Page 12 of Storm Warning

Send me the list. I’m in town.

I’m here too. I’ll get it. You’re needed back at the lodge.

Okay.

That settled, Remi drove to Settlers General Store. They carried everything in small quantities, and the whole town had already been there and gone. Settlers was out of batteries, kerosene, matches, and bottled water. But they had plenty of what Remi needed. Supplies loaded, she headed back to the lodge. She exited off 101 and turned left onto the mud-rutted path. About a mile in, she slowed.

“Are you kidding me?”

A full-size tree trunk had fallen across the road. She wasn’t getting by that.

Remi radioed Dylan to send help, then pulled her hood on. Zipped her heavy rain jacket up but decided against the rain boots. She hopped out and hiked around to the back of the Bronco to get the small chain saw. She’d found it in the back of the Bronco when she bought it and, living here, she’d had to use it twice already. She couldn’t see around the hood but heard the slush of footsteps in the mud.

Good. Someone could help her with this.

Remi stepped back from the Bronco. Someone approached, wearing a black winter face mask. Her heart stuttered. A knife slashed toward her.

4

Hawk slammed on his brakes. His truck fishtailed before stopping on the muddy path. A large cedar trunk blocked his way. And on the other side sat an old Bronco. The door hung open.

He stepped out of his Ford F-150. Holstered his Colt M1911 handgun. He took in his surroundings as he hiked over to the fallen trunk and called out. “Hello?”

Weird. No one was around. Had someone walked all the way back into town for help? He skirted the length of the tree to get around it rather than climbing over—because it was huge—then approached the empty vehicle. Why leave the Bronco open? Rain could damage the interior. He closed the vehicle, marched around, and looked in the back of the Bronco. A chain saw rested inside just waiting to be used, along with plastic bins, a big bag of flour, and a few sacks from Settlers. Something wasn’t right. Two sets of boot prints, one bigger than the other, drew his attention. The marks left in the muddy road could mean signs of a struggle.

Skin prickling, he readied the Colt and followed thetracks that led him into the dense forest and thick underbrush, which made it easier to follow the trail. Moss grew on the rocks, the trees, and made the ground slick in places. After a few minutes of weaving between spruce and cedar trees, Hawk paused to listen. Water dripped in the rainforest, slightly blunting the effects of the approaching storm, and the tree canopy blocked much of the light.

Groans and grunts drew his attention to the right. Alert to the danger, and the fact time could be running out, he followed the recently trampled ferns. He couldn’t see who fought, but sounds of a struggle warned him that he was getting close. He pressed his back against a tree. Then peered around, his gun ready.

His gut clenched when he saw Remi crouched against the tree about fifteen feet from him, clearly hiding. Relief swept through him that she was okay, but it was short-lived. Her reaction told him the danger was near, too near. He wanted to get her attention and let her know that he was here to help. She must have skills to have fought off an attacker. Hawk looked out from behind the tree and searched the woods for the imminent threat but saw no one.

A sudden gust of wind rippled through the evergreens, and rain dripped through the foliage. Hawk decided to make his move, except Remi suddenly stood as if bracing herself.

A darkly dressed figure in a balaclava or ski mask emerged from between the trees and stalked toward her, flashing a knife. Remi avoided the strikes like a pro, surprising Hawk.

He rushed forward. “Freeze or I’ll shoot!” He aimed his weapon at her attacker and continued forward, stepping over a large branch, avoiding tree roots and dense foliage, never taking his eyes off her attacker, who then moved to stand behind Remi, using her as a shield. Hawk couldn’t shoot without endangering Remi.

He fired a warning shot, but the fighting didn’t stop. He rushed toward the struggle, ready to insert himself in the middle and stop the madness. Remi punched the assailant in the throat. He stumbled back, then slipped behind a tree before making a run for it. Hawk really wanted to go after the jerk, but he headed for Remi.

Leaning over her thighs, she gasped for breath.

“Are you hurt? Are you okay?” The question sounded ridiculous. Of course she wasn’t okay. But had she been cut with the knife or injured any other way? He looked her up and down.

“I’m okay.” She was still breathing hard too.

“You know how to fight,” he said.

Moisture beaded her face. “A little.”

He wanted to ask about her training, but she averted her gaze. Wary. Secretive. He understood. They had that in common. Don’t share too much. Don’t let anyone in. Defense was the best offense.

“We need to get out of here.” Gritting his teeth, he looked deeper into the surrounding woods that were unbelievably dark in the middle of the day.

Hawk wanted to go after her attacker, but he wouldn’t leave Remi.

Anger burning in her gaze, she took a step in the direction where the knife wielder had disappeared. “I can’t just let him get away, but these woods go on forever. A person could get lost. We would need search dogs to find him.”

She pressed her back against the tree, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

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