THE HUNTING GROUND by AJB

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Buck." Chris spoke softly in the darkness to identify himself and joined the rest of his team outside the shallow cave. "They know our location and are setting up to surround us. You and I are going to split them up."

"And we know this, how?" Ezra asked as he retrieved his sidearm.

"No time to explain. Vin will cover you from above. Ezra, Nathan, fan out at the edge. At least three should be coming in from that area." Chris indicated the right side of the cliff face. "Buck, you and I are taking on the ones in the other direction."

Alex's breathing stuttered to hyper-ventilation and Nathan paused to coach her into calmness.

"I don't like any of this, Chris." Buck's flat voice doubled down the message. "I don't trust . . ."

"We don't have time to debate this. Let's go." Buck reluctantly followed his boss and friend. Chris turned back after a few steps and caught Ezra's attention. "If you have to move out, go west."

"Yes sir." The agent gave Chris a solemn nod and touched his forehead in a quick salute.

"They are starting to circle. I think they are about fifty yards out."

Chris applied the knowledge to their departure. "Fifty yards out," he whispered to Buck as the moved cautiously through the trees. He only got a low grumble in reply and heard more that saw his partner move to his right to set a parallel position.

As he advanced, Chris noted that he could see his breath in the cold darkness. Intent on his quest, he still felt the warm connection between himself and Tanner.

"Thirty yards. One to your left, eleven o'clock, one between you two, one to Buck's right."

Chris reached out and tapped Buck's arm and then signaled the locations. Although he gave a sharp nod, Chris saw the doubt and anger in his friend's eyes. Still, Wilmington moved off as ordered. As they progressed, their dark forms blended with the black tree trunks and shadows, becoming invisible in the landscape.

Concentrating on his quarry, Chris gripped his weapon and walked as quickly as he could without making noise. The wind picked up, covering the sound of his movement as well as those of his target. When he estimated the enemy's location to under ten yards, he stopped and raised his weapon as he swept the area with his eyes, looking for movement against the wind.

Above him, the branches swayed and whispered. At his feet, loose needles tumbled along the ground. He spared a glance upward, hoping for moonlight, but only saw inky canopy. A cold raindrop struck his cheek.

"Ten o'clock!"

A gunshot followed the warning and Chris twitched, realizing after a second that the shot came from the lookout. Urgency pulsed from Vin, and Chris reacted by attacking. He covered the distance in a crouched run with his handgun leading the way. More gunshots sounded to his right and he fixed his target's location when a muzzle flash nearly blinded him.

Chris fired in response and ducked to his left in pursuit, zeroing his sites on a large, dark form moving away quickly. Icy stabs of rain hit his face as he moved and the two exchanged running shots. Something plucked his thigh and then his bicep, but he pushed on in full-focused hunter mode. He heard shouts and gunfire off to his right and ignored it all to close the gap to his target.

The once quiet woods erupted with blazing guns and storm-lashed rain. Wild winds kicked up sticks and leaves and set branches in hysterical motion. Chris' boots slipped on the slick ground, but he closed the distance to the threatening shadow with a warrior's determination. Gunfire deafened and muzzles flashed. Chris ducked around a large tree, circled the musty damp trunk, and charged.

A nova blinded him, gun smoke burned his nostrils, and a giant's shadow loomed up before him, his enemy's face a mere yard ahead and etched in hard determination within the notches of Chris' gun sights. Chris growled and fired. The shadow jerked backward and returned fire as Larabee lunged.

Then they fell, both of them together, tumbling roughly through mud, rain, rocks, and roots. They skidded to a stop in a tangle of limbs, fighting. The shadow man was twice Chris' size and equaled his determination to survive. The ATF tactical vest softened most of the blows, but he felt every one. There was an infuriating disconnect between his brain's orders and his body's reactions, and for a fleeting second the idea of failure flared. Fortunately, his quarry retreated at that moment, hunched over in pain. Chris realized he'd lost his gun and pulled a tactical knife from his boot.

His lungs burned and his legs wobbled but like a terrier but Chris kept on in a single-minded pursuit. The shadow man stumbled once, twice, and then Larabee was on him, fists flying, and blade flashing. They rolled again, rocketing over a sharp edge as one, airborne for several seconds before striking the ground and sliding, sliding, sliding . . .

The stop was abrupt and the shadow man's breath exploded from his lungs with a nauseating crack when Chris rode the man's spine into a boulder. Momentum ripped them apart and Chris continued down the slope, alone, scrambling and fighting for breath in the cold rain and mud. It felt like he was drowning, and fear blossomed just as his tumble ended with the fall of a black curtain and an echo of someone calling his name.


"Nathan! Are you alright?" Panting Ezra stole a glance over his shoulder to find his teammate.

"I'm good! I'm good!"

"Miss Wickerman?"

"She's fine! I have her here . . ."

Standish crept cautiously along the edge of their lookout, shivering. The wind and rain lessened and the agent blew out his breath to steady his heart. Searching the swaying woods for any unnatural movement he called out, "Marshal Tanner?"

"Here."

Ezra pinpointed the source of the reply behind and to his right, concluding that the marshal was coming down to their level. He replayed what he saw of the firefight in his head and understood that Vin Tanner was a hell of a shot with the eyes of an eagle. Ezra figured that he clipped one of the miscreants, but Tanner was the one that took them down permanently. He walked the edge once more before holstering his weapon and retreating to the cave.

Nathan squatted by the girl as he rubbed her shoulders and Tanner knelt down on her other side, rubbing his temples. Ezra fished out his cell phone and activated the flashlight, checking the girl first.

"Are you unhurt?"

She nodded. "Did you get them?" Her voice quivered.

"I believe so. Mr. Tanner? You are a remarkable shot." Ezra turned the light to their newest brother in arms, who failed to acknowledge him. "You have blood on your hands."

"What?" Nathan rose immediately and went to the marshal's side. Tanner tried to shy away, but the rocky face blocked him. "Let me see." He reached for Vin's hand.

Tanner rose suddenly as if startled by Nathan's presence. "Don't touch me," he said hoarsely.

"Come on now, let me look . . ." Nate pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, and Vin slammed his eyes closed with a groan as he backed away.

Ezra turned his light off and stepped back. "I will leave you and try to reach Mr. Dunne from above, and then I will check the area."

Jackson spared a quick look. "Don't go far, Ezra," he ordered.

"Understood." Ezra continued up the side and as soon as he reached the pinnacle, he felt his cell vibrate. He smiled at the caller ID. "We are unscathed here, Mr. Sanchez. No doubt you heard the gun play?"

"What happened? What's going on?"

"Three of six bad guys are out of commission according to the sure-shot marshal. I was just on my way to verify . . ."

"Five of six." Buck oozed from the darkness, wet, muddied, and riled. "I can't find Chris or the sixth man. I'm having a talk with that marshal."

Before Ezra could stop him, Buck descended to the cave. "Is backup coming?"

"Yes," Josiah answered. "Did he say you can't find Chris?"

"He did. It is quiet out there, so we do not know where the sixth man is either. Is the weather discouraging air support?"

"Yes. The front is still moving through so they are coming in on foot from the west and the east and checking the parking lot area. They figure you are closer to the west road, so they plan on bringing all of you out that way. Can you all walk?"

"Most of us can. Ms. Wickerman needs adequate clothes and footwear, size six. Buck, Nathan and myself are uninjured, but Marshal Tanner may be indisposed – Nathan is checking him out, but he was ambulatory."

"Okay then, stay put until we get there. I'm on my way."

"I do not believe Mr. Wilmington will agree with that order."

"Listen, Ezra – we don't need to lose another man in the woods. It's dark, rough territory, and we don't need Chris' tracks disturbed. We will find him."

Ezra heard sharp voices below and recognized Buck's interrogating tone. He assured Josiah that he'd check back in every five minutes and cut the connection, taking a deep, cleansing breath to gain focus. Beyond that, the wilderness had calmed significantly and settled into an eerie silence. He held his phone to his chest and gazed skyward, following the gauzy cloud of his breath.

Drifting down from the blackness above, a white flake of snow settled gently on his nose.