Stacking the Deck (Redemption Club Book 1)

by Anne Marie Becker

  She took a few precious minutes to scout the periphery for the trail Chelsea and Loretta had made when they’d presumably left one of the other two cabins. Evidence of their path wasn’t hard to find. It appeared they’d gone off together, in the same direction. Maybe they were betting on strength in numbers. It would make it easier for Skye to find them, but also easier for the hunters to pick them off.

  So she made her trail in the opposite direction, bending branches, kicking up dirt, and making light boot impressions where the pine needles weren’t so thick, so that even the most amateur hunter should be able to track her. Hopefully, that someone was armed. She could use another weapon.

  Then she circled back around and selected a ten-foot-high rock outcropping on which to hide and wait. Waiting was the hardest part. But it would be worth it if she could take down a hunter and gain a weapon, preferably something with some firepower. Not only would it improve her odds of survival, but she could then help Loretta and Chelsea with more than just guidance. It was a risk, but she was betting the six men would split up, since they weren’t of the pack mentality. She already knew Finn would be out for himself. And if the others had paid handsomely to hunt her, well, these men would likely be reluctant to share the prize.

  Right now, her biggest enemy was time. The light was waning. Luckily, the days were longer this time of year and she had another half hour or so before twilight hit. But then, the hunters wouldn’t be able to fall into her trap. Unless they were stupid enough to tote flashlights. One could hope.

  Her gamble paid off a few minutes later.

  She gripped the knife Finn had left her as a man in a coyote mask made his way forward slowly, stealthily. He was a pretty good hunter, stopping every so often to listen and even sniff the air, but she was better. And she had more to fight for. When he was beneath her ledge, she pounced.

  She landed on his back, and gravity and momentum did the rest, taking them both down. Unfortunately, he had quick reflexes and landed on a knee, shifting his body weight and throwing her over his head. She landed on her back and he was on top of her in an instant, but his pistol had flown out of reach in the initial attack.

  They wrestled, his hands wrapping around her throat as he gained the high ground. She landed a couple elbow jabs and kicks, and one hit his nose. Blood poured down his face and into his mouth, lining it in gruesome red.

  “You bitch!” he said. He bared his teeth, stained with the crimson of his blood. “You’re all mine. You aren’t so tough after all. I may even have to ask for my money back, unless you make this worth my while.” One of his hands left her neck to squeeze her breast. She ignored the pain. His other hand continued to push down on her neck, against her windpipe. From beneath him, it appeared it was a coyote trying to maul her face.

  She gritted her teeth against the insult and the pain and inched her fingertips down her side. The knife had fallen nearby. She’d seen the glint of metal from the corner of her eye. He didn’t notice as her fingers searched the pine needle floor and located the weapon, grasped the bone handle, and jammed it into the side of his neck. His jaw dropped in shock, but she didn’t let go. Blood spurted from the wound and he fell to the opposite side, his hands letting go of her as he grabbed for his neck. She used his sideways momentum to roll him off her, pulling the knife out as gravity took him the rest of the way.

  She scrambled to her feet and ran for his pistol. The chamber was fully loaded. Thank you, God. She aimed it at the hunter as he tried to roll to his side, but he gasped and lay back again. A twinge of mercy tightened her throat, a feeling she might have experienced for any wounded animal, but she didn’t finish him off. If she shot him, the other hunters would come running. And he wasn’t worth the bullet, or any more of her time.

  He took his last, gurgling breath a second later, as she retrieved the small pack he’d dropped when she’d pounced. It contained a full canteen and another hunting knife but no cell phone. She snatched up the whole thing and ran, feeling more confident with a gun in her hand and a knife in her pocket. She traveled as fast as she could, knowing her life, and possibly Chelsea’s and Loretta’s, depended on it.

  “I told you she was magnificent,” Finn said with pride. He and Ryan had been close on Coyote’s heels as they tracked Skye, but Finn had suspected she was planning to trick them somehow. He’d let the other man spring the trap, then stayed back to watch the fun. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t take her down with a shot in the back? Wouldn’t have been very sporting.” Finn had held Ryan’s arm to keep him from taking a shot during the scuffle. They’d let her go, content to hunt her later. He didn’t want the fun to be over that quickly.

  Crouched beside him, Ryan shot him a knowing look. “And one less man in the hunt. I suppose that makes you happy.”

  “It should make you happy, too. His payment already cleared.”

  “Maybe taking her down isn’t my goal.”

  “Then why are you here?” Finn knew the answer, had known since Ryan had called him after the failed trial in the theater. Ryan was here to hunt him. The Stones wouldn’t stand for what they’d seen as a betrayal by one of their own, no matter what Finn could promise them. It was kill or be killed, which made this hunt all the more exhilarating.

  “I’m guessing it’s time to split up, friend,” Ryan said, adding a wry twist of his lips at the endearment.

  “Intrepidus vive ferociter ludeque.”

  This time, Ryan repeated the salutation. “And may the best man win.”

  More careful to disguise her path, Skye moved in wide, concentric circles as she returned to the cabins. If this was to be a fair fight, she could use more supplies, and she was certain most of the hunters would have fanned out by now, eager for the chase. But she was equally certain that someone might have been left behind to guard the campsite.

  About twenty yards from camp, in a cluster of aspens and scrubby bushes, she hit pay dirt. The guy was wearing a ridiculous cougar mask and hadn’t bothered to disguise the spicy smell of his aftershave. Idiot. And a rookie mistake for someone who claimed to be a hunter. But it was Skye’s win, and she’d take whatever advantage she could get.

  One down, five to go.

  And each man she took down meant better odds for Chelsea and Loretta, too.

  Cougar was smart in that he’d chosen to stake out the supply shed and the sole vehicle on the campgrounds. Definite lures. In his hands was a knife. It was a big knife, but size didn’t matter. Her pistol would be the most effective way to dispense with the threat, but it would also be the noisiest. And she wanted answers, if Cougar had them.

  As she shifted closer, she tossed a rock into the distance to attract his attention as she used the bedding of old pine needles to disguise her footfalls. His attention diverted, she crept close, her knife in her hands as she slid up behind and placed him in a headlock, pressing the blade to his throat just under the edge of his mask. He dropped his own knife in surprise.

  “Don’t move, asshole,” she hissed in his ear. The only movement was in his throat as he swallowed. “Where are the other girls?”

  “Fuck you.”

  She jerked back on his head so that he was straining to breathe. A drop of blood dripped from a small wound where her knife had pricked him. “Wrong answer. Let’s try another question. Where are the keys to the shed?” She lightened the pressure on his windpipe so that he could reply.

  “Finn has them.”

  She figured as much. “You don’t have a copy?”

  “No. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you, bitch.” He began to struggle, his arms whipping out and his legs kicking, trying to get to her.

  “Then you’re no good to me.” She finished him with the knife, rather than having to hold him while he struggled to breathe. She had no way of restraining him, no way to know he wouldn’t come after her the moment she turned her back. It was kill or be killed, and he’d made his choice simply by choosing to be part of this hunt. Did this guy
have friends, family, kids? Did any of them know what he did for a hobby?

  Skye wondered how Jared would react to knowing she’d killed two men today. She was dismayed to realize how much she cared. Until today, she’d been able to count on one hand the men she’d killed. If tonight went as planned, she’d triple the body count, and something like that should leave a scar on her soul that nobody could erase.

  Shoving the cougar aside, she pocketed his knife and eyed the car. She could hotwire it, but she had no idea where Chelsea and Loretta were. If she wanted to help them, she’d have to remain on foot. Besides, for all she knew, Finn could have set the car to blow the moment she started the engine.

  Instead, she crept to the shed. The lock was sturdy, but basic. Still, without the key, it would take too much time to pick it and she didn’t have her lock pick kit. She eyed it a moment, considered her options, and opted for speed.

  Firing the gun, she blasted the lock open and hurried to shove what she needed into Coyote’s backpack. The sound would alert others to her location, but had allowed her access to water bottles—unlike the canteen, they were sealed, thank you, God—guns, ammo, and… She whistled softly. Her heart beat faster as she spied a lightweight compound bow and a quiver of carbon arrows. She slung both across her shoulder. She began to leave but stopped to eye the drugs in the drawers and, in a moment of impetuousness, picked up a nearby gas can and doused everything in sight, then lit a match.

  Grinning, she walked away from the fiery shed and into the woods beyond, in the direction the other women had gone. The evening sun was low in the sky, and their trail would be hidden by darkness soon. She hoped to find them before then, and maybe rid them of more hunters along the way.

  Two down, four to go.

  Jared’s lungs refused to work for several long seconds as the report of the gun echoed through the woods. It was as if the bullet pierced a dam in his head and allowed a flood of images to burst forth and suck him downstream—pictures of what could be going on at that very moment across the forest. Chelsea, Skye, Loretta. Any one of them could have been wounded—or worse, killed—by that shot. Or there could be other vulnerable innocents out there, for all he knew. Other women, or even men or children may have been taken.

  Damn Finn Tucker. Damn Ryan Stone. They wouldn’t get away with this.

  Or maybe Skye or one of the others had shot someone in self-defense. He clung to that hope as his feet began to carry him forward again.

  He’d parked half an hour ago on the main road and planned to hike toward where the cabins were located, according to the map on his phone. A billow of smoke and the sound of ammo going off in the distance had him hurrying his steps, especially when an explosion followed. By his estimate, the position of the campground was nearly two miles away.

  When he arrived in the wide circle of cabins twenty minutes later, the area was abandoned. A man in a cougar mask was dead, his throat cut. Skye’s work or a fellow, greedy hunter who’d offed the competition? Either way, it was one less enemy to worry about.

  But when he came across the smoldering remains of what must have been another smaller cabin or shed, he smiled. Based on the damage done, he’d guess it had been Skye’s work, which meant she was alive and kicking ass. Or maybe it was wishful thinking. Still, he doubted any of the hunters would have blown up their own campsite. The load on his shoulders lessened, but there was still work to do.

  He searched the rest of the area quickly but carefully, looking into each of the cabins, which contained thin mats and buckets that had evidently served as beds and latrines. He could only imagine Chelsea living in this manner. Finn had treated these girls like animals, and now he was hunting them as such. How many masked hunters were out there besides Finn?

  In the last cabin, he found the body of a man he identified as Tom Hamilton. The body was cool, but rigor hadn’t set in. This was a recent killing. He checked to see that he still, in fact, had cell reception and made a quick call to Sheriff Anderson to bring him up to speed. Anderson promised a search and rescue helicopter was on its way. Jared sent up a prayer that Skye and the others had the strength they needed to outwit and outrun the hunters a little longer.

  Did she know her uncle had been killed, unable to defend himself as he’d been gunned down with his hands still tied behind his back? Had she been left to fend for herself, as helpless as Tom?

  But she had a secret weapon that nobody, not even Skye, knew about. She had Jared as a partner.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  “Shh.” Chelsea tried to soothe Loretta, though she thought she might throw up at the sight of the wound. “I know it must hurt. Oh God, oh God, oh God.” She pressed her fingertips to her eyelids and tried to get a grip, to gather her thoughts and come up with a plan.

  Tears streaming down her face, Loretta bit her own hand to keep from screaming. The steel trap had been covered in pine needles, in a shadowed area of a tree near the creek bed. It had looked like the perfect place to get some water and take a quick rest. Apparently, a hunter had assumed the same thing and left the snap-type trap to catch the unwary.

  “I think it’s broken,” Loretta bit out between clenched teeth. Since her first scream, she’d been trying to keep the pain inside, but she had to be in agony, her ankle trapped in the steel grip. Her lower leg was at an awkward angle. Worse, Chelsea didn’t know how to release the trap, or if it could hurt Loretta worse to do so. Couldn’t opening it cause extreme blood loss or something? She thought she’d seen that on a cable show once.

  Chelsea sank down onto the ground next to Loretta and held her hand tight. “It probably is.” But a broken ankle would be the least of their worries once night fell. She leaned over to wet a scrap she’d torn from the edge of her shirt and pressed it to Loretta’s forehead. The sky had darkened to a soft indigo lined with deep orange, and the first stars were beginning to twinkle. It would be full night soon.

  “Go,” Loretta said, her voice weak and trembling. “You can get farther without me, anyway. And you have no choice now.”

  “I have a choice,” Chelsea said stubbornly. “I can stay and defend us.”

  “Without a weapon? We’ll both be sitting ducks. Please.”

  Chelsea didn’t even have to think about what was the right course for her. She shook her head. “We’re in this together, and we have been since those assholes took us. We’re not going down without a fight.” She’d rip out throats with her ragged fingernails if she had to.

  A few minutes later, Loretta passed out and received some blessed relief. Chelsea was thankful her friend wasn’t awake to note the sudden quieting of the birds. It was as if the entire forest had gone still. There was only the sound of Chelsea and Loretta breathing, Loretta’s inhalations raspy with pain, when Chelsea picked up another faint sound. She let go of Loretta’s hand and stood over her as Bear came out of the trees.

  He approached with caution, a freaking bow in his hands, with an arrow notched. He grinned as he spied Chelsea and an unconscious Loretta. “Well, well, look who I caught in my trap. Not one, but two animals. I see Loretta’s had enough fun,” he said as he shoved his mask to the top of his head. “She barely gave me the time of day at the ranch, but she’ll sure pay attention to me now.”

  “Only because you’ve got a captive audience,” Chelsea shot back.

  “Maybe if she’d paid a little more attention to her lessons at the ranch, and here, and less time dreaming of a life that was never possible, she would have seen the makings of a perfect trap and avoided it.” He took a step forward.

  Chelsea shifted to keep herself between him and Loretta. “You’re not going to touch her.”

  Bear smirked. “Relax, honey. You’ll get your turn. And there’ll be enough of me left for Skye, too, when she comes along. I figure she’ll be following your trail. Since the others went after her, I came this way. Now you get to be bait.”

  Loretta had spoken of a woman she knew, a friend. Her name had been Sk
ye. Bear and Finn had taken her, too? Instead of feeling helpless, she felt hope surge through her. According to Loretta, Skye was a kick-ass kind of woman who’d been trained in survival techniques. Surely, she could help. “Another woman’s out here?”

  “Aw, cheer up. I would have killed her whether you were bait or not. And after she’s dead, maybe I’ll let you go again, just for kicks. Got to prolong the fun after all the time I invested in you, don’t I? As for Loretta, I don’t suppose she’s much good to either of us anymore.” He aimed the bow and arrow at Loretta and pulled the string taut.

  The girls had stayed together, as far as Skye could tell from the various tracks that had led from the cabin that had likely been theirs. She’d found a broken twig here, a long strand of Chelsea’s golden hair there. As long as she didn’t find them dead, she still had hope. At any cost, even her own life, she had to save them. For Mark, for Jared. For herself.

  She’d been moving cautiously, aware that at any moment, one of the remaining four hunters might decide to take a shot, but when she heard a woman’s scream, she kicked her pace into a run and didn’t see the hunter waiting behind a tree to jump out at her.

  With a roar, the guy in a tiger mask was on her in an instant. He also seemed high as a kite. Unfortunately, it was more of the PCP variety than marijuana. He fought like a jungle cat, clawing at her clothes and scratching, punching, trying to bite her as if he were a frenzied animal.

  Skye channeled her adrenaline rush, using it to focus, like she had on that Malibu rooftop, on the senses that mattered. But the man was truly all over her, attacking from all angles as she struggled beneath him, barely avoiding his teeth. She managed to jab him in the eye through the slit in the mask and he howled with pain but came back at her, slicing with his knife now. But before he could land more than a shallow cut, his weight was gone and another’s roar of anger filled the twilight.