Lycos (Guardian Security Shadow World Book 3)

by Kris Michaels

  She let the soil filter through her hands and pressed it gently into the small cups. Three months ago, she'd never have imagined such happiness. Of course, she was in love with Ryan. In love with the way he treated her, the way he treated Ethan, the way he cared for both of them. She could remember the warmth of her family before she’d been taken. Random feelings that still existed deep inside her hummed when she thought back, but in reality, other than Ethan's love for her, she’d never felt the kind of love and connection she felt for Ryan. They shared a passionate, desperate love that spread from their bed to them as a couple and then continued on to the family they were forming. That type of love transcended what she had been to what they were now.

  Granted, his love was buried under a pretty gruff exterior. She'd watched Prepper television shows late at night when Ethan was asleep, and her mind wouldn't shut off. Ryan was obviously of like mind to the people who'd built off-grid, but he wasn't crazy like some of the characters featured on the shows. They were probably cast for ratings only. Ryan lived away from everyone by choice, and thank God he did. If they hadn't come here, she had no idea what would have happened to them.

  But they had been directed here, and they'd met Ryan. Ryan Wolf the big, gruff teddy bear in disguise. Oh dear, his cussing! She chuckled as she pushed more dirt into the little cups. The words he said. He was trying to censor himself, but it was pretty much guaranteed Ethan now knew every cuss word in the universe. Of all the problems that could revolve around her, limiting Ethan's exposure to R-rated words was one she'd gladly tackle.

  Lifting to her knees, she grabbed the last three seedling crates and set them down on the far side of the already filled cups. Another hour and she'd be done. She carefully scratched her nose, trying not to smudge too much dirt. She gazed around the large cavern. Ryan had run the wiring for the lights and was picking up the bulbs and the track system. She'd wait until the grow lights were installed before she started the seeds Ryan would bring up the mountain. She sighed and cupped her hands in the nutrient-rich soil. It was almost spring—a time of rebirth for her, for Ethan, and for Ryan.

  Chapter 22

  Ryan manhandled the truck up through the frozen ruts. It was damn cold and getting colder by the minute. While winter had been slow in coming this year, it was being a tenacious motherfucker, refusing to let go. He pulled into the sheltered area where he normally parked his truck and slammed the brakes on. His eyes fixed on the tire tracks, fresh tracks, smaller vehicle. He threw the truck into park, turned it off, grabbed his forty-five from under the front seat and was out of the vehicle.

  He slipped to the far side of the enclosed trailer and moved forward, quietly. He bent down and examined the tracks. Someone had done a K turn. The mud at the edge of the tracks was frozen, but the deeper grooves weren't.

  Ryan eyed the trail. There was a profusion of tracks. He moved forward, careful to scan for threats. He dropped and searched the tracks. Fuck!

  Ethan's boots.

  Dog's tracks.

  Massive prints. Boots. Men, one, no... two… at least three men.

  Blood, small drops.

  Ethan's tracks there... moving to the east.

  The men had followed.

  Ethan was running here.

  Ryan pushed on, stopping at another large area of messed up tracks.

  More blood.

  Drops in an arc. An arm thrown out?

  Ryan's eyes read the scene. Dog had attacked. He could see where he launched from his hind legs, three feet outside the track impacted area. Just there was blood and an imprint of fabric on the ground so the man Dog had lunged for had fallen. Further into the area, the tracks were muddled, but there was a lot of blood. Dog's fur mixed into the tumult of tracks. He saw where Dog had bled and where the man bled. Different patterns. Blood drops scattered in a different pattern for the taller one, the human. Dog had lain here. He put a hand in the depression where Dog had bled. Where was the dog now? He glanced at a bloody trail. Wolf prints only.

  Ethan's tracks were no more. Two men returned to the parking area. One carried Ethan, his tracks were much deeper on the return. The other man was injured. From the thick splattering of blood, Dog had punctured a major blood vessel.

  He hadn't seen a vehicle on the way up the mountain, but there were numerous roads and multiple options. If you weren't familiar with the mountain, getting lost or turned around was almost guaranteed.

  He rose from a squat and quickly worked the trail back toward the cavern. More blood. Fuck, too much blood.

  He took off for the cave as fast as he could run. He cleared the ridge and died a little inside. Dog was lying on the trail in a pool of blood.

  The dog lifted his head as he approached.

  “Its okay, bud. Let me look.”

  The dog whimpered. Ryan held his gun, his finger on the trigger, safety off as he examined the dog. Two stab wounds. One on the shoulder, the other along the neck. The neck wound was the bleeder. The more the animal tried to move, the more it bled.

  He searched the trail ahead. Only one set of tracks. Ethan's and Dog’s, going down to the parking area.

  Ryan glanced up toward the cavern.

  Ice coursed through his veins. His mind processed the scenarios. Everything else receded to the background.

  The motherfuckers who dared come here were going to pay with their lives.

  He stood and surveyed the area, as Lycos, a killer, an assassin, an apex predator. He surveyed the ground as a father, though not by genetics, as a husband, though not by law. The enemy had brought the war to him.

  Ryan put his weapon on safety and tucked it securely between his belt and his jeans, keeping it outside his clothing and readily available. His mind raced with implications as he lifted the animal in his arms.

  He put one foot in front of the other and moved as fast as he could with a squirming animal in his arms.

  Whoever had come up the mountain had Ethan.

  Bethanie?

  He hadn't seen tracks. The front of the cave… they could have taken her from there.

  His breath came in measured puffs. His eyes roamed the rocks, the snow banks, and the crevices, the landscape as familiar to him as the back of his hand. He saw nothing.

  The back door was locked. He lifted his knee, propping some of the massive dog's weight on his leg as he keyed in his code. He listened and stared into the depths of the cavern. Lights were on in the kitchen. He heard the tap turn on.

  He bent and laid Dog on the floor, grabbing his weapon as he lifted. He tapped the access panel and killed all the lights in the cavern.

  “What? Ethan? Did you turn off the lights?” Bethanie's voice carried from the kitchen.

  “Bethanie!” Ryan bellowed as he turned the lights back on.

  She appeared at the doorway; her eyes huge. “What happened?” She ran toward him.

  “Where's Ethan?”

  “In his room.”

  “Go check.”

  She popped up and screamed, “Ethan!”

  He heard her pounding up the incline, her terrified screams of her son's name echoing in the confines of the cave.

  “Shhh… I've got you, big boy.” Ryan pulled his medical pack off the bench and leaned down again as Bethanie flew down the ramp.

  “He's not there!”

  “I saw tracks. There was a struggle. Someone has him.”

  “Has him? Oh my God! No!”

  Ryan reached up and grabbed her, forcing her to look at him. “Go upstairs, put warm clothes on. Get a change of clothes for Ethan. Put them in a plastic bag then come back down here. Dress in layers. Like I showed you, remember?”

  “What are we going to do? Who has Ethan? Oh my God!” She was gasping for air, and wild desperation had supplanted rationality. She wasn't tracking, and he couldn't let that happen.

  He grabbed her shoulders and shook her as he yelled, “Stop it! We have to move. We have to move now. Go get dressed in warm clothes. Layers. Get the small pack out of Ethan
's room and put clean clothes into it. Do you understand?”

  She nodded. He released her. “Go. Now!”

  She bolted back up the incline, a keening wail trailed her.

  Ryan put his hand on the straining animal, keeping him from trying to rise. “I'm sorry, bud, this is all I can do for you now.” He filled the syringe with morphine, guessing at the animal's weight. He'd knock the dog out, keep him from moving and injuring himself more. He injected the sedative and secured thick stacks of gauze with an ace bandage to try to stem the bleeding. By the time he was done packing and wrapping the wounds, the dog was out. He laid his hand on the animal’s head for a split second and then raced up the incline.

  He could hear Bethanie in the bedroom, but that wasn't where he was headed. He flew into the office. The eighth shelf up, the seventh book in, he popped the lock and pushed the shelf out of the way. It took seconds to enter the vault. He stripped off his jacket and slid on his shoulder harnesses. Twin Desert Eagle, forty-five caliber, automatic loaders were filled with ammo and slipped into the holsters. He slapped a web camo belt around his waist and clipped on three ammo packs. He lifted his leg and strapped a knife onto his ankle before grabbing a small pouch containing binoculars and snapped it into place.

  “What is this?”

  Ryan glanced at Bethanie. She had her jacket on and the small pack he'd told her to grab. He pulled his jeans down and lifted the other leg. He strapped a small caliber handgun to that leg. “A weapons vault.”

  “What do you need this for?”

  He turned on her and lifted his hands. “We are not having that discussion now.”

  He grabbed a web belt and clipped a sheathed knife onto it and an empty ammo pouch. “Put this on and go fill that pouch with protein bars.”

  He didn't wait to see if she'd moved. He jumped up to the top of the cabinet and grabbed a coiled length of rope and a pack containing emergency flares, a hand shovel, a flint and steel, matches and kindling.

  He put his coat on, threw the rope across his chest and snapped the pack to the back of his ammo belt. He reached up and grabbed his M-4. He’d built it. It fit him, and he fit it. He secured the vault and headed downstairs.

  Bethanie was leaning over the dog, petting him. She stood as he approached. “What happened to him?”

  “He attacked whoever has Ethan. They stabbed him. Twice.”

  “Is he going to live?”

  “Don't know.” Ryan headed out the door. “We are going up to the top of the mountain.”

  “Why? Shouldn't we get in the truck and go find them?”

  His steps ate up the ground, and he could hear her scrambling behind him. “No. We need to go up. We can see most of the mountain from here. With the snow that has been falling, we should be able to see any vehicle tracks and know where to start our search.

  “Who took him?”

  “The better question would be why was he outside?” Ryan scrambled up to the very top of the mountain and pulled out his binoculars.

  “He asked if he could meet you at the parking area. I told him no. I told him to watch a movie. I thought he was in his room.”

  “The back door was still locked.”

  They looked at each other. “Dog's door,” Ryan said, and Bethanie nodded her head. Ethan had to have slipped out of Dog's door and gone outside without permission.

  He steadied his breathing and started his strip and grid search of the entire fucking mountain.

  “Anything?” Bethanie's panic voice asked.

  “Working it,” Ryan replied as he moved along the road he knew he could see. The snow was wet and clinging. The forecast was for six inches, and at least half of that had fallen in the last hour or so. It would rapidly obliterate any trace of... There.

  He dropped the binoculars and pulled his weapon off his back.

  “Are you going to shoot something?” Fear rippled through her voice.

  “No, the scope has better magnification than the binoculars.” He pulled the caps off his scope and lifted the weapon into firing position. It took him a few seconds to find the road, but yes, there were fresh tracks, one way, and if they were on that road, they'd find the safe house.

  He slung the weapon over his shoulder. “Come on.”

  “Did you see them?” He could hear her boots clambering over the rocks as she followed him.

  Ryan ignored her to concentrate on completing a steep descent without breaking his leg. He wedged his hand between a cleft of a rock, slithered over the edge on his belly and lowered his body all but three feet from the bottom before he released his hold and dropped. They were taking the fastest route, not the easiest. He turned and held his arms up and out to help her down the sheer drop off.

  She never hesitated. She was game, he'd give her that. She swung her boots off the ledge and twisted, holding on to the rock. “Ready?” She peeked over her shoulder.

  “I've got you. Push back a bit when you drop.”

  Her back tightened, and then she pushed off the face of the rock with her foot. She lost her grip, but her backward momentum was perfect. She'd pushed far enough away that she wouldn't leave a trail of skin and blood on the rock. He caught her and righted her immediately.

  “You didn't answer me. Did you see them?”

  “No, only tracks.”

  “Do you think it is the people Guardian warned us against?”

  Her voice elevated and lowered with each hop from rock to rock. He jumped up onto a boulder and extended his hand back to her. “I have no idea who they are.”

  “Do you think he's okay? Do you think they have hurt him?”

  “Don't.”

  “Don't what?”

  “Don't do that. It's counterproductive. What we are doing now is what you need to be concentrating on.”

  They traveled for several hundred feet down another steep incline. The route was hard, dangerous, and fast. Bethanie remained quiet and soldiered on, which gave him time to think. The safe house would be where he'd go if one of his men were injured. Heat, lights, bathroom, a place to stash the kid, and to make plans. They could continue down the mountain, but unless they applied a tourniquet to whatever appendage Dog had maimed, half of the duo that grabbed Ethan was going to die. The amount of blood loss necessitated fast action, especially if the mission wasn't just to grab Ethan. Given the information he’d had from Guardian, it wasn't. They wanted both Bethanie and Ethan dead, and in order to get to Bethanie, they'd leverage Ethan. His mind snaked over the many ways they could use the child. A sneer lifted his lip. He'd peel the skin off anyone who hurt that boy and make sure they lived to endure the entirety of his revenge.

  He turned and extended a hand again to Bethanie. Her focus was on her step, and her brow was furrowed with worry. He wished he could erase it, but this was reality, her reality and Ethan's, and it had come to bite them all in the ass.

  The cabin was a mile further up the canyon. He waited at the base of the crevice they'd traversed. Bethanie stopped beside him, her breathing ragged. He examined the ghost of a trail that led between the trees and down below the safe house. They'd have to climb up to the back of the house, but from the house, the trail was almost impossible to see.

  Snow fell around them. He could hear the small tinkling noise of the frozen particles hitting each other. Hearing snowfall had always been a miracle. Today, the sound lent nothing but distance to the equation. Distance from Ethan, from safety, and from the person he'd hoped to become.

  “There, between those two trees, do you see the trail?”

  She nodded.

  “I'm going to go down that trail and then up the incline and get Ethan. I need you to stay here.” She opened her mouth to argue, and he shook his head. “No, I can't do what I need to do if I'm worried about you.” He grabbed her hand and stepped down and around a rock outcropping. The small overhang was clear of snow for the most part. “I'll fix you a quick shelter. If I'm not back in two hours, you activate that cell phone, and you punch that emergency ap
p. There are hand warmers in the outside pocket of Ethan's backpack. If you get too cold, you open them up and shove them inside your clothes, near your core.”

  “I remember.” She helped him set up a quick lean-to, and he put a stack of pine boughs under the overhang. She could huddle into the boughs, and they would keep her off the rock.

  He slid his watch off his wrist. “Where is your phone?”

  She patted the front pocket of her coat.

  “It has a charge?”

  She nodded, her eyes large and worried.

  “Two hours. If I'm not back, push that alarm.”

  “Please, bring our boy home.” Bethanie looked up at him, pleading.

  He grabbed her and clutched her close to his chest. “I'll bring him back. Do not leave this place unless I call you. I can't worry about you and take care of Ethan.”

  She nodded. He pulled away and started off before he turned and whispered loudly. “Don't activate that alarm because of gunshots. Two hours, no matter what you hear, all right?”

  She nodded and stepped back under the shelter. Lycos turned and adapted to the terrain. He knew this land, and he'd prepared for the day he'd have to defend the safe house. He knew the structure’s advantages and its weaknesses. He was using the first of many now.

  The narrow channel ran along the length of the ridge above the cabin. It curved under the incline, and if anyone looked out over the ledge, he wouldn't be seen. There was a cleft that was scalable about a quarter of a mile past the house, and that was where he was headed.