“That’s a big chance to take,” Owen said, screwing the silencer onto the end of his gun.
I let out a breath. “I know, but we’re just going to have to risk it. This is our best, quickest chance to get close to her. It might be our only chance. I want to get Sophia out of here before Grimes and Hazel can do anything else to her.”
Owen’s face hardened, and anger sparked in his violet eyes, the same anger that I felt. He nodded.
“And me?” Warren asked. “What do you want me to do?”“You stay here, and lay down some cover fire for us if things go wrong,” I said. “I’d like to kill these guys and slip away before Grimes realizes what’s happened, but
Owen’s right, and we probably won’t be that lucky. So if worse comes to worse, we kill as many of them as we can here, then get Sophia to safety.”
Warren patted his rifle. “You got it.”
I looked at him, then Owen, wondering if I was about to get us all killed. If they had the same thought, they didn’t show it. Their hands curled around their guns, and their gazes were steady, determined, and level with mine.
“Okay,” I said. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”
I looked at Owen, who had moved about thirty feet to the left of where I crouched at the edge of the trees. He nodded, and I threw a rock high overhead. It landed in the woods on the far side of the clearing, crashing into the underbrush beyond the pit. The men had been talking among themselves, but their heads snapped in that direction, and they straightened up and pushed away from the tombstones they’d been leaning against. A few of them raised their guns and took some tentative steps forward, as though they were thinking about investigating the noise, although they still kept away from the edge of the pit and out of Sophia’s reach.
While the men were debating what they’d heard and whether it was some sort of animal, Owen used their distraction to sprint out of the woods behind them. I threw another rock in the same general direction as before. It too tumbled through the underbrush, keeping the men from noticing Owen crossing into the woods on the far side of the clearing.
Sophia noticed, though.
She glanced over her shoulder at just the right moment to see Owen disappear into the trees. She froze, her eyes wide, and I could almost see the wheels spinning in her mind as she wondered whether she’d actually seen what she thought she had.
“What are you looking at?” one of the men muttered.
“Get back to work. That ditch isn’t going to dig itself.”
Sophia shrugged and went back to her digging, but she kept turning her head from side to side, peering into the trees that lined the clearing. She knew that something was up. Good.
After a few more minutes, the men settled down again, having decided that it was likely some animal creeping through the woods, after all.
Not an animal—the Spider. But they were going to find that out soon enough.
“Show time,” I whispered to Warren.
He nodded, dropped to a knee, and raised his rifle to his shoulder, getting a bead on the men.
I slid my knife back up my sleeve, pulled my vest down so that it covered as much of my chest as possible, crept down the hill, and walked out into the clearing.
I kept my pace steady and even, ambling along as though I was out for a nice, quiet walk in the woods, instead of deliberately heading toward a bunch of sadistic psychopaths with guns.
“Excuse me,” I called out. “Yoo-hoo. Hello, over there.”
This time, all of the men’s heads snapped around in my direction. I smiled and gave them a bright, happy, cheery wave. Their mouths gaped even wider, as if they’d never seen a woman before. Then their eyes narrowed with wariness, and they raised their guns, aiming them at my chest.
“Hold it right there, lady!” one of the men barked, stepping in front of the others.
I kept right on waving and walking toward them, as if their guns didn’t concern me at all, making sure that all enemy eyes stayed on me. And it worked. The men didn’t notice Sophia start creeping across the pit toward the bank where they were standing—or Owen sliding out of the woods behind them.
I kept my smile firmly fixed on my face as I neared the group.
The man in front thumbed back the trigger on his revolver. “I said stop. I mean it, lady.”
“Whoa, now, boys,” I drawled, doing as he asked and faking surprise. “Hold on there a second. There’s no need to get violent. I’m just a little lost way out here in the woods, and I was wondering if you could help me. How do I get back to the Bone Mountain trail from here? Because I, like, totally lost my map back in the woods. One second, I had it. The next—poof!—the wind sent it sail— ing right over one of the ridges.”
The leader frowned, his eyes scanning the woods behind me. “You’re out here by yourself? Just you?”
“Yup, it’s just little ole me,” I said, making my voice even more syrupy-sweet and helpless. “All by my lonesome.”
The man lowered his gun, his thumb tapping against the hilt as he tried to figure out whether I was telling the truth. Apparently, he wasn’t concerned about one lone woman, because he holstered his gun.
“Did you hear that, boys?” he said, looking over his shoulder at his friends. “This poor little lady is lost. Lucky for her that she wandered into our camp, eh?”
He let out a dark chuckle, and all the men joined in his laughter, no doubt salivating over all the horrible things they wanted to do to me. They wouldn’t be laughing in another minute, two tops.
I kept the empty, ditzy smile on my face and sidled even closer to him. “So can you help me figure out how to get back to the trail, then? Because I’ve got to tell you that it feels like I’ve been walking around out here in circles forever.”
The man crooked his finger at me. “Sure, honey. come on over here, and we’ll fix you right up.”
I went to him, my face all wide-eyed innocence, even as I surreptitiously palmed a knife and dropped it down by my side. Owen crept toward the man standing at the back of the pack, while Sophia eased a little closer to the side of the pit and hoisted her shovel up onto her shoulder, as though she were taking a break.
The leader held his hands out to his sides, like he was welcoming me with open arms. I stopped in front of him and gave him another empty smile. He lunged forward, grabbed my arms, and yanked me up against him, grinding his body against mine.
“Hey!” I cried out in a mock-helpless voice. “What are you doing? Get your hands off me, you creep!”
“Oh, I’ll be putting more than my hands on you in a minute. You go ahead and scream as loud as you want to, honey.” The man sneered into my face, his breath smelling of sour moonshine. “We like it better when they scream, don’t we, boys?”
“Really?” I purred. “That’s funny, because I was thinking the exact same thing about you. No, that’s not true. I actually like it better when you just die.”
I brought my left hand up and slammed my knife into his throat. He died with a choking gurgle, spraying blood all over my hand, face, and clothes, but I didn’t care. Because the warm, sticky drops told me that I was finally doing something to help Sophia—like killing these bastards where they stood.
I shoved the dying leader away, stepped forward, palmed a second knife, and rammed both blades into the next man’s chest. By this point, the others realized that I wasn’t the innocent little Bambi that I appeared to be, and they raised their guns once more.
But Owen and Sophia didn’t give them a chance to fire at me. Owen put his pistol up against the back of the man’s head in front of him and pulled the trigger twice.