He handed the last of the bottle to Scott and helped him drink it. Craig was studying the situation. It wasn’t a pretty one, Mac acknowledged. Two injured men, one of whom would have to be packed out. One woman, too small to help with the carrying. It was going to be him and Craig, he thought. He hoped he did have a sling.
“Ron, Angie, I need two poles about two inches in diameter, six feet long. Look around, and I mean literally look with your eyes, and see if you spot anything,” Craig said. He pulled out a sling, the cloth part of a stretcher. Mac agreed; two poles would make life easier.
“Over there,” Angie said and pointed. “Those two small Aspen.” Mac looked where she pointed, and nodded. He surveyed the ground to make sure there weren’t any other traps left behind.
“You got anything better than my knife to cut them down?” Mac asked.
“Hatchet in the backpack,” Craig said. He was focusing on Scott’s leg. “Leave me your knife. I’m going to shorten up this pike a bit.”
Mac handed it to him, got the hatchet, and took down the two Aspen. Angie pulled out a knife and started stripping the smaller limbs. “You doing OK?” he asked quietly.
“Me? I should be asking you that,” she said. “God, Mac. You scared me.”
He grinned at her. “That’s why I asked. Harder to watch than to do sometimes. Ask Craig.”
“Yeah, he didn’t like not being the one who went after him,” she conceded.
They dragged the two poles back and threaded them through the sling. “Good,” Craig said. “Mac?”
“You lead,” Mac said. “When we get to the main trail, we can trade off, give you a break.”
Craig nodded. “Ron? You’ve got the compass, and the instructions. You need to reverse it, and lead us out of here. Angie? Stay with Ben, keep him moving. You two are bringing up the rear.”
Ben was hurting. Craig had gotten his arm into a sling, but it had to hurt like a mother, Mac thought. He’d prefer someone more skilled bringing up the rear, but then he reconsidered. Angie was as savvy as anyone in this group.
He looked at her. “You need to listen,” he said quietly. “Extend your awareness outward. If they come for us, it will likely be from behind. You’re the warning system, OK?”
She nodded. Her face serious. She’d put the camera in her backpack and had pulled out her gun and put it in the pouch of her sweatshirt.
“Ben?” Mac said. “Don’t be afraid to ask for help or a break. We’re not after speed. We’re after success.” He smiled, remembering the sergeant who taught him that line. A good man.
He nodded.
Mac got between the poles in back, Craig picked up the front ones, and on a count of three they lifted. Scott inhaled sharply.
One foot in front of the other, Mac thought grimly. One step at a time.
Chapter 21
Mac figured they’d hiked out for an hour to the first target. It took them two hours to get back to camp. He and Craig had changed places when they reached the main trail. The weight pulled on the front man’s shoulders harder. And Craig wasn’t a young man. A fit one, thank God, Mac thought. But he was probably 45 if he’d been in Desert Storm. Mac hoped he was as fit in another 15 years.
And they were lucky. The height difference wasn’t too great. Craig was a few inches taller, something Mac wasn’t used to.
The camp was silent.
Mac called a halt raising up one hand. And he turned to quiet them, but they’d already fallen silent. Or they were just too tired to talk, he thought.
“Wait,” he mouthed silently to Craig, who nodded. He bent over Scott to check his leg. And Mac slid into camp.
Someone had been through there, he saw. Slashed the tires of all the rigs, including his own, the fuckers. He could smell gas, so they’d probably cut the lines as well. He walked through camp. He was pretty sure Rand had stayed behind, but he didn’t see a body. The camp was silent, deserted.
“Rand,” he said softly, just loud enough to carry. “It’s Mac.”
The man stepped out from behind the porta-potty. He looked haggard, and he carried a pistol hanging at his side.
“You made it back. I figured you would,” Rand said, emphasizing the word you. “The rest of your team?”
“Two injured. But we’re all here,” Mac said. “What happened?”
Rand had been cleaning up after breakfast when he heard a couple of SUVs pull into camp. Puzzled, he started toward the sounds, then he heard a gunshot, and decided that hiding would be better. So, he’d gone into the woods. “They were deputy reserves,” he said. “I didn’t see Norton, but I recognized a couple of them. And they had their badges on for God’s sake! Personal SUVs, though. They tore up the camp, flattened the tires. I can smell gas, so they may have cut the lines. Or they may have done something to the generators. I’ve been lurking around since they left, trying to assess damage and stay out of sight.”
Craig had joined them for most of the conversation. He was frowning, worried, Mac thought. Hell of a situation to be responsible for a bunch of gun-toting wannabes.
“We’ve still got two groups out there,” Rand said. “I’m not all that worried about Ken’s group. Ken will take care of them and get them back here if it’s at all possible. But the other group? It’s led by two younger crew members. And they don’t have the experience for this kind of thing. I mean what the hell? We’re under attack by sheriff deputy reserves?”
“Craig?” Mac asked, his voice dangerously soft. “What do you know about
