Page 19 of Gatling
Now that I was in bed, that fatigue suddenly vanished. Every little sound outside made me flinch. The hoot of an owl. Thescrape of a tree branch against the roof in a slight breeze. The chorus of high-pitched yip-yips from coyotes.
Living in town, I was used to a different set of sounds. The rumble of car engines outside my window. The drone of the television in the apartment below me. The shout of children’s laughter from the neighborhood across the street. The hum of the refrigerator.
I rolled over again, burrowing into Ryker’s pillow. I couldn’t decide if it was better or worse to be so far removed from the rest of the world. Knowing that two bikers were on watch outside didn’t exactly put me at ease either.
One hour after another dragged by with agonizing slowness. In the distance, I heard the growl of two motorcycle engines. The flash of a headlight swept across the bedroom wall. Slipping to the window, I peeked out.
The silhouette of two bikers emerged from the trees. Even though it was too dark to make out details, one of them had to be Vlad, judging by his size.
This must be the shift change that Ryker had been talking about.
The bikers exchanged quick hand shakes. Then the first set of bikers took off down the road, and the new arrivals melted into the trees. No matter how hard I strained my eyes amid the dark, I couldn’t see any sign of them.
The clock on the wall showed it was nearly one o’clock in the morning. Sunrise was still hours away. Even if I couldn’t sleep, closing my eyes would be better than nothing. As I turned to climb back into bed, a thud echoed in the cabin.
My heart lurched.
Usually, Ryker barely made any noise at all. And he certainly wouldn’t make noise at this time of night, knowing that it might disturb my attempt to sleep.
It could have been the trees, I reasoned, knocking against the roof. Maybe a branch fell.
But it sounded like it came from inside the cabin.
I tiptoed to the door and eased it open a few inches, peering out. It was so dark that I could barely make out the hulking shapes of the furniture. No sign of Ryker on the armchair or the couch.
Venturing out of the room, I peered around the corner into the kitchen area.
Ryker stood next to the window with a hunting rifle pressed into the crook of his shoulder. Pale moonlight filtered through the glass, outlining his profile in silver. He looked like a lion waiting to pounce, every muscle taut with barely restrained power.
“Ryker?” I whispered.
No response. He looked like a statue, frozen. He didn’t even blink.
I tugged the sleeves of my borrowed hoodie down over my hands, waiting, listening. I’d never seen him like this before. During his service in the military, Noah said that Ryker was a skilled marksman with deadly accuracy. It made sense, after so many years spent hunting game in Appalachian territory back home.
But watching him in action, poised, observing, was mesmerizing and chilling at the same time.
After a minute or two, Ryker shook his head and blinked rapidly, as if waking up from a trance. He stared down at the gun in his hands with a bewildered expression, and quickly set it aside on the kitchen table. Flexing his hands, he scrubbed his palms on his jeans, like they were sweaty, or dirty.
Then his gaze landed on me.
“Kelsie,” he said, his voice a dry, faint rasp. “What are you doin' up?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I said.
Something in Ryker’s eyes made my stomach churn. He looked…lost. Confused.
“Are you okay?” I ventured, carefully. If he wasn’t willing to open up to Noah about something that was bothering him—his best friend, his only friend, in the entire world—then he probably wouldn't open up to me either.
But I had to try.
“I’m fine,” Ryker said in a monotone voice.
He turned his attention to the window again, bracing his back against the wall.
“Did you see someone out there?” I asked, gesturing to the rifle.
“What?” Ryker’s gaze snapped away from the window and back to me. A frown pulled the corners of his mouth down, drawing his brows together. Then understanding crossed his features. “No, I was…no, I ain't seen nobody. Go back to bed.”
