d come to investigate the intruders in his home. He nudged her palm and she looked back at Asher. “You don’t think they’ll start searching here when they realize they’ve lost us?”
“Maybe, but a lot of these barns have an office and sometimes an office has a phone. I didn’t want to go up to the main house unless it was absolutely necessary. I don’t want to draw attention to any innocent people.”
“I understand. Good idea.” She strode to the end of the barn and found a door with a padlock. “I think this is it. Can you break it?”
Asher pulled an ax off the far wall. “I think this will do the trick.” Brooke moved back, and he took her spot, lifted the ax, and in one swing, sliced through the door just above the lock.
“Um . . . you missed.”
He shot her a dark look. “This isn’t as easy as it looks in the movies.” He tightened his grip and lifted the ax once more.
She glanced at the door they’d entered, praying no one chose this moment to come feed the horses.
Another downward swing caught the lock and it popped off to hit the dirt floor with a soft thud.
“Good job,” she whispered. She pushed the door open and glanced inside. The room ran the length of the barn with shelves full of items to take care of business on a horse farm. “It’s the office all right. And tack room and feed room too, but I don’t see a phone. Does anyone even have a landline anymore?”
“Sometimes when there’s not a good cell signal. Keep looking.”
She went to the desk she spotted under the window that faced the house. No phone, just a base for a cordless handset. She shoved aside papers, a broken bridle, two horseshoes, a computer mouse, and more. “I don’t see a phone.” She turned to see what he was doing and a flash of movement outside the window caught her eye. A black van turned into the driveway. “Asher? I think we’ve got trouble.”
Asher joined her at the window. “Oh great.”
The van doors opened and two male figures climbed out of the front of the vehicle. They were too far away for Asher to get a good look at their faces, but something about them sparked recognition. Binoculars would have been nice. Instead, he squinted and tried to get a good look. The driver walked around to the back of the house that faced the barn, giving Asher a good look at his back.
Brooke turned and began searching the desk. “Oh, thank you, Jesus,” she breathed. He turned for a quick look. She held a phone in her shaky right hand. “It was in the top drawer. Dumb place for it when the base is right there on the desk,” she muttered.
“Is it charged? Does it work?” he asked.
“Getting ready to find out.” She shut the drawer where she’d found the handset, and three seconds later he heard her speaking to a 911 dispatcher. “I’m not sure of the addre—oh, wait a second, I found an invoice. Red Farm Road. 210. Hurry, please.”
Asher kept his attention on the two men. The one at the back had rapped on the door several times and no one had answered. Asher could only pray that meant no one was home. The other man shifted his coat, revealing a weapon tucked into his belt. Asher guessed the bulge at the man’s ankle meant he had a backup.
For a moment, Asher watched them, weapon in his hand. His world shifted.
Dressed in combat gear, he approached the second house on the left. They’d received intel that the woman was a Taliban supporter and was hiding weapons in her basement. Asher gripped the weapon and, as quietly as possible, sidled up to the rear window. A quick glance inside—
“Asher! Asher!”
Brooke’s harsh whisper brought him back. He shook his head. “Yeah. What?”
“I don’t think the canoe fooled them. They’re heading this way.” She gripped his forearm and pulled him out the door of the office. “They’re going to come in here and see the broken lock and know. What do we do?”
His mind clicked away from the past, and horror washed over him. His forays into the past . . . his hesitation . . . could get her killed. Chilled, he swallowed a surge of nausea and gripped her hand, centering his thoughts on just keeping her safe. “Come on.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I locked the door when we came in. We’ll have to keep an eye on them while we figure out what to do.” He hurried to the door and flipped the dead bolt off.
“I think you’re crazy, but now what?”
“I’m working on a plan. Up into the loft.”
She frowned and glanced at the door but moved quickly and clambered up the ladder. He followed and pulled the ladder up after him. “Watch the door,” he said. “When it opens, I’ll need to know if one or both come in.”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer, simply hurried to the end of the loft, bringing the ladder with him. He pushed aside hay bales and stacked them, glancing at the door as he worked. Once he was finished, he made his way to the window at the top of the stack. Putting muscle behind it, he hefted it open—and turned to find Brooke at his side.
“When they walked across the yard,” she whispered, “they were together. I don’t know if they’ll both come in, but at least one’s going to be inside any second.”
“All right, these hay bales are hiding the window and us from whoever walks through that door. If they both come in, we’ll bust a move. If only one comes in, that’s going to be a bit trickier.” If one stayed on the outside, he’d be much more likely to notice the ladder—or hear them going down it.
Brooke peered around the bales. “Nothing yet.”
Heart thudding, Asher carefully maneuvered the ladder out the window and onto the shingles of the roof over the main double doors of the barn. He turned to Brooke and motioned for her to follow him just as the door below squeaked open.
Asher stepped out onto the roof and held a hand back for Brooke. She hesitated, peering around the bales. Two seconds ticked past, feeling like five minutes for him, but she finally held up two fingers. He offered his hand once more. She took it and ducked out to stand beside him. He slowly closed the window, releasing a low breath when it slid shut without much noise. “It won’t take them long to realize we were there and now we’re not,” he said. “I’m going to lower this ladder and we’re going to climb down, okay?”
She nodded, dark fear in her eyes, as she stayed next to the window, back against the wall. Asher gripped the heavy wooden ladder and lowered it over the side to lean it up against the wall of the barn next to the roof’s overhang. He hoped it would be harder to spot than if he’d placed it against the roof itself. “The first step is a doozy, so I’m going to have to lower you,” he told her. “You ready?”
“I’m ready to get away from these guys.”
“I hear you.”
Brooke gripped his hands and swung her feet over the edge. He held her tight and lowered her to the top rung. When she tugged, he released her hands and down she went. Asher quickly followed, breathing a sigh of relief the moment his feet touched the ground.
“Can we steal their van?” she asked as they ducked under the pasture fence. Several horses grazed nearby.
He hesitated a fraction. It wasn’t a bad idea, but . . . “If he has the keys, we’d be out of luck and I don’t want to take the time to find out.”
“How do you feel about horses?”
“Love them, why?”
“We’re going to use them as cover. Grab part of the mane and walk on the far side of the horse, away from the barn.” It was the best he could do in order to keep them from being completely exposed as they crossed the pasture.
Brooke moved to the first horse, hand outstretched as though she planned to feed one of them an invisible apple. The horse, a paint, lifted its head and let her approach. He gave her empty hand a snuffle, then shook his head in reproach. “Sorry, buddy,” she said softly. “I guess that was kind of sneaky and mean, wasn’t it? If I had an apple, I’d give it to you, I promise.” Her soothing voice calmed the animal, and he let her scratch under his mane.
Another horse decided he needed his share of attention and approached. Asher curled his fingers around the halter of the second one and turned to Brooke. “Let’s do this.”
“Asher, look. They’re outside the barn.”
He glanced back and saw the two men in the yard once again, looking toward the main house and pointing. “Keep walking,” he said. “Keep the horse between you and them. Slow and steady.” She was already doing that, but it made him feel better to say it. Like he actually had control over something.
A shout caught his attention and he looked back once more. The two men raced toward the pasture, weapons raised.