The first belonged to an older woman, taken out by what appeared to be a single bullet to the chest. Her right hand still firmly gripped the shotgun next to her, and Ben had to twist it back and forth a couple of times to pry it loose. The gun was a basic over-under breach-load 20-gauge shotgun with a shortened barrel, and when Ben checked it, he saw that both chambers were loaded. It was another weapon they could use, and Ben handed it to Joel to carry back to Allie. He knew she could handle it, and the sooner everyone on their team was armed again, the better he would feel about their situation.
The next body was that of the older guard who’d antagonized Ben from the start and tried to get the better of him. Joel had shot him in the neck. Maybe one of his double-tap volleys, judging by the amount of matter missing from the guard’s throat and the puddle of blood he was lying in. Ben hated to admit it, but the sight of the dead guard gave him some satisfaction, and so did taking his weapon. It was another AR-15. This time, Ben took the whole gun rather than just the magazine.
“Give this one to Sandy after you show her the basics.” Ben hated to load his son up like this and impair his ability to shoot, but both guns had slings, and he needed Joel to get back to the others while he looked for the wounded moonshiner.
“Where are you going?” Joel asked.
“I’m gonna meet you at the cars, but I’m going this way. You said you hit someone who ran that way?” Ben pointed to the nearest container house, which was the first in a row of several.
“I know I hit him at least once, but he made it around the corner before I could get another shot off.” Joel looked upset with himself over the fact that he’d let one of the moonshiners slip away.
“Don’t worry about it. I got it covered. Get back to the others and get them ready. I’ll be there in a minute.” Joel nodded, and Ben started to move out but stopped. “Hey, tell them we’re almost there now.”
Joel smiled and nodded again before continuing back to the others. Ben hoped that information would boost the kids’ morale, especially Emma’s. Between the explosion and the gunfire, no doubt they would be nervous wrecks. He wished he could go with Joel and tell them everything would be all right, but he needed to take care of this loose end first.
It didn’t take long to find the trail of blood from the one who got away. The steady drippings and distant fire made a reflective trail through the leaves, and Ben had no trouble following it.
As he gingerly stepped on the dry ground and tried to be as quiet as possible, he couldn’t help but think of the mule deer hunt he and Joel had done two years ago. They found a nice buck on their second day out, but it was a long shot across a canyon, and Joel pulled his shot just outside the vitals. They tracked that animal for the rest of the day and into the night before finally finding it tangled up and dead in a thicket of scrub oak. It ended up being an unforgettable hunt and an overall great adventure.
Their current situation was not a great adventure and just as unforgettable, only not in a good way. Here he was, following another blood trail at night on a mountain range far from home. There’d be no prize mulie at the end of this trail, but there would be an animal, the worst kind.
Chapter Eleven
The trail led Ben toward the houses, but he continued past the entrance of the first dwelling he came to. The container had a regular-looking door cut into the broad side and a little stoop made out of half-cut logs. There was a small window not too far from the door, and he could see the faint glimmer of a candle or some other kind of dim light.
He was careful to stay low as he crept under the window and followed the blood trail. They’d have to go through each and every one of these places before they could be sure they were safe here. Not that he intended on sticking around this place any longer than necessary, but it was going to take some time and effort to regroup after all this. And he didn’t want to be constantly looking over his shoulder while they repacked the trucks. He still would, of course, but they needed to make it as safe as possible.
Ben stopped and had to take a high step over a partially torn-open bag of trash, its contents spilling onto the ground. From the looks of the place and the shoddy work done on the containers, he was surprised they’d bothered to put their trash in a bag at all. To avoid the scattered rubbish, he took extra caution traversing the next couple of steps and finally reached the end of the first container. He stopped there for a moment and listened as he studied the blood droplets on the ground. They were getting farther apart and diminishing in volume, along with his optimism of finding a dead moonshiner at the end. Whoever Joel had shot had figured out a way to stop most of the bleeding. Maybe a tourniquet. Whatever. The trail wasn’t that heavy before, but at least it was consistent. Now it was sporadic and getting hard to follow. The last thing they needed was an armed and desperate drunk lurking in the shadows. He needed to find this moonshiner before they found Joel or the others.
He moved
