Hunted (Collapse Book 2)

by Riley Flynn

  “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Cam turned to Alex. “I’m staying with you. Let’s take some guns and end these sons of-”

  “No.” Alex surprised himself at how forceful the word sounded. “No, Cam. I mean, I appreciate it. But I need you to stay with these guys. If something happens, there’s nothing stopping the three of you getting to the farm. They need you. I don’t. It’s that simple. You’re too useful to lose, you know?”

  “Sounds like a crock to me. How do you even know that there’s only two of them? There could be more. Backup. You need help.”

  “It has to be them. Those same two we saw. There was just… something about them. If they had back up, they’d have caught us by now, no?”

  “I’ve only seen them travel in pairs,” Cam grumbled to himself, picking up his still-wet jacket. “But that means you’d still be outnumbered…”

  “Please, Cam. Just do it. Take the car and find somewhere safe. Down through the fields, among the trees.”

  Grumbling, his jaw working overtime on the gum, Cam shrugged. As good as an agreement.

  * * *

  Alex watched the car drive out into the storm toward a copse of trees which was not quite large enough to be a forest. Pine trees, too, Alex noted, so they would provide decent cover.

  When the dark had swallowed the car, he stepped back into the barn. He didn’t want to use a flashlight. It might be seen from far away. But he had work to do. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, lit up occasionally by the lightning, he surveyed the scene.

  The empty barn. They had packed up everything which might have betrayed their presence. Food, bedding, even the mess the dog had left in the corner. Hidden it all away.

  Finding one of the burned logs from the quenched fire, he checked the charcoaled edge against a finger. It left a thick black smudge. Perfect. Alex rubbed a piece of the burned wood across his face. He needed to hide in the barn. He couldn’t risk his face showing up.

  But the night was rarely black alone. As well as the charcoal, he leant down and swiped mud across his face. A mixed complexion, designed to fade back into the shadows. He hoped.

  Every few seconds, he ran back to the barn door and looked down across the road. Darkness. Always darkness. And, then, piercing through the gloom, two dimmed headlights. They were coming.

  No time for anything else. Alex grabbed his possessions. The radio. The flashlight. The Glock. He tucked them into various pockets and began to climb higher and higher up the straw bales. Only once he was almost up in the rafters did he stop, turn around and position himself to see down into the barn.

  The storm rumbled. The patter of the rain beat against the roof but couldn’t hide the sound of a car pulling up in the courtyard. Two doors closed. Footsteps approached the barn. The door squeaked along on its wheels as someone dragged it open. Two men walked in.

  Their flashlights flicked around the barn. Alex tucked his head in, hiding from view. One of the lights fell on to the roof above him, only for a second. It darted around, skipping on to an object – a hole in the roof, a bale of straw – examining it briefly and then moving on.

  “Byrne, I told you. Empty.”

  The voice was stiff and strong, carrying up into the highest part of the barn. When he was sure the flashlights had ended their search, Alex lifted his head. Only just. Only slightly. He eased himself upward, desperate not to make a noise. There they were, the two men. The same two.

  “Goddamn machine picked up something.”

  The white man’s red mustache lit up with the flashlight beam and he began circling the barn, examining the floor and the trough in detail.

  “Set her up, will you? You know I need to be sure. When was the last time you checked?”

  “You know. You were there. Nineteen minutes ago, by my watch.”

  “Nineteen goddamn minutes. They could be anywhere.”

  “If they were ever here, Byrne. If they were ever here.”

  Byrne stood up to his full height. He matched against his colleague. Same build, same suit, same overcoat dripping wet with the rain. Same tired eyes, Alex noted. The mustache and the skin color were the only real differences between the two men.

  “Set her up, Root. I don’t need to tell you how important this is.”

  Root and Byrne, Alex forced himself to remember. Root and Byrne.

  Byrne grew angrier by the second.

  “I said set the damn machine up. We don’t have all night.”

  Root turned on practiced heels and made for the door. Byrne was bending down near the trough.

  “It’s still warm, Root.” He laughed, a booming canon of a laugh. “Warm metal. In this storm. They were here, Root. I knew it.”

  Agent Root returned from the car, his coat freshly wet. He had the briefcase in his hand. As before, he bent down, opened it and removed the small satellite device.

  “Turn it on, connect. Search for heat signatures.” Byrne barked the orders.

  “Partners, Byrne. Remember. I’m on the line just as much as you are.”

  Snorting, stomping around the barn, Agent Byrne trained his flashlight over everything. He examined the bales where Joan had laid flat. He studied the stretch of floor where Finn had slept. Every inch of the barn was worthy of his inspection.

  “Connected yet?” he asked. “Have you connected?”

  “Byrne, I don’t need to explain this to you. It takes time.”

  “Make it quicker.”

  Crouched next to the satellite device, Root looked up to his partner. Alex strained his ears, trying to listen in, trying to parse their language. They were searching. But for what? For something. For someone.

  “If they knew we were re-purposing drones to cover our tracks, how do you think they would react? What’s left of them, anyway, considering half the fleet came down in the attack. How long would you expect to last? Do you want this done quickly or do you want it done right?”

  “Unless you do it right, the buyer won’t be interested. Keep quiet.”

  Root shook his head. They’re working alone, Alex thought. They’re up to something. But did that make them more dangerous?

  “Nearly connected.”

  “Search their heat signatures. She’s still up?”

  “Still in the air. Storm seems to be messing with the readings. You’re sure they were here?”

  “What else could it be? Damn sure it’s not the old man. You saw it flash up. Best signal we’ve had in days. It’s them.”

  “There’s a thousand bugs in this machine, believe me. Especially when you’re flying through the back door.”

  “You think it was a glitch? Can we really take that risk?”

  “If it’s a risk which drags us further and further south, it’s more of a risk to follow it.”

  “Our asses – our lives, Root – they rest on this recovery.”

  “I know.”

  “We take every bit of help we can get.”

  “If that bit of help costs us our asses, then what kind of help is that?”

  “Load up the log, we’ll see if this is a glitch.”

  Root tapped unseen buttons on the side of the device. It clicked and whirred, the dish on top rotating.

  “Twenty minutes ago. She picked up a heat signature and logged it. Went cold soon after. It’s been dark since then.”

  “How can it go dark? Did you check the visuals? What other kind of optics?”

  “In weather like this, when you don’t know what you’re searching for – or where – heat is the best option. We moved too soon after the warning. Could have been a glitch. Sent us out here for nothing.”

  “Or?”

  “Or, they were out here and we missed them.”

  Root looked around the room.

  “You said they had a fire here? What if they spotted the bird, put out the fire and drove off?”

  Alex curled up, hunching his shoulders, feeling the straw scratch at his cold neck. Got to be smaller, he thought, praying that the men didn�
��t opt to search the barn.

  “Maybe. But how did they spot her in this weather?”

  “Could be anything, Byrne. Use your imagination.”

  “If that’s true, they could be anywhere by now. Twenty miles in any direction.”

  “If you want to tell them we’ve botched the recovery, that’s fine. I think we should use a touch more discretion.”

  “They’ve got bigger problems to worry about than us right now.”

  “I don’t want to bank on that.”

  “You don’t think the war isn’t attracting most of their attention?”

  “I barely think this is a war, Byrne. They’re too busy fighting yesterday’s war. Dregs fighting dregs.”

  “You might be right, Root, but you think too much.”

  Root began to pack up the device.

  “We’re done here.”

  “We’re done when I say we’re goddamn done, Root.”

  “The barn is empty, Byrne. We’re wasting time. We already know there’s nothing here. The old man couldn’t have helped them. You saw to that. We’re wasting time.”

  “What if they’re still here, Root? Hiding? Did you think of that?”

  “Then burn the whole place to the ground. I’m sure that old man hasn’t suffered enough.”

  Alex felt the dry straw against his skin. Kindling. It would turn into an inferno in mere seconds, roasting him alive. He looked around. The only exit was through the agents. A rock and a hard place.

  Byrne was inspecting every inch of the barn again. Searching for something. For some clue. Some hint at where his quarry had fled. Alex heard the familiar click of a lighter, saw the faint flicker of orange light speckled on the wall. The man had a flame ready to go.

  Alex dug his fingers into the straw bales. He was sitting on ten tons of tinder, he wouldn’t stand a chance. The whole farm would be burned down in minutes. He felt scared. He felt alone. He felt desperate. Right now, jumping down and trying to either fight the men or run right through them was beginning to look really appealing. His breath quickened. He’d have to choose soon.

  “Byrne. Listen.” Root’s voice sounded tired and put upon. “We only have so much time. We can only access her when it’s dark. Don’t waste my time and yours, don’t risk it all like that. We’ll retreat, watch the roads, and wait for them to make a mistake. Plus, you set a fire now and the thing will be burning for hours. You’ll announce us to everyone in the area.”

  “We’d send a message.” Byrne laughed, a sound which stilled the air in Alex’s lungs and lowered his body temperature ten degrees. “They’ll know we’ve been here.”

  “And then they’d become unpredictable. Please, Byrne. Let’s try and do this with a bit of subtlety, please. An ounce of professionalism.”

  The orange light went out. Alex heaved a sigh of relief and stopped. Had he breathed too loud? All he could hear was the sound of the men packing up their equipment.

  The device was back in the briefcase. Root waited beside the barn door. Silence.

  “Byrne.”

  Root waited for his partner.

  “Fine.” Byrne spat.

  The spittle washed away in the rain. The agents left. Alex rolled onto his back and listened to the departing car fade into the sound of the storm.

  Between the falling rain and the fire that had almost been set, Alex didn’t know how to feel. He’d come so close to being burned alive, almost by accident. Had it even been worth it? Had he learned anything? He’d put a face to the men, heard their voices. Now, he knew, they were after something. He didn’t know what, but he knew they weren’t going to stop until they recovered whatever they’d lost.

  Or whoever they’d lost. The rain cackled heartily against the roof. Alex had never heard anything so sweet as the sound of the departing car. The orchestra of the storm was playing a celebration song. The wet and the cold suddenly felt like life. Better than burning, at least. Now, he had to go and find his friends.

  Chapter 20

  Alex felt his hands pressing into the rough, dry straw. Fifteen minutes since the agents had left, since their car had disappeared into the night. Pushing himself up, crawling across to the edge of the stack of bales on which he was perched, he took the radio from his pocket. Turned it on. A burst of static.

  “Timmy”—His voice a whisper—“you there?”

  The radio did nothing. Alex checked the volume dials, the channel switches. Exactly as they should be. The red light showed the battery had life left, though it didn’t say how much. He tried again.

  “Timmy. It’s Alex. You there?”

  Two spurts of white noise crackled through the speaker. Quiet. Then two more.

  “Timmy, I don’t know the code. Just speak into the radio. They’re gone.”

  His finger held down the transmission button.

  “You should come back to the barn, anyway. They’re watching the roads. They won’t check this place again.”

  “Ale- Someon- -elp.”

  The words were chopped up and ruined, lost in the evening air.

  Something was wrong.

  * * *

  The words were obscured but the meaning was clear. Alex’s friends were in trouble.

  Almost an hour had passed since he had seen them last. Anything could have happened in that time. Trudging through the muddy barren fields, making his way toward the copse of pine trees where he had told them to hide, Alex added this regret to the list. His responsibility. His error. His mistake.

  If they had been hurt, it was his fault.

  Alex quickened his pace, accelerating his steps as he began to get more and more worried.

  His sneakers were coated in dirt and mud, wet and made sticky by the rain. Each step was difficult, wearing him down. For anyone who already knew where to look, the tire marks were just about visible. Alex had to wait for a flash of lightning to illuminate the tracks and point him in the right direction. He didn’t dare use the flashlight. Root and Byrne might not have gone far.

  The rain lashed against Alex’s face. It splattered into his eyes every time he looked up at the skies, searching for a glimpse of the aircraft which could be spying on him, picking out his body heat and giving away his position. He welcomed the cold. It helped him hide.

  Still half a mile from the copse, the words over the radio haunted Alex.

  He had definitely heard his name. A word which sounded like ‘help.’ And nothing else. Just static.

  Alex tightened the collar of his jacket up around his neck and trudged on into the night.

  * * *

  The pine trees rose up out of nothing. It was not the only collection of trees. In the flat empty space of the world around him, Alex could spot at least ten other groupings, tucked into corners between fields and beside roads. People could be hidden in any one of them.

  But the fresh tire tracks led Alex to his friends.

  Standing on the outside of the woods, an area half the size of a football field, Alex could hear voices. People were speaking. He ducked down, trying to hide. His face was still painted dark, his clothes dim enough to nestle him into the shadows. He crept forward on his toes.

  There were not voices, he realized. Rather, there was one voice. A panicked, staccato voice talking to other people. Talking at other people. Alex moved closer.

  The car appeared in front of him. It was dark and empty. Abandoned. Alex tried the trunk but it made a sound. He stopped. The voice paused for a beat before resuming. The pistol would have to do.

  As Alex approached the source of the voice, he knew it belonged to a stranger. A woman. She was desperate. Stepping between the trees, pausing behind every trunk, he was soon close enough to make out the words.

  “Evil! Murderers!”

  The woman hissed and spat. Alex heard her footsteps. She moved back and forth.

  A flash of lightning lit up the world. There she was, standing with a shotgun, pointing it at three familiar faces. Timmy, Joan, and Cam all had their hands on their head
s, kneeling on the wet ground, listening to their captor. The thunder boomed.

  “Don’t lie to me!”

  “I didn’t… we’re not-”

  Timmy was cut short as the woman slapped him across the face.

  “I said don’t lie to me! Dirty, no-good murderers. You’ll pay. You’ll pay!”

  There wasn’t much space between the pines. Alex moved as close as he could, worried about being spotted. He loosened the holster, removed the gun. The woman didn’t stand still. He couldn’t get a clear shot.

  Her movement was erratic. Back and forth, snapping this way and that. She stood up and crouched down. She swung around, pointing at the storm. But the shotgun stayed pointing at Joan. Then Timmy. Then Cam.

  “You will pay for what you did. No murderers shall live. They must be punished. Punished!”

  She was wearing coveralls three sizes too big. A set designed for a man. Someone twice her size. The fabric hung off her arms, billowing and catching on the howling wind.

  “Listen to me now, sinners. Murderers. You will call your friends and have them come again and we’ll make sure to welcome them with a bang.”

  She laughed, hurling her head back.

  “We’ll welcome them!” Another laugh. “And they’ll pay and you’ll pay. It’s what Daddy would have wanted!”

  Stay still, Alex urged under his breath. Stay still.

  But she kept moving. Alex couldn’t be sure he had a shot. If he missed, she might blow someone’s face off. The risk was too great. He had to find another way to stop her. Get that gun out of her hand.

  Alex moved through the pines, creeping to the side of the woman. He moved slower, worried she might see him out of the corner of her eye. But she was too swept up in the moment.

  “Listen, lady, I don’t know-”

  She slapped Timmy again.

  “You can deny it all you want. I know you’re with them. Everyone’s with them. The murderers! You’re all murderers. You should have stayed away. Daddy said to stay away!”