Big Sky Showdown

by Sharon Dunn

  Zane stepped into the clearing, holding up his hands in a surrender gesture. “Don’t mean to bother you gentlemen. But we need your help getting back to Fort Madison.”

  He noticed that one of the men’s eyes were round with fear. Of him? Did he look that threatening?

  “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m a guide for Big Sky Outfitters.”

  “You ran into some difficulty, huh?” said the second man. His voice sounded stiff and unnatural.

  Both men seemed nervous, much more so than he’d expect since they outnumbered him and were armed.

  The men’s guns were propped off to one side by a tree. Zane wondered if the men were poaching and feared getting caught.

  “I don’t want to make any trouble. I’m not the game warden.” Zane held his palms toward the men in a surrender gesture. “We just need some help.”

  The first man kept angling his eyes off to the side but not moving his head. Zane felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he searched where the man seemed to be looking. He half expected to see a dead animal or a carcass. All he saw was bare ground.

  “Who’s we anyway?” said the second hunter.

  Zane glanced over his shoulder. For some reason, Heather hadn’t followed him into the clearing. Now he was on high alert. He took several steps back and saw a flash of movement in the trees.

  This was an ambush, a trap. The second hunter looked directly at him and mouthed the word run.

  A shot was fired and the hunter who had warned him slipped off the log he’d been sitting on and fell over, blood flowing from his shoulder. The first hunter dived toward where their guns were. But now there was only one gun there instead of two. Maybe Heather had taken the other one.

  The hunters must have been told to act natural so Zane’s guard would be down while Willis’s men waited with their firearms trained on them for the right moment to capture him.

  The second hunter didn’t make it to his gun before he cried out in pain and gripped his stomach, scrambling toward the cover of the trees.

  Zane dived for cover as the forest lit up like firecrackers from all the gunfire.

  The gun battle stopped for a moment, and he heard an exchange of panicked whispering. He slipped farther into the trees.

  To his side he heard voices, though he could not see anyone.

  “Be careful, we don’t want to kill him.”

  “Where did she go anyway? I don’t see her anywhere.”

  Zane wondered that, too. Where had Heather gone?

  * * *

  Heart racing, Heather held on to the rifle she’d grabbed. Gunfire seemed to be coming from every direction. She backed away through the trees. A head popped up from behind a bush. She recognized him from the camp as one of Willis’s men.

  The man sneered at her as he stepped out toward her. His hand reached for his pistol.

  She hit the man with the butt of the rifle, and he collapsed to the ground. She ran away from where the loudest gunfire was. By the time she stopped to catch her breath and rest her back against a tree, she was wheezing in air.

  She’d never hit a man before in her life, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret her actions. He would’ve taken her captive at gunpoint if she hadn’t. Another volley of gunshots assaulted her ears. She cringed.

  Hold it together, Heather. Think straight.

  She stared up at the clouds drifting by while she held the rifle in her hand. It didn’t look like the ones Zane had instructed her about before they left Fort Madison. Then she realized it wasn’t a rifle at all. It was a shotgun. She’d seen one, even—once, long ago.

  The gunfire died down. Had Willis’s men succeeded in capturing Zane? There was only one way to find out.

  Zane wouldn’t leave her behind, so she knew she had to go back for him.

  She circled back around toward the camp, pushing past her fear with each footstep.

  She slowed as she drew near to the remnants of the fire. The air still smelled of wood smoke and cordite. The only noise she heard was the horses’ frantic whinnying and the jangle of the metal on their bridles.

  She dropped to the ground and worked her way to where she had a clear view of the camp. Her breath caught.

  One of the hunters lay dead beside the smoldering fire.

  Her stomach did a somersault and she tasted bile. She looked away. Finally, after several deep breaths, she steeled herself to take in the rest of the camp.

  She detected no movement and heard nothing that sounded human. Rising to her feet, she ran through the center of the camp, past the dead man. A search of the edges of the area revealed that Zane and the others must have gone. All the tracks she could see led in the same direction. It didn’t look like Zane had been able to escape. That had to mean that he was their captive again.

  She ran back to where the horses were. Still clearly agitated, the horses jerked their heads up and down. Her hands were shaking as she reached toward the first horse to untie him. She could cover a lot more ground with some transportation.

  Once he was loose, the horse reared up. She stepped back, letting go of the reins. The animal galloped away, crashing through the forest.

  Her heart was still racing from nearly having been trampled. She made soothing sounds as she stepped toward the second horse. She stroked the animal’s neck and mane. She spotted a saddle not too far away. By the time she swung the saddle over his back and secured it around his belly, the animal had calmed down.

  She shoved the shotgun into the leather holder attached to the saddle and untied her ride. She put her foot in the stirrup and got on, determined to find Zane—whatever it took, whatever it cost. They were in this together and they would get out of this together.

  NINE

  As he rushed away from the camp, Zane heard the frantic voices and movement but still didn’t see anyone. Crawling commando style, he sneaked through the underbrush. He was pretty sure the hunter by the fire was dead. While the second one had rushed out of sight, Zane suspected he had been fatally injured, too. The hunters had probably planned to be up here for days or even a week. Family members would not be alarmed for some time. That meant there was no hope of the authorities showing up anytime soon.

  He said a prayer for the dead men and their families.

  The smart thing to do would be to try to make it back to the ATV and hope that Heather had the same plan.

  He rushed from tree to tree, still hearing the occasional breaking twig. The snow had let up some but the cold still stung his face. When he got to where the ATV should have been, he saw that it had been stolen. There was a chance that Heather had gotten to it first, but he feared the worst. And the worst thing he could imagine was that Heather had been taken hostage again.

  Maybe she’d been smart enough to grab a shotgun when the opportunity had presented itself. He’d spent some time showing her how a few different guns worked before they left town. A little instruction, though, was not the same as years of experience, and he hadn’t told her anything about shotguns.

  Several gunshots sounded behind him. His heart squeezed tight. He took off running toward where the gunfire had come from, slowing down and seeking cover as he drew close. He spotted a trail of fresh blood on the new-fallen snow. His heart squeezed tight. He wanted to call out Heather’s name.

  Instead, he backed up against the tree, listening and watching. No more disturbances. The men could be lying in wait, using Heather as bait once again. Or Heather could be hurt and bleeding.

  He traced the blood trail with his eyes. His heart beat out an erratic rhythm. He heard more gunfire some distance from him and to the north. Maybe this was his chance. He had to know. Even if it was bad. Even if it showed him that he’d lost Heather just when she seemed to trust him.

  He followed the blood trail into the quiet of t
he woods. He found the prone body of the second hunter. He checked for a pulse, but knew in his heart that he wouldn’t find one. The man was dead, shot through the stomach and a second time through the arm. Zane closed his eyes and said a prayer.

  He found the man’s rifle a few feet from him. He still needed to locate Heather. He ran north toward where he’d heard the gunshots.

  One of the horses that had been tied up at the hunters’ camp galloped past him. Clearly agitated, the animal was kicking up snow and snorting, its hooves pounding the earth.

  Once it was out of sight, Zane scanned the horizon and all the open areas, not seeing any movement. The silence bothered him. If he heard gunshots, it meant they were still after Heather, which meant she was still alive and running.

  He jogged toward the last place he’d heard the gunshots, into the thick of the forest. He slowed, aware that a trap might have been set for him. A sense of helplessness descended on him like a shroud. He had to believe she was still alive. He wouldn’t give up hope.

  Maybe she was the one who had taken the ATV. He doubted she could navigate to the river crossing on her own, but she could at least get away fast.

  Zane turned a half circle. A sudden stinging pain in his hand caused him to drop the rifle. Then his whole arm went numb. His stared down at his hand. It dripped with blood. He’d been shot. He felt lightheaded as he fought not to give in to the shock that pummeled his body.

  He heard footsteps behind him and then voices.

  “I told you it would work. I’m a good shot,” said a young-sounding voice. “Willis just said bring him in alive.” The voice sounded triumphant. “It’s okay if he’s hurt, don’t you think?”

  These were not men. They were boys barely in their teens. He swung around with the intent of knocking them to the ground with his good hand. No need to harm someone so young. All he needed to do was get away.

  He lifted his arm to swing it, but the shock to his body from the wound slowed his movements. The boy he was aiming for had time to step back while his cohort dropped a hood over Zane’s head. He swayed slightly from the blood loss.

  “Come on, let’s take him to Willis.”

  “Aren’t we supposed to call in and wait for orders?”

  “Casey took the radio, dude. Let’s just take him up to Willis. We got him. We should get the credit.”

  As he listened to conversation, Zane could feel himself growing more and more light-headed. He needed to stop the bleeding in his hand before he passed out.

  He heard the distinctive racking of a 12-gauge shotgun and then Heather’s voice behind him, clear and strong. “I don’t think anybody is going anywhere today, boys. Don’t even think about reaching for your gun. Drop it on the ground right now, then take five steps back.”

  He heard a thud and footsteps.

  “You’ve got ten seconds to disappear before I start shooting.”

  More footsteps. This time even more frantic.

  Heather pulled the hood off Zane. He tried to focus on her beautiful face. Her gaze fell to his hand and the pool of blood on the ground. She pulled her scarf off and handed it to him. “Until we can get you a real bandage.”

  He wrapped the scarf around his bleeding hand. The bullet had gone through the fleshy area between his thumb and finger. “Where are the others?”

  She tilted her head downhill. “I diverted them away from you and then circled back around to find you.”

  “Did you take the ATV?”

  She shook her head. “I took one of the horses. Come on, we’ve got to get out of this clearing.” She grabbed his good arm above the elbow. “Are you going to be okay?”

  He nodded but wasn’t so sure it was the truth. He was having a hard time focusing and his stomach churned.

  She grabbed the handgun the kid had surrendered and handed it to him. “It’ll be easier to carry than that rifle.”

  She held on to him above the elbow and led him toward the trees. “We better hurry. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before they are able to tell the others our position.”

  “Those two don’t have a radio, but I am sure they can find someone who does.” Zane quickened his pace, though he still felt dizzy. “How did you know how to handle a 12 gauge? I never showed you.”

  Heather stuttered in her step. “I have a vague memory of my father showing me. It came back to me when I picked up the shotgun. I was too young to hold a gun but he explained things to me.”

  “Strange how memory works,” he said.

  Her gaze flashed toward him for just a moment. “Yes, I’m starting to wonder if it’s why my father wanted me to come back here...so the memories would surface.”

  “If so, some of the memories might be ones you’re better off without. I’m not sure Stephan was exercising sound judgment showing a five-year-old how to use a shotgun.” He wondered what Stephan had been thinking, too, when the old man had written out his will. Though, in his defense, Stephan couldn’t have foreseen the nightmare the two of them had been thrown into.

  “Actually it was more of a safety lecture, and then he locked the gun back up,” she said.

  Heather glanced over her shoulder and then jogged toward a cluster of evergreens until the horse from the camp came into view. Heather untethered the horse from a branch.

  She handed him the reins. “I don’t know the way.”

  Zane mounted the horse struggling a little to do it one handed. He reached down his good hand for Heather.

  She swung up behind him, wrapping her arms around him.

  He led the horse out into the open and kicked the beast into a canter. He felt Heather’s warmth as she held on and pressed close to him. The hand that had been shot was useless. He had to control the animal with only his good hand while he rested the other on his leg.

  The light-headedness cleared, and he didn’t feel like he might throw up anymore.

  The trail before him was easy enough to navigate. He leaned closer to the horse’s neck and spurred the animal to go faster. Heather leaned forward as well. They seemed to be functioning as a single unit, each of them knowing what to do without saying anything.

  The horse kicked up snow and dirt as it traversed the flatter part of the landscape. The animal slowed once the trail became more winding. Horses weren’t as sure-footed as mules, but on this kind of terrain, it was better transport than an ATV.

  Zane’s mind turned to the horse’s owners—the hunters who now lay dead in the forest. They’d been up in the high country without a guide, so they must be local men. Zane might have even seen them before, at the grocery store or the post office. And now they were gone. The damage Willis could do was astounding. Zane vowed that when he got down off this mountain, he’d find the hunters’ families and speak to them himself. It was the least he could do.

  Willis was usually careful to keep a low profile. Killing was unlike him. And now with three dead men to account for, Willis must be planning something big for him to risk the consequences of being found out. But what could he possibly be after that could be that important? And what did any of it have to do with Zane?

  He stared down the series of switchbacks on the trail. A fire had burned out most of the trees on this part of the mountain, providing him with a clear view of much of the trail.

  Men were moving up the trail far enough away that they looked like bugs. All of them were dressed in camouflage or earth tones. Most likely Willis’s men had gotten the message and were headed back up the trail.

  Zane brought the horse to a halt. “Dismount. We need to find a different way down this part of the mountain to get to the river.”

  Zane swung off the horse and hurried into the thick of the forest with Heather at his heels.

  The men were moving at a rapid pace up the mountain, six of them in all. At best, they had a five-minute h
ead start over their pursuers. Not good.

  TEN

  Even as they sprinted through the trees, Heather felt a heaviness descend. Were they ever going to get out of these mountains? “Is there another way to get to the river?” she asked between deep breaths. Zane quickened his pace and she struggled to follow. “They’re watching our access points to it too closely.”

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Zane agreed. “There is another way to get out of here. We won’t end up in Fort Madison, though. We’ll have a long hike after that to get to civilization.”

  He stopped and dropped the reins. “We’re going to have to let the horse go. It’s not a route he can traverse.”

  Her spirits sank even lower. The horse had seemed like an answer to prayer. “What about the 12 gauge?”

  “Carry it if you want, but I think it will slow you down.”

  After thinking for a moment, Zane mustered up a half smile for her and said, “The horse might work as a diversion.” Zane coaxed the horse until it was turned around and then slapped its flank. The animal took off running, making a beeline for the trail. Zane took her gloved hand. “This way.”

  Her calves strained as they climbed a steep incline away from the trail. Down below, the shouts of the men filled the forest. They must have spotted the horse.

  Their voices struck a note of fear inside of her. They were outnumbered and outgunned. Were they ever going to get away or would they be hunted to the point where exhaustion and hunger forced them to surrender?

  As though he sensed her losing hope, he squeezed her hand. “Let’s put some distance between us and them then we can rest.”

  The noise of the pursuers faded when they worked their way through the thick trees. They walked for what seemed like hours before Zane let go of her hand. “I think we lost them. We can build a small fire. Find an area where the trees and brush provide a degree of cover.” He reached inside his jacket. “There’s the fire-starter kit. I’m going to go find something for us to eat.”