But it wasn’t going to be a lot. Our best hope—our only hope—was to get into the forest and lose ourselves in there. Find a place to hide from them. And then keep as still and quiet as we could until they’d cleared out.
It wasn’t a good plan. But it was all I had.
10
Marlon stared at the men rushing through the camp, his mouth tight in displeasure and surprise.
“Dammit.”
Things had certainly gone sideways in a hurry. At first, it had seemed like everything might, shockingly, turn around. One minute, Logan Smith had been forcing John and Henry toward the camp, gun aimed at their backs, his mouth moving quickly, his face caught in a dangerous scowl. Marlon had seen Henry talking—using the story they’d come up with, he hoped, rather than something that would actually put John in danger—and then suddenly John had been moving.
He’d disarmed Logan quickly, then sent the man to the ground. Logan hadn’t moved since he’d fallen.
John had taken a short amount of time to make sure Logan wasn’t going to move—time when Marlon had been screaming at him in his head to get the hell out of there—and they’d looked like they were about to move when suddenly the entire campground had come alive with men.
More men than Marlon had realized they’d had. He hadn’t been watching the campground at the time, as his attention had been all for John and Henry. So it had been unclear where they’d all come from, but watching them rush through the alleys and walkways of the camp now, one thing was crystal clear: John and Henry were in trouble. There were a lot more men now than there had been before—and they were all heading for John and Henry.
Marlon didn’t know for sure if they’d seen his friends. If John and Henry could get out of their quickly enough, get to the forest, they might be able to hide there and keep the men from seeing them at all.
But that was only going to last until those men got to Logan. Because whatever the crowd was doing, they were going to pause when they saw one of their number on the ground, no doubt bleeding and broken. And if he was alive, they were going to try to wake him up.
If he woke up, he’d tell them who had done that to him. And Marlon knew Randall well enough to know that he would never let John go. Not if he thought he had him at a disadvantage in the forest. Apparently, John had taken Randall and his three cousins out with his own two hands in Randall’s own home, and then taken the woman Randall had been planning to use as a kidnap victim.
Then Marlon, John, and Angie had escaped him again and again on their trek to Ellis Woods.
No, Randall wouldn’t be forgiving. The moment he knew John was on that side of the river, he’d be going out of his way to find him. Find him and kill him.
Which meant they had to make sure he didn’t find out.
“Joe, you see the guy on the ground?” Marlon asked sharply.
“Course I do,” he muttered.
“Right. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead, but we can’t have him telling all those men who he just let escape. If he’s still alive, we have to make sure he’s dead before they get there. Are you up to the task?”
Instead of answering, Joe pulled his rifle up to his face, ducked down to put his eye to the scope, and pulled the trigger.
Marlon gasped in surprise at this action, then turned to look at Logan again. Joe pulled the trigger once more, and Logan’s body jumped, then grew absolutely still again.
“Two head shots do it?” Joe asked quietly.
Marlon kept his face neutral. He really should have learned more about this guy’s background. If he was that good with a gun, it would have really opened up their options half an hour ago. But there was no time for that now. Right now, they had to do whatever it took to give John and Henry the head start they needed to get back to the bridge.
“That’ll do,” Marlon answered simply. “Now let’s start working on the bigger crowd. We need to give John and Henry time to get away. We don’t necessarily have to hit anyone, so don’t take too much time to aim. Our mission now is to create chaos.”
“Got it,” Joe said.
And they both started shooting right into Randall’s crowd of hooligans.
11
The shooting started the moment we hit the forest, and I went skidding on my stomach in the snow, my instincts taking over and telling me to get the hell down. Present a smaller target for whoever was shooting at us.
It didn’t even matter who it was. There was an enormous crowd of men coming up behind us, and they were all part of Randall’s gang. I assumed that meant they were all also armed—and had orders to shoot intruders on sight. If they got to Logan and heard our names, and then ran those names by Randall, I knew the chances were even better of being killed.
Or taken prisoner. Which I did not want to see happen. Being killed wasn’t ideal. Being taken prisoner—by an enemy who had very little respect for life, and even less liking for you—was about the worst thing that could happen when you were in the middle of a battle.
At least when you were dead, you were dead. You were beyond the reach of anyone in this life. Beyond the pain that they could cause you.
“Get down!” I screamed, noticing at that moment that Henry was still running along, completely upright.
I had to give the man credit, he knew how to take an order. He went immediately into a baseball-style hip slide, his rifle held safely down by his hip. When he came to a stop, he spun around and got onto his stomach, then sent me a look.
“I thought we were trying to get the hell out of here!” he hissed, his breathing heavy.
“We’re also trying to avoid getting shot on our way out,” I amended. “I don’t know who the hell’s shooting, but I’m not in the mood to catch a stray bullet.”
I turned around and glared back out into the open spot between us and the campground, my eyes on the men rushing around out there. Surprisingly, almost none of them were facing our way. In fact, unless my eyes were lying to me, it didn’t look like they’d even managed to get to Logan yet. Instead, they were just sort of… rushing around. Like they’d panicked and didn’t know what to do about it.
Another shot rang out, followed by at least three more, and I ducked closer to the ground.
Then, to my surprise, I saw one of the men on the outside of the group go down to the ground. Then another. And then another.
“They’re not shooting at us,” Henry observed quickly. “Someone is shooting at them.”
My eyes flew across the river to the car that I thought Marlon and Joe were hiding behind, and within seconds I saw the muzzle flash there that told me that they were indeed hiding behind that car—and they were shooting at the crowd of invaders. Thank God. They must have seen everything that happened, and jumped to some quick conclusions—including that we would need cover if we were going to get away.
“Marlon,” I said grimly. “Marlon and Joe are laying down cover for us. Keeping those guys distracted so we can get away. Come on.”
I got quickly to my feet and was about to turn and run into the forest when I saw something else that surprised me.
Randall had appeared in the midst of his men, seeming not to care about the bullets flying toward them, and was screaming for the men to get themselves under control. For them to remember the mission.
“They want a fight? We’ll give them one!” he screamed. “This is what we’ve been waiting for! This is our time! Are you ready, men?”
A roar of excitement tore through the crowd, and it sent chills down my back.
“Oh my God,” I muttered. “They weren’t running after us. They were just running to the edge of camp. That’s why they have their weapons. That’s why they’re all together. That’s why he was giving them a damned pep talk.”