79

Hurley was nearly at the cabin when the cavalry arrived, three Flathead County deputies in souped-up Dodge Durango off-road vehicles, lights blazing, men piling out with rifles drawn, faces flushed with excitement and pent-up adrenaline.

Hurley stuck to the forest at the back of his property. Circled the cabin, watching the men as they secured the clearing, as a couple of them entered the cabin.

It was time to leave. It was time to set out from this place and get far, far away. Whether the FBI found the girl or not, Hurley knew he was made. This was what manhunts looked like before they got off the ground. This was a goddamn situation.

He kept calm. Pushed the anger down in his gut, the frustration that flashed when he thought of the girl in the forest, the three cops behind her. Two of them women, as if it weren’t bad enough already.

He chased the thought from his mind. Stole away through the trees until he’d found his hand-hewn road, followed it along the ridgeline, moving fast through the snow, ignoring the chaos behind him.

Night fell as he walked, had fallen completely by the time he arrived at his snowmobile, the forest dark and silent this far from the cabin. Hurley started the engine, tensed as it rumbled to life, fearing the law would hear it and know immediately where he’d gone.

But the forest remained mute. No lawmen appeared to challenge Hurley. He straddled the machine and drove farther into the mountain range, the road narrowing now, progress slow.

Then he reached the end of the road, a wall of trees where he’d been forced to halt his efforts at the end of the summer season. Hurley killed the engine, strapped on his snowshoes again. He kept survival gear in a cargo box on the back of the machine, spare rations and fresh water, a bivouac sack and a lightweight subzero sleeping bag, a compact shovel to dig into the snow for shelter. He kept spare ammunition for the rifle, too, and a pair of night-vision goggles he’d found at the military surplus store in Kalispell.

Hurley abandoned the snowmobile. Double-checked his supplies, shouldered his rifle, and adjusted his goggles. He set off into the dense woods beyond his crude road and didn’t look back.