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“Passed here less than two minutes ago.”

“Why didn’t you stop it?”

“I tried.”

He turns.

Bullet holes tear through the side of his SUV.

“They opened fire.”

“Are you hit?”

“No.”

Vega arrives behind us.

“Where are they going?”

The deputy points toward a ridge.

“Old airstrip is on the other side.”

I hear it.

An engine.

Not a vehicle.

Aircraft.

Taylor looks at me.

Arthur looks at me.

The sound grows louder.

Somewhere beyond that ridge, a plane is preparing to leave.

And the cargo van is heading straight toward it.

I start running back to the truck.

“Sean!”

I turn.

Vega is already moving toward her SUV.

“Let’s get those bastards.”

I don’t argue.

Not this time.

Because somewhere ahead of us are five missing girls.

Somewhere ahead of us is Greg Maddox.