“What about all those agents?” Brooke asked, feeling the ligature marks on her wrists.
“I handled them.” Lauren looked left to a figure sitting with legs crossed in the trailer’s front corner, a black cylinder of fabric concealing his head and face. “Is that Christian?”
Brooke nodded. “Yeah. They brought him here a couple of days after they got us. I think they beat him up pretty bad. I hope he’s okay.”
“Me too,” Lauren said, then sent the girls on their way. “There’s an agent tied up outside near the fire ring. Keep your distance from him.”
Brooke’s expression went accusatory. “You kept one alive? After what they did?”
“Yes, and you don’t know the half of it,” Lauren responded. “He’s my problem, and he’ll get his due. Now go.” She turned away and went to Christian, removing his mask.
He blinked a few times before going fully alert at the sight of her; then his eyes widened as far as his bruises would allow. His face looked clean, but it also looked like he’d gotten into a close scrape with a meat grinder.
Lauren inspected him a moment, concern building in her eyes. “Jesus. What did they do to you?” She pulled the duct tape covering his mouth away, taking a handful of whiskers with it.
“Ouggh! Fugg!” the yelp came over the gag in his mouth.
“Sorry.” She tugged the gag out and tried rubbing away the pain she’d caused, then pulled him close to expose his restraints. “Are you okay?”
Christian spit out remnants of cloth left behind on his tongue. “Not really,” he said. “But your voice is music to my ears. I didn’t believe it at first. I kept saying to myself, that sounds like her, but there’s no way in hell that’s Lauren.” Feeling her knife free his wrists, he leaned back and looked her over. “How the hell did you find us?”
“We can talk about it later,” Lauren said. “But the clues you left behind were a big help.”
Christian lifted his chin in brief satisfaction. “Good to know the struggle wasn’t a waste. Who’s with you?”
Lauren didn’t answer him.
“You came alone?”
No response. She rose, snatched her rifle, and turned away, headed for the exit.
“Lauren, does anyone even know you’re here?”
Still, no reply was tendered.
“No one knows? Are you kidding me?” Christian pressed, straining to his feet. “Dammit, talk about failing to plan. This wasn’t smart at all. I hope you have an escape plan. We can’t stay here—there’s probably ten teams of agents out there waiting to pounce.”
“There isn’t.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I went to the source,” she explained, halting at the trailer door. “They’re tracking the trucks with GPS or something. The dashboard touchscreens display their locations on a map. That’s how I found the second camp.”
“The second camp?”
“This one.”
“So there was a first?”
“There was.”
“Implying it’s no longer a factor…” Christian surmised.
Lauren slowly shook her head. “Not since last night.”
Christian rubbed his wrists, looking sheepishly at her. “Fascinating. How many did you stamp out this time?”
“It doesn’t matter, but we need to talk about a few things before you go home.”
“Before I go home? Now why does that sound familiar?”
Lauren departed the trailer and strode to the SUV closest to camp. Opening the door, she leaned in and turned the ignition key, watching the backlit dashboard indicators come to life. “There’s plenty of gas in this one…and enough room for all of you.”
Christian inched his way to her as his eyes adjusted to the daylight, looking bewildered. “All of us…”
“And you might want to disable the tracking system before you head out.”
He stared hard at her, looking away when his face came into view in the side mirror. “Damn. They made a mess out of me, didn’t they?”
“There’s a first aid kit mounted to the passenger door panel if you want to clean up,” Lauren advised.
“Thanks, I might do that. Where are we, by the way? How far from home did they take us?”
“Not far. There’s a gravel forestry road at the end of this pathway. You can go right or left from there, doesn’t matter. It serpentines along the base of Little Sluice and spits you out below Wolf Gap on the same road. I’m sure you can find your way from there.”
Christian heard what she’d said, but didn’t respond, now fixated on the DHS agent staring back at him from the other end of the campsite. “Lauren, who the fuck is that?”
She whipped her head around.
“You said they weren’t a factor!” he spat, galloping away. “That’s obviously not the case!”
“I never said—” Lauren gave chase but couldn’t get there in time to prevent an interrogation.
“Howdy, partner! Remember me?” Christian mildly kicked August Carter’s upper leg. “Remember this face? You should. Because I remember yours!”
“Get the hell away from me!” the agent grunted his plea.
“No. I don’t think so. You and your cronies didn’t make it easy on me, so you get the same treatment.” Christian knelt and took hold of August’s chin, then began tapping a finger on the agent’s chest. “Here’s a better view of your work. Take a good look! Bet it makes you proud, doesn’t it?”
Lauren forced her way between them, breaking Christian’s hold. “That’s enough! Lay off him!” She dug her heels in and yanked Christian to his feet by the collar, then shoved him with all her might.
He lost stability and fell backward, landing on his butt. “What the hell? What’s gotten into you? I’m not the enemy, he is!”
Lauren extended an enraged
