Page 45 of Beacon

The grooves in the trail from the two motorcycles are still clearly evident this morning. We follow them easily for almost an hour. Then suddenly Mack applies the brakes.

I see why when I lean over to look around his body. The grooves veer off the trail and into the trees.

Surely they wouldn’t leave the trail to try to ride through the trees for any distance. This must be where they camped for the night.

It’s still very early in the morning. Only an hour or so after dawn. It’s possible they’re still stopped wherever they spent the night.

We don’t need to discuss the next steps. Mack parks, and we both get off, drawing our weapons.

Silently we walk through the woods following the direction of the tire marks. My heartbeat has sped up, and my adrenaline is pumping the way it always does before a fight or potential danger.

If we can catch them at their camp, we might actually be able to get the girl away from them. There are two of us and only two of them.

We’ve walked for a couple of minutes when a sound catches my attention. A muted grunt.

Mack meets my eyes and shifts course toward the sound. He’s got his gun held steady in front of him.

We move past a few large trees and suddenly reach the man who made the grunt.

It’s definitely one of the guys on the motorcycle with the girl. I recognize him immediately. He’s crouched down near the ground with his pants down around his ankle. He’s taking his morning shit.

He’s every bit as surprised as we are. We stare at each for a long, tense moment until the man reaches down for the shotgun beside him and opens his mouth to call out for help.

I react even before Mack does. I’m honestly not sure how I manage it. It must be instinct drilled into me fromyears of Maria’s training. I grab for the knife at my belt and throw it toward him. Maybe it’s luck as much as skill, but it gets him right in his throat, killing and silencing him in a matter of seconds.

I stand motionless, staring at the man’s dead body.

“Nice,” Mack breathes out, leaning over to grab my knife and then putting his hand on my back to guide me away from the dead man.

Maybe he’s simply trying to get me to move, or maybe he’s offering silent comfort. Either way, it serves its purpose. Able to breathe again, I walk with him, returning to the gouges in the soft dirt that indicate the direction of the motorcycles.

We pick them up easily and follow them another minute until we hear a male voice talking. Complaining. “Would you shut your fucking mouth? It’s been all night with your whining and crying. I can’t wait to get you to Colt so I can finally get some fucking peace. I don’t care about how big the payout is. I’m never taking a job like this again.” The voice gets louder when he calls out, “Vince! Would you get your fat ass back here so we can get a move on?”

Mack and I look at each other again. Then he nods and we walk toward the man’s bad-tempered voice.

They found a small clearing in the trees to make camp in. There’s the smoldering remains of a campfire. The little girl huddled on the ground near it. And a man pacing impatiently.

By mutual accord, Mack and I both raise our guns and fire at exactly the same time.

The man drops dead, hit by both our bullets.

Then I hurry over to the girl, talking as sweetly as I can when I tell her she’s safe now and we’re going to take her back to her dad.

She believes us. She stares slightly warily at Mack, who’s looking particularly gruff and intimidating at the moment with his messy beard and dirty clothes. But she relaxes when he smiles at her. I give her a brief explanation of how we found her, and then she comes with us willingly as we hurry back to the ATV.

And it’s as simple as that. Far easier than it should have been. For once, timing worked in our favor, and we caught the bad guys unaware.

It takes until early afternoon to get back. Once the girl relaxes, she’s a talkative little thing. Her name is Elizabeth. She doesn’t appear to mind that she’s squeezed between my body and Mack’s on the quad bike. She tells us about what happened to her—how she was visiting her grandmother and playing outside when the two men came out of nowhere to grab her after killing the man her dad had assigned to guard her—and she asks all about who we are and where we’re from.

I really like her, and I think Mack does too, although he doesn’t say much.

Mack tells me that he doesn’t know exactly where to find Logan, but he knows the general vicinity. When weget close, he asks at a house where he’s met the family who lives there, and they direct us the rest of the way.

Guards stop us as soon as we turn onto the trail that leads to Logan’s place, but they let us pass easily once they see that Elizabeth is with us. One of them escorts us.

The building we reach was a former commercial property that has been fortified like a military bunker. Logan strides out the front door before we even reach it.

As soon as Mack stops, I help Elizabeth get off the seat, and then the girl runs toward her father.

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