by Tate, Harley
As much as it pained her to admit, she understood. “I know.”
“Dani and Larkin are right. They’re the best in the city.”
Tracy fought to keep her emotions in check. Over the past seven months, she’d come to know the three strangers well, but they still weren’t family. Relying on them to find her husband wasn’t easy.
Colt gave her hands one more squeeze before letting go. “We’ll leave as soon as we can.”
Dani headed toward the door. “If anyone can find him, we can.” She smiled, brightening her whole face in hope. “Just watch, we’ll all be back before you know it.”
“Be careful.”
“Always.” Dani slipped out the door and Larkin followed. Colt leaned down to Madison and said a few words that Tracy couldn’t hear. Her daughter glanced at her and nodded before Colt followed the others out the door.
Madison called out. “Mom, they’ll find him.”
She smiled at her daughter as a wave of tears filled her eyes. Willing them back, she pretended to busy herself with the discarded gear by the door. It would take all her strength not to follow the group to Truckee and help in the search, but it was the right thing to do. Walter would never forgive her if something happened to Madison because Tracy had been worried about him.
Tracy sucked in a lungful of air and forced it out her mouth. She had to have faith that Walter was alive and that Colt and the others could find him.
Peyton stood up and wrapped Tracy in a sideways hug. “He’ll be all right, Mrs. S. You have to believe that.”
She patted Peyton’s arm and he let go. “Can you stay with Madison for a while? I need to get some air.”
He nodded and Tracy bent to grab her jacket before scrunching her feet in her boots and easing out the door.
Chapter Six
WALTER
Time and Location Unknown
Damp, clammy cold permeated his consciousness like dirty water seeping from a used washcloth tossed on the floor. Walter blinked, attempting to bring the world into focus. Nothing happened.
Eyes open or shut, the void all around stayed the same shade of black. He was either dead and trapped in some limbo of his own making or in a windowless jail cell in the land of the living.
Maybe another view will help. Walter rolled off his left arm and his hands slammed into the floor. He jerked against whatever bound his wrists and a searing ball of pain exploded in his right shoulder. Sweat beaded across his forehead as he fell forward once more.
Not dead. Good to know.
Scant memories of the moments before he lost consciousness hit him in waves along with the pain. He’d been outside the grocery store, watching and waiting for Colt. The wind battered his face until tears leaked from his eyes and began to freeze in tracks down his cheeks.
He’d had no choice but to flip up his hood. But the parka’s insulation muffled his hearing. No footsteps sloshing through melting snow. No tires crunching along the roadway.
Nothing until the bullet ripped his right shoulder apart and he fell face-first onto the ground. Walter twisted on the concrete, gritting his teeth against the throbbing ache as he poked at the wound with his chin.
Expecting a bloody mess, he jerked back when his stubbled skin found gauze. Someone cleaned him up and treated the wound. He eased down onto his side and exhaled as the pain lessened. Whoever took him wanted him alive.
What for?
He tried to remember what happened next. Snow in his nose and eyes. Pain clouding his thoughts. His hood hid the sun and muffled the noises behind him, but he’d sworn he heard voices. Were they shouting? Was there more gunfire?
I can’t remember.
He closed his eyes and leaned back against the ground. He remembered spitting out bits of dirt and ice as he reached for the shotgun. It stuck out of the snow just out of reach. With his right shoulder on fire, he’d been awkward and slow.
More noise. A car. Something heavy and solid behind him. Was it a group? A single person? He shook his head.
Everything was a blur after that. Judging by the low throb in the back of his head, he could guess why. Gun stocks had a way of erasing memories and consciousness.
Walter rolled forward enough to rest his forehead on the ground. The floor wasn’t sealed, and the cold and wet from the dirt beneath the concrete seeped to the surface. A basement? Warehouse? Fallout shelter?
He had no idea. Without more light, he wouldn’t know unless he got up and felt around. Gunshot wound or not, he couldn’t lie there and wait for his captors to come back. With a grunt, Walter used his head to push off and struggle up to his knees.
Still nothing but darkness. He closed his eyes and listened. A faint hum. Something mechanical. A generator? Boiler? Hot water heater?
It could be anything.
He sniffed back congestion and breathed deep. Moist earth, cool air. His bare arms pricked with cold, but he didn’t shiver. Either the place had a heat source or he was underground. Root cellars and caves stayed temperate all year, but he didn’t smell the brackish decay of living things long since forgotten.
Bracing himself for a rush of pain, Walter jabbed his right knee up and found the ground with his foot. Tipping himself forward, he managed to wobble and strain and drag his body up to stand. Vertigo rushed over him and he gagged on a rising tide of spit.
Walter gritted his teeth and swallowed. Falling down wasn’t an option. If he ripped open the bullet wound, he could bleed out and no one would know.
He closed his eyes and stood still, breathing in and out through his nose until the threat of fainting subsided. For all he knew, he’d been unconscious for hours. Lack of food and water and a gunshot wound could turn even the most seasoned of warriors into a liability. And Walter was just a middle-aged man who chopped wood and tended to a farm most days of the week.
Visions of his wife and daughter and the rest of their group filled his mind. He couldn’t give up. Tracy depended on him. Madison was only twenty years old. Not that the current state of affairs lent themselves to weddings and college graduations and happily ever after, but he still hoped to live long enough to see his daughter happy.
Bending his wrists, he strained to reach the binds securing his hands. No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t reach them. A tentative tug later and ensuing pain, he guessed zip ties. Uninjured, he might be able to break free. A few painful twists of his wrists and he could probably stretch them enough to get out. But with a bullet hole in his shoulder? Not a chance.
Walter sagged in defeat. Only after sitting for some time did he realize his wrists were smooth and stuck together. My watch! He’d worn the gold watch for years, only taking it off to shower and work out. Where was it? It couldn’t have fallen off when he hit the ground. Did someone take it?
He grumbled. If someone on the other side of the door walked in wearing it, Walter would make them pay. The thought gave him a surge of energy and he eased forward in the dark. With small, shuffling steps, he walked until his toe grazed something solid.
Walter turned around and his fingers brushed concrete. Not poured, but block. Keeping his fingers against the wall, he shuffled to the left. Nothing but concrete until he hit a seam. He repeated the procedure over and over until he’d circled the room twice, once at his normal height and once in a crouch.
All he found was a handful of concrete steps and a single door. Smooth, painted metal, and warm to the touch, the door was the only way in or out of the entire room. That explained the dark. Walter sagged against the wall and relieved the pressure on his shoulder from the zip ties.
He couldn’t stay in there forever. Someone would come for him, and when they did, it could be the end of his journey. The door was his only option. He eased over to it once more and pitched himself forward until he could scrabble up the steps and reach the handle.
It slipped in his fingers.
He tried again. Twist. Twist. Locked.
Walter frowned. If he couldn’t escape, then Colt was h
is best hope. He slid down the wall, sitting on the top step with his head against the door handle. If anyone tried to open it, he would feel it. It wasn’t the best way to defend himself, but he would need to conserve his strength for whatever happened next.
A rattle in his skull broke through a dreamless sleep and Walter jerked awake. He blinked at the darkness, confused and discombobulated until it happened again: the doorknob wiggled against his head.
All at once it came back. The gunshot, the blackout, the windowless room.
Scrambling off the steps, Walter crouched on the other side of the door and sucked in a deep breath. This is it. Whoever was coming in would either end him or give him means to escape.
Fight or die. He didn’t have a choice.
Chapter Seven
COLT
Clifton Compound
Near Truckee, CA
7:00 p.m.
The second magazine went into his cargo pocket and Colt zipped it up. They had already taken too long. Every minute Walter was missing increased the odds they would never find him. Colt refused to tell Tracy his fears, but the woman wasn’t an idiot.
She had to know that Walter might never come home.
A knock sounded on the door and Colt swung it open. Dani stood outside the cabin holding Lottie and a wadded-up piece of cloth. “I grabbed one of Walter’s shirts. I figure she’ll need something to remember his scent.”
“Good thinking. What weapon do you want?”
Dani chewed on her lip as she thought it over. When Colt first met the girl she was a skinny scrap of a thing, starving for more than just food. Now she was fifteen going on twenty-five. Her dirty-blonde hair had grown out past her shoulders and she could have graced the cover of any fashion magazine if they still existed.
Colt didn’t wait for her to answer. He reached for the 20-gauge shotgun before handing it over. “You should have a pistol, too. Something for backup.”
Dani nodded and plucked a small Glock 42 from the wall. Running into a Camaro at top speed had almost killed them all, but at least there had been a silver lining. A back seat full of weapons and ammo had been a boon no one expected.
Whoever owned the guns was out there, somewhere, but they hadn’t found Colt yet. He hoped it stayed that way.
He bent to rub Lottie, the little Yorkie, on the head and grabbed the small daypack he’d loaded with water and energy bars and backup ammo. “Where’s Larkin?”
“Waiting by the Jeep.”
“Then let’s hit the road.”
They piled in the Jeep and in minutes were driving out of the gate and into the forest of the Sierra Nevada foothills.
Close to an hour later, Colt pulled over beside the grocery store. He’d circled the area twice, headlights blazing, looking for any sign of a person. Nothing. With the temperatures well below freezing, the chances of running into anyone would be slim.
They clambered out, Dani holding Lottie in her arms. Even with the little dog jacket and booties she wore, Lottie was no match for the elements. Keeping her warm would be a priority. If they couldn’t spot a visual on Walter’s whereabouts, they would need her nose.
Colt motioned Larkin over to the store’s entrance. With his flashlight, he pointed out the drops of blood now icing over in the night air.
“Is this where he was standing?”
“I wish I knew. The pharmacy’s at least a hundred and fifty feet away. Even if I’d taken off at a full-speed run, I’d never have made it out here in time.”
Larkin glanced around. “There’s nothing here but ransacked storefronts. Where would he go?”
“The question is where would someone take him.” Colt pointed toward the street. “I followed a set of tire tracks that way, but they petered out just before the highway.”
“If he was abducted via car, they could be anywhere.”
Lottie squirmed in Dani’s arms and gave a yip. The teenager looked up at Colt. “Can I put her down? She wants to help.”
Colt nodded and Dani set the little dog on the freezing snow before holding out Walter’s shirt. “Where is he, girl? Where’s Walter?”
Lottie rooted in the shirt, snuffling up the scent for a moment before taking off, scampering down the slippery sidewalk in the direction Colt found the watch. The three of them followed a few steps behind.
It didn’t take her more than five minutes to find the depression where Colt fished the watch from the ground.
“They must have been on foot. There’s no way she could follow his scent otherwise.”
Colt frowned. “Then where are the footprints? I should have seen some.”
“Not if they were in the ditch. It’s still all slush.”
Lottie ran around in a circle, yipping and jumping on their legs. She was freezing.
Dani scooped up the little dog and held her out to Colt. “Put her in your coat for a minute. I have an idea.”
While Colt warmed Lottie with his body heat and layers of insulation, Dani broke open a pair of hand warmers and shook them until the chemical reaction turned them hot. With Colt’s help, she stuffed them between Lottie’s jacket and her fur.
“They won’t help her paws, but they’re better than nothing.”
“Good thinking.” Larkin used a pair of binoculars to look around. He brought them down, frustrated. “I can’t see anything tonight. The snow’s bright, but the flashlights ruined my night vision.”
Colt nodded. They were too pressed for time to wait for the morning. If Walter was still in the area, they needed to find him. Now. “Put Lottie back down. She’s our best chance.”
Dani did as he asked and gave Lottie another whiff of Walter’s shirt. The little dog took off in an instant, down a cross street Colt hadn’t checked.
As Colt stepped forward to follow her, Larkin grabbed his coat. “I’ll circle back for the Jeep.” He pointed at a partially concealed lot across the street with an abandoned diner on the corner. “I’ll park it there and hunt you all down.”
Colt thanked him and hurried to catch up with Dani. She was following Lottie at a jogging pace down a street that transitioned from strip malls to warehouses.
He called out as he neared. “Where is she going?”
“No idea, but it’s the best chance we’ve got.”
Colt turned off his flashlight and motioned for Dani to do the same. If they were walking into a kidnapper’s turf, advertising their presence wasn’t smart.
The pair lapsed into silence as Lottie slowed down. Every few steps, her nose dove into the snow and she came up with a shake before trotting on down the sidewalk. As she neared another major intersection, the snow turned slick. Multi-story warehouses loomed from the edges of the road, casting exaggerated shadows and blocking out the weak moon.
“'This street doesn’t get much sun. It’s already iced over for the night.”
Dani nodded. “I think she’s lost the scent. It’s buried under the ice.”
Colt watched Lottie as she turned left and right and whimpered. He scooped her up and blew warm air into her boots. “Let’s wait until she warms up and try again.”
“No need.” Larkin’s voice caught Colt off guard. He’d been so consumed with Lottie and her abilities that he’d tuned out the sound of crunching snow. He’d grown soft on the farm.
Larkin stopped beside Colt. “I think I know where they are.” He pointed down the street. “See anything out of place?”
Colt squinted into the moonlight, but Dani spotted it first.
“There’s steam in the air! Up there!” She pointed at a series of rooflines several blocks away and finally Colt saw it.
“That doesn’t prove anything. It could be anyone.”
“It’s the only lead we’ve got. Besides, what are the chances someone else is camping out in this part of town and Lottie leads us straight to them?”
“Maybe they’re cooking up some backyard chickens.”
Larkin cut Colt a glance. “Be serious.”
“I am.” He wished
he could be as excited as Dani, but the facts were brutal. Finding Walter more than half a day since he went missing was highly unlikely. He’d have better luck getting struck by lightning. He handed Lottie to Dani. “Go with Larkin and put Lottie in the Jeep. She should be warm enough with the blankets and the hot water bottle.”
“What about you?”
Colt pulled his Sig from his holster and ensured it was ready to fire. “I’ll check it out, but don’t get your hopes up.”
“We’ll meet back here in twenty.” Larkin pulled Dani away and Colt eased off the sidewalk and into the shadows of the closest warehouse. His feet crunched through the snow and for the first time in his life, Colt wished he didn’t weigh two hundred pounds. Dani’s footsteps probably wouldn’t make a sound.
He covered the distance to the warehouse in an agonizing ten minutes, watching every shadow for movement between him and the target. If the place was a hideout, it could have a sentry or a sniper on the roof. Anyone could be waiting in the shadows for someone like Colt to arrive. If Walter was inside, then they could even be expecting him.
Colt crept up to the side wall of the warehouse and leaned against the brick. Warmer than the outside air. Definitely heated. He kept tight to the building, grazing his back along the brick as he worked his way to the rear corner. It was old, built before tractor-trailers made deliveries and steel and aluminum were the building materials of choice.
At the corner, he paused to listen. A hum carried on the stillness, mixing in with the night silence of cold air and desolate, abandoned buildings. He crossed his fingers and wished for a window as he turned the corner.
He found one, but not the kind he wanted. Fifteen feet off the ground, the louvered single panes were excellent for cross-building ventilation, but terrible for reconnaissance. He cursed turn-of-the-century architecture and crept toward the back door. Solid metal with a massive handle, there was no way to open it without waking up every person inside.