Page 57 of Hollow Trace

He pushed onto his ass, gritting his teeth as she wrapped his torso, the resulting ache eventually fading enough that he was able to stand without face-planting. Wynn turned to Scout, but she waved her away.

Wynn crossed her arms. “That’s a bullet wound.”

Scout nodded. “Which isn’t that bad and can wait until we’re home. We need to get moving before Quinn’s SAR buddies show up.”

Quinn shrugged. “I don’t know. A chopper ride sounds pretty nice…”

His voice trailed off as a low growl surged through the settling dust. He stared down the mountain, scanning the hillside as headlights cut through the tree line, a couple vehicles rounding the far bend, heading their way. Gravel crunched beneath tires, dirt and mud spraying out the sides.

He grabbed Scout’s hand, digging in his pouch for the car keys. “Call me crazy, but I doubt that’s my SAR buddies.”

Scout shook her head. “Pretty sure we’ve seen those SUVs before.”

“We should be running. Now.”

“There’s just one problem.” Scout met his gaze. “There’s only one road out, and they’re on it.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The growl of the inbound engines carried across the ridge, those headlights quickly closing in, as Scout headed for the tree line, the dense, dark timber standing like monoliths against the cloud-bruised sky. Quinn followed, Brea on his heels as Scout quickstepped along the shadowed path, every root and rock threatening to drop her.

Cold mountain air misted through the trees, the heat from the explosions creating a dense layer of fog that curled down the ridge, quickly cloaking the landscape in a thick gray cloud. Crushed granite and sulfur carried on the slight breeze, the scent a constant reminder of what they’d left behind.

Scout slowed as they drew closer to where they’d left the vehicles, Quinn’s ragged breathing tightening her chest. She wasn’t sure how he was still moving, let alone jogging along the trail, Sig at the ready, constantly scanning the area, keeping Brea close.

Scout made a mental note to show him exactly how impressed she was later, flicking off the low light as she neared the adjoining gravel road. Voices sounded from beyond the trees, more beams shining through the foliage.

Raising her fist, she crouched just back from the edge of the road, heart pounding, dread settling unforgivingly in her stomach.

Eight men.

All heavily armed.

Black tactical gear with comms units and HELIOS watches. Proof they weren’t SAR or curious hikers.

Quinn knelt behind her, Neve crawling up to her left side. The forest fell into an eerie silence, as if even the crickets realized the inherent danger. Scout glanced at their vehicles. They’d parked at the end of the spur, both facing down the logging road in case they needed a quick exit, and hidden beneath a heavy camo net. What they’d hoped would conceal them from drones or any sentries looking down from the ridge.

Up close like this…

Neve’s jaw muscle jumped as she made a few hand signals, the rest of the team fanning out around them, rifles ready, any hint of fatigue buried beneath steel, cold determination. They waited, watching the men huddle around the two black SUVs, as their lead guy walked over to Coulter’s Gladiator.

He tore off the camo net from the front end, peering inside before doing the same to their SUV, twirling his finger in the air, pointing at the engine blocks. One of his buddies cycled his rifle, the click-clack cutting through the settling dust as he stared at the truck, slowly lifting his weapon to his shoulder.

No time for discussion. Scout simply grabbed the nine-bang flash bang off her vest — the only one Gus had managed to procure — pulled the tab, letting it cook for a few seconds before lobbing it into the fray. It kicked off the gravel, rolling several feet, coming to a stop in the middle of the men’s lopsided circle a heartbeat later.

The mercs scattered, booking it for the tree line, but the extra distance didn’t help as the magnesium flash ignited, burning the night into stark, white-hot daylight for one agonizing second, before the first concussive thump pounded through Scout’s chest, stealing her breath as an ear-piercing shrill rang through the air.

Shouts erupted along the road, each consecutive charge seemingly louder than the last, crumpling the men in a matter of seconds. They disappeared into the smoky fog, the odd boot poking up through the vapor. The last bang lingered, rattling through Scout’s chest, the high-pitched wail still sounding in her head.

She gripped her rifle, blinking back the fuzziness as she and Neve burst out from the underbrush, the rest of her team tight on her six. Smoke choked the clearing, the headlights burning the cloud into a glowing white mass, cloaking the downed men in that annoyingly bright mist. A flash of movement flickered in her peripheral vision. One of the mercs rose from behind the second SUV, what had likely shielded him from the worst of the effects, gaze not quite focused, but his rifle at the ready.

Two trigger pulls, and he dropped, the recoil slamming into Scout’s shoulder. She held her position, continuously searching the glaring smoke for any other movement, butting one asshole in the head with her rifle when he groaned, pushed onto his elbows.

Behind her, the truck roared to life, Neve, Wynn, and Zadie untangling the netting from the rear of the vehicle as Quinn and Brea worked on freeing the SUV from its tangle of mesh. Scout slowly backed up, gun sweeping the area in front of her, that whine still playing in her head.

Twin scuffs had her turning, inhaling sharply as two mercs tripped out of the opposite tree line. Mud splattered their clothes as they lifted their rifles, sighting Quinn’s back as he released the last of the netting. She aimed, aware she couldn’t hit them both before they fired, not with the way they were stacked beside each other, their armor narrowing any viable shot to mere inches.

“Quinn!”