The Hunt

She had to stop second-guessing herself. Her fear was rising because he was getting closer.

Dammit, where was he? He should have been here by now.

He wouldn’t stroll down the middle of the canyon. He’d follow their tracks, keeping close to the trees so he would have an element of surprise. Miranda had planted false tracks on the north side of the canyon, opposite of where she was hiding.

She expected him in camouflage to blend in with the environment. Every muscle rigid, she waited and watched.

There.

A movement to her left. Faint. Directly in front of Ashley’s hiding spot. She looked and saw nothing. Maybe it was the rain playing tricks with her peripheral vision.

The sunlight had all but disappeared under the gray skies; visibility was minimal. The trap was a bad idea. She’d never be able to see him.

But maybe this was okay. He would pass by, and she and Ashley could sit tight until Quinn came.

Yes. That would work.

To her far left she sensed movement. Dammit, Ashley! Get down. Stay down. Hadn’t she listened to her? Don’t move. Stay low. Don’t even look.

Straight in front of her, forty feet away, she saw him. He stood perfectly still. She’d marked a trail going another two hundred feet past her hiding space, before she had backtracked-why had he stopped there?

Did he hear something?

Smell something?

Had he seen Ashley move in the rotting tree where Miranda had tried to hide her?

Dammit, what did he know?

She was panicking. He couldn’t know where she was hiding. Or Ashley.

Please stay down, Ashley. Please be quiet.

Larsen was listening. He stood so still that if Miranda hadn’t known he was there, she would have questioned her sanity. But she had seen a glimpse of him, and if she focused she could make out his silhouette.

Run. Run!

No, she would not run. She would stay right here, behind the low boulder. She was flat on her stomach, watching him from above. Watching, with her gun sights on the Butcher. He was too far for a certain hit. And she couldn’t afford to miss. One miss, and he would bolt and come at them again. With the knowledge of where they were.

Walk on by, Larsen. Walk on by.

Her plan was to backtrack once Larsen passed them. In the ten minutes she’d had to plan, she determined the best trap would be to not get caught. Let him pass them, then backtrack as fast as possible to Nick. At some point before they reached him, they’d run into Quinn and the others.

Her number-one responsibility was to protect Ashley, not to catch the Butcher. But even through her fear, she wanted to stop him. Now. Give him no other opportunity to hurt another woman.

But getting Ashley safely out of the mountains was her job, and one she took very seriously.

Walk on by. Come on, come on! What are you waiting for?

He stood there, unmoving. Why?

She sensed more than saw Ashley’s panic.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion-Ashley jerked forward, out of the log. Back again.

Larsen turned his body and stared at the log. He raised his rifle.

Ashley screamed and scrambled out of the dead tree. Miranda aimed her gun at Larsen. He dropped to his knee and turned his rifle toward Ashley.

Miranda fired once, twice, three times.

Larsen fell flat to the ground. Had she hit him?

Ashley screamed again and Larsen used his forearms to crawl along the ground. He swung his rifle around and fired at Ashley.

“Ashley, get down!” Miranda yelled as she fired three more rounds at Larsen. But he was already rolling away from her and then he disappeared behind a boulder.

Shit! Where had he gone?

Ashley stumbled to Miranda’s hiding spot. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I thought he’d seen me, I had to run. I’m sorry.”

“Shh. Stop.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Be quiet,” Miranda commanded. She had to think. She stared at the boulder forty feet in front of her. Visibility was so poor, she couldn’t see beyond. Was he cowering on the other side? Had he crawled away? Would he try to get them from the right? The left? The rear?

He had to know where they were. But Miranda didn’t dare move.

She would wait him out. She had no choice.

CHAPTER 34

One minute ticked off.

Miranda didn’t move. She barely trusted herself to breathe. The only sound she heard other than the steady beat of the rain was Ashley shivering.

Her eyes swept the landscape. Back and forth. Looking for movement, something that told her where he’d gone.

Nothing.

Another minute ticked off.

Fear coated her mouth, a foul taste that made her want to spit. But she didn’t dare open her mouth. Her chest tightened as her eyes darted back and forth, back and forth.

She felt like prey frozen by primal terror. Unable to move, unable to save herself. She was going to die out here after all, like a lamb led to the slaughter. Helpless.

No. You will not die without a fight.

“Ashley.” She whispered right in the girl’s ear. “I’m going to crawl down to the creek.”

“No!”

“Shhh.” Damn, damn! What was with this girl? Didn’t she understand that the prey had to be quiet? Above all, quiet.

Miranda was losing it. Get a grip.

“I’m going to-”

She heard the sharp report of a rifle at the same time a chunk of the boulder she hid behind exploded next to her face. She stifled a scream, but Ashley didn’t.

“No!” Miranda yelled as Ashley jumped up and ran down the slope.

Whap-whap!

Ashley stumbled and rolled down the hill.

He killed her. Dear God, no!

Miranda started crawling down the slope on her belly, making herself a smaller target, then saw Ashley move.

She wasn’t dead. Falling had saved her life.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement. She turned and aimed her gun downhill. He was partly shielded by rocks, so he was lying low, too.

His rifle was raised.

Ashley was on her feet, running away.