John stared at it, insides curdled and foul. He picked it up and turned it on. Dialed the only number that made sense.

  “John. Why am I not surprised?” Dane’s chair creaked and John pictured him, leaning back in his office, emergency lighting turning his skin green with the glow.

  “These men. Did you send them?”

  “Run into a little trouble, have you?”

  “Did you send them?”

  “Unfortunately, can’t say I had the pleasure.”

  John closed his eyes. So, they were a coincidence. Locals out to rob someone. He held his head in his hand as relief mixed with delirium. “You need to leave us alone.”

  “Oh, I don’t think that’s an option. Now that I know where you are.”

  John forced his eyes open. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s amazing what liquor does to people.” He could hear the smile across the line. “Loosens lips and other things if you know what I mean.”

  “Not sure I follow.”

  “That housewife of your compatriot, Sandra, I believe? So helpful. At least in the beginning. Too bad her tolerance isn’t as high as she hoped.”

  John curled his free hand into a fist. “What did you do to her?”

  “Me? Oh, come now, John, you know me better than that.”

  “Your henchmen, then.”

  “Let’s just say they refused the request for last call. Did you know alcohol poisoning can be lethal with as little as one liter of vodka? All depends on the individual’s tolerance.”

  “You killed her.”

  “No, a lovely Russian blend managed all on its own, I believe.”

  Pain snaked up John’s leg as he stood, and he reached for the Explorer to steady himself. “You’re not going to get away with this.”

  “It seems like I already have.”

  “If you won’t drop it and let us go, then I’m not going to have a choice. You’re forcing my hand.”

  “To kill Cross and Sanchez? That’s all I’ve ever asked for, John.”

  “That’s an understatement and you know it. Am I just supposed to forget about the thirty other kills?”

  “Water under the bridge at this point.”

  John snorted. He took a step away from the vehicle and his leg buckled. He grunted and Dane caught the noise.

  “Something in your way? Or are you a bit worse for wear, John?”

  “I stubbed my toe.”

  “Sure. And I’m the Tooth Fairy.”

  A wave of nausea rocketed up John’s throat and he held the sat phone arm’s length away as he retched onto the road. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’ll never stop coming, will you?”

  “How is that just sinking in?”

  John’s vision dimmed and he inhaled, holding his breath to a count of five before exhaling.

  “You still there, John?”

  “Last chance. Either leave us alone or I’ll have no choice.”

  “To what, take up belly dancing?”

  “Come after you.” It didn’t sound as strong as John wanted it to.

  Dane barked out a laugh. “Right. Like you’d ever make it through the door.”

  “Don’t underestimate me, Dane.”

  “Don’t overestimate your abilities, John.”

  “I’m not.” John ended the call and turned the satellite phone off before shoving it back in his pocket. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple and snaked across his cheek before he wiped it away. The conversation took more out of him than it should have.

  He turned and the world turned with him. He slumped against the side of the Explorer and sucked in a ragged breath. Pain and confusion hung about his body like a noxious plume of gas, every breath dragging him closer to oblivion.

  “Don’t pass out, you wimp.” He climbed over the body and into the vehicle searching for any sign of Emma or the other women. No guns. No food. No sign of them. Either they were already dead and carried off, which he doubted, or they’d managed to take the weapons and escape on foot.

  He climbed down, about to head back to the Jeep when a scream made him spin. Pain flared up his leg as he stepped away from the road and toward the noise. It came again, this time from deeper into the grasses to his right.

  John clicked on the cheap flashlight and panned the field. “Is someone out there? Emma? Holly?”

  The scream came again, and he tore forward, ignoring the pain, the dimming of his vision, the ringing in his ears. “Emma!” He would find her.

  He pushed through tangles of brambles, the sting of thorns bringing momentary clarity. “Emma! Holly!”

  Another scream, closer and more intense. John staggered forward. Sweat tumbled down his nose. “Emma!” His voice cracked on the second syllable. He stumbled.

  A tangle of wild grasses and flowers loomed in his face as he landed hard on the loamy earth. Fresh dirt, full of the smells of minerals and clay clogged his nostrils. He faded in and out of consciousness until something wet nosed his hand.

  He jerked, fumbling for the flashlight as nausea threatened once again to turn his stomach inside out. What the—?

  A pair of little hooves prodded his arm as a goat nuzzled his forearm. It bleated, and John fell back on the ground, too discombobulated and wrecked to laugh. He’d chased a goat into the weeds. A damn pygmy goat no bigger than a bulldog.

  The animal nuzzled him again and John closed his eyes. He would find Emma, Holly, and Gloria, but first, he needed to rest. Just for a minute.

  Chapter Fourteen

  EMMA

  “What do you mean he’s gone?” Emma wiped a dirt-crusted layer of sweat off her forehead and tried to maintain a veneer of calm. John was in no shape to be a passenger of a vehicle, let alone drive one.

  “We didn’t know anything about it until it was too late.”

  “The engine started up while we were inside, talking.” Vince stepped forward, hand thrust out in appeal as he spoke. “We would never have let him go if we’d known.”

  Emma exhaled and dropped the tension holding her shoulders taught. “I’m sorry. I’m tired and frustrated and—”

  “I should have gone with you.” Raymond reached for his wife, wrapping a beefy arm around Gloria’s shoulders before smoothing the hair away from her face. “If you’d been hurt…”

  “I never thought someone would ambush us on the road.” Emma stared out at the darkening woods. Nightfall rushed in with every passing minute. “Attack us here, sure. But not on the road.”

  “Dane must know where we are.”

  Gloria pulled away from her husband. “We don’t think they were part of his crew. Seemed local.”

  Raymond’s brow knit. “What do you mean?”

  “Rag-tag clothes, no weapons. I think it was a chance encounter.”

  “Two miles from here?” Raymond shook his head with conviction. “No way. I don’t believe it.”

  Vince interjected. “How did they find you?”

  “I don’t think they meant to find us, specifically.” Emma slumped into the closest kitchen chair. “They’d set a trap, throwing a handful of caltrops in the road.”

  Raymond practically snorted in derision. “There’s no way it was anyone else. Out here? In the middle of nowhere?” He wagged his finger as he spoke. “It was Dane’s crew, and we all know the only common link: John.”

  Emma ran through a series of rebuttals in her head but voiced none of them. Raymond would never listen to reason where John was concerned.

  The group fell into a tense silence. Raymond stood with his arms crossed across his chest. Holly stared out the window as she ran her fingers through Tank’s fur. Emma chewed on her lip.

  “He used the sat phone.” Gloria spoke up from across the room and Emma winced.

  The second the words sunk in, Raymond spun to his wife. “He what?”

  “He stole the phone and called his boss. Emma heard him.”

  Raymond whipped toward Emma, eyes ablaze with newfound anger. “When was this?”

  “When we first got here.” She kept her voice even and controlled even though his implicit attack raised her hackles.

  “You didn’t think this was relevant for us to know?”

  “John asked me not to say anything.” She gripped the arms of the chair, nails digging into the wood. “He was fishing for information. Wanted to know what Dane knew.”

  “He led them straight to us.”

  “No, he didn’t!” Holly practically shouted from across the room. “Those men didn’t come here. They found us out on the road.” She approached Raymond, shoulders back in defiance, and looked him in the eye. “I thought about it the entire walk home. There’s no way John told Dane our location. He didn’t know we’d found the animals. He didn’t know we’d be out there, rounding them up. If he’d snitched, the men would have come here, like we’d assumed.”

  Raymond opened his mouth to argue, but Vince stepped forward and stopped in front of Holly. “What are you saying?”

  “John would have led them straight here, not to some vague area in the middle of nowhere with a description of our vehicles and nothing more. If it really was Dane’s crew, which I doubt, then there’s only one person who could have done that.”

  The realization dawned over Vince’s features in slow motion as his eyes widened and his jaw went slack. “Sandra.”

  Holly reached for his hand and squeezed. “You said she didn’t know where the cabin was located, only the general area. Maybe they planned to stake us out, catch anyone on the road and interrogate them until they found us. They just got lucky.”

  “I don’t buy it.” Raymond held up a hand in dismissal. “It was John. It had to be.”

  “I still say it was random. Locals, not Dane. But either way, we should hear from John before we make up our minds. No assumptions.” Emma crossed her arms as she stared Raymond down. He didn’t stop moving long enough to even look her in the eye, hands streaking through his hair as he paced.

  She glanced at Gloria, still standing where Raymond left her, eyes focused on the floor, shoulders hunched with what Emma hoped was guilt. Blurting out the secret was a mistake. It only added fuel to Raymond’s dislike and furthered the tension in the group.

  John was right. She never should have told anyone, Gloria included. Emma stood. “We need to head back out there and look for him. Not argue about what happened.”

  Raymond opened his mouth to disagree, but slammed it shut before turning on his heel. He strode toward the front door and yanked it open and ducked out into the night. Gloria flashed a self-deprecating smile at Emma as she followed her husband. The door shut softly behind her.

  “Ray will come around,” Vince offered, although it didn’t sound confident. “He just needs a while to process.”

  Emma stared at the darkness settling in outside the window. They were losing time. “If John took a vehicle, he should have been back by now. We should have seen him on the road.” She shoved her hair back with both hands. “Something’s happened. I can feel it.”

  She didn’t add how much she cared about John or how he’d been the only bright spot in this whole crazy ordeal. How she’d flipped from calling him a monster to calling him... What, exactly? More than a friend, that was for sure.

  Holly closed the distance between them and reached for Emma’s hand. “Maybe he found the men and he’s out there doing reconnaissance or something. Whatever hitmen do.”

  Emma almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. “We should go. Look for him.”

  “There’s nothing we can do in the dark. We could walk right by him and not notice.” Vince glanced at his watch. “Sunset was half an hour ago. All we’d do tonight is waste time and risk an injury or something worse.”

  Emma hated to admit it, but Vince was right. “Then what do we do?”

  “Get some rest and head out at first light. John is resourceful. Whatever happened, he’ll find a way to survive it.”

  Emma swallowed down the worry. She would have to trust John to make it through, at least until morning.

  After putting together a meager meal of cold pork and beans, they all ate in silence, Raymond and Gloria opting to eat on the porch in the dark while Vince, Holly, and Emma crowded around the little table in the kitchen. No one said much of anything.

  Emma leaned against the wall of the cabin after dinner, listening as one by one everyone else fell asleep. For her, the night crawled on without rest. Sometime in the early morning, she dozed off, only to awaken as Vince slipped out the front door. She dressed quietly, careful not to disturb anyone. Raymond snored as Emma slipped outside.

  The cool morning air watered her eyes and she blinked it away as Vince rode up on Chestnut. He held out his hand and she launched herself onto the horse’s back. It sidestepped as she adjusted herself on the tandem saddle.

  “Sorry if it’s a tight fit. Use these for training. Mostly kids.”

  “No worries. I’m glad you thought to bring it.” Emma braced herself with one hand as Vince turned the horse toward the dirt road. After a few paces, they settled into a rhythm, the horse advancing at a steady trot and Emma bouncing along behind Vince in the saddle.

  “I’d hoped he’d come back all night.” Even more than that, though, she’d fought with herself to not get up and start the search. “What if he’s—”

  Vince twisted, cutting her off as he clucked at the horse. “Don’t even think it. Not yet. I figure we head straight to where you abandoned the Explorer, see if he made it that far. If not, then we fan out in a circle, take the side roads one-by-one until we find the Jeep.”

  They emerged from the thicket of trees and Emma stared out at the horizon. The sun warmed the fallow field, turning the weeds and grasses the shade of unfiltered honey. She wished it warmed her insides, too, but her heart and mind remained cold and apprehensive, too wary to hope.

  She shivered and Vince flicked the reins, easing the horse a bit faster as they headed down the paved road. Emma’s thoughts drifted from John, to Dane, to the multiple attacks on her life. If all of this hadn’t happened, if there had been no John, no hit, no threat, where would she be? Stuck at her apartment with no power, no food, no way to reach her parents in Idaho or Gloria at her cabin.

  John arrived with nefarious intent, true, but he’d saved her from so much more than a contract to die. He’d given her purpose and perspective. Something to focus on other than the end of the world.

  Vince slowed and Emma blinked the road back into focus. The Explorer loomed ahead, but just beyond sat the Jeep, intact and drivable from all appearances. The horse slowed to a walk and Emma swung her leg over before the animal even stopped. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she took off running.

  “Wait! You don’t—”

  She pulled her gun, holding it in her right hand as she hurried to the vehicle. Please be all right. Please. She slapped the driver’s side glass with her palm as she squinted into the interior. Empty. She glanced at the back. Nothing. Emma spun around. “John!” She shouted into the crisp air. “John!”

  “There’s tracks over here.” The horse sidestepped as Vince pointed to the field east of the road. “Maybe he walked this way.”

  Emma hurried around the Jeep, ignoring the two dead bodies still lying where they left them the day before, and followed Vince into the field. Blades of grass and brambles nicked her skin, but she plowed ahead. “John!” She called out over and over, the hope of an answer fading with each call.

  The horse whinnied, soft and low, and Vince leaned over the animal. Something rustled ahead.

  Emma froze. “What is it?”

  Vince brought a finger to his lips. The rustling intensified. Emma brought the handgun into position, adding her non-dominant hand for support.

  “Cock, cock-coca-doodle-do!” The weeds bent in front of them to reveal the rooster from the day before. Tan belly, bright red waddle. Still obnoxious and beautiful as ever. Toddling on behind him came a smattering of chickens, all fluffy butts and bobbing heads, tramping through the weeds to peck around Emma’s feet.

  She lowered the gun, almost dropping it as hope slipped from her grasp. “He was never out here. It’s just the animals.”

  A goat bleated no more than twenty feet away. Vince dismounted the horse. He flipped the reins over the animal’s back and gave her a pat. The horse dipped her head, instantly munching on the grasses in front of her.

  “Let’s check it out anyway.”

  “There’s no time!” Emma threw out her hand in frustration. “John could be anywhere. We can’t waste the minutes on finding the goats.”

  Vince tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Just bear with me a moment.” He eased through the grasses, careful not to step on a chicken as he headed in the direction of the bleating.

  As the green foliage slid back into place around Vince, Emma reluctantly followed, hustling to catch up. It took five minutes to find the goats. They had chewed in a haphazard circle, munching the grass and weeds down to the dirt. One bleated a happy cry at their arrival, shaking its little tail and shimmying as they approached. The other sat beside the best thing Emma had seen since waking up that morning.

  “John!” She rushed to his sprawled-out form and the little goat stood up to make room, bleating at her and nosing John’s shoulder. “Did you lead us here?” She reached out and gave the goat a rub on the head and it responded with another little cry.

  Emma blinked back a rush of tears as she leaned over to check John’s pulse. Steady, if not strong. “He’s alive!” She turned to Vince. “His skin is burning up, though.”

  As Vince knelt beside her, Emma reached for John’s leg and pulled up the fabric of his pants. The wound glared at her, red and swollen with pus oozing between a stitch. She gasped. “He’s on antibiotics. This makes no sense.”

  Vince shook his head, face slack in disbelief. “I don’t know what to tell you. It should be healed by now.”