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His hand engulfed hers. “You okay?”
“I am now.” She gripped his hand fiercely, drawing on his solid strength. Whatever happened, they’d face it together.
Above them, Ty lowered the trapdoor. The rug made a shushing noise as he dragged back over their exit. They were on their own. Jo gripped her flashlight tighter, its yellow beam stabbing into the smothering darkness.
Griff’s teeth flashed white in the gloom. “Let’s move.”
They hurried along the dank passage, the earth muffling sounds from above. Frigid air licked Jo’s neck as cobwebs clung to her skin. She clamped her mouth shut and pulled her hat over her exposed ears, quelling the rising panic in her gut.
It’s okay. We’ll make it.
The only noise in the cramped space was the muted tread of their boots on compacted earth and the rise and fall of their breathing. Finally, Griff’s flashlight illuminated a ladder and trapdoor up ahead. Thank God.
“Wait here.” He handed her his flashlight and climbed up.
Wood creaked under his shoulder as he shoved the trapdoor open, daylight exploding in.
Shielding her eyes, Jo prayed there was no one up there.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Griff, what, wait—”
But with a lithe boost, he was gone. Pink-tinged early morning light filled the space where he’d been only moments ago. Jo clutched her waist, her gaze locked on the square of daylight. Come on. Come on.
“It’s clear.” Griff hung over the edge, blocking out the light.
Jo’s gloved hand flew to her mouth, relief swamping her. He was unhurt. Jesus. She quickly scaled the ladder, disturbing bushes clumped with snow as she exited the tunnel. Griff re-secured the trapdoor and Jo tossed loose bracken back over it to conceal the wood.
Heart racing, she followed Griff out from the overhang. He hunkered down behind a rock clad in yellow algae. They’d ascended slightly and Jo found herself looking down at the red V of the cabin roof.
He pulled binoculars from inside his jacket and pressed them to his eyes. “Shit.”
“What?” His tone chilled her blood. “What is it?”
“Look.” He handed her the binoculars.
A line of four men in white, all-weather camo approached the cabin, weapons raised. Three heavyset dogs strained on leashes, snarling.
She grabbed Griff’s arm. “We have to go—”
The cabin exploded in a fiery orange ball, hurling the men backward into the snow. Black smoke roiled up from the center of the structure, followed quickly by the hungry snap of flames. “God, Wyatt, Sophie—” Jo fell backward as shock made it impossible for her to scramble to her feet. “We have to help them.”
Griff wrenched her to her feet, her jacket bunched in his fists. “We have to get this information into the right hands.”
She looked to her side. A thick plume of smoke spiraled upward. The crack of wood succumbing carried on the wintry air. No. Jo blinked. “Griff… the others…”
“Are looking after themselves. Wyatt and Ty know what they are doing. We have to have faith in their ability to look after each other and Sophie.”
Sweat chilled her spine.
“Jo?”
She nodded, the thickness in her throat making speech impossible. Griff was right, but what sacrifice had Sophie and her family made for them?
Engines thundered.
Griff released her and Jo lifted the binoculars once more, acid rising in her throat. But she needed to know.
