Adirondack Attack

by Jenna Kernan

  “There was a packet of sheets and a woolen blanket on the bed,” she said, explaining the bedding.

  “Nice,” he said, slipping in beside her.

  She nestled against him and inhaled. “You smell like my soap,” she said.

  He wrapped an arm around her and drew her close, resting his cheek on the top of her head. Then he closed his eyes and thanked God that she was safe and here with him.

  “We’re lucky to be alive, you know?” she said.

  “Same thought occurred to me. People were shooting at you and you weren’t even wearing a uniform.”

  This comment was met with silence and he wondered what was wrong with him. Reminding her of why she was furious with him was not a great way to slip back into her good graces.

  “Will you call your friend and tell him our location?”

  “Yes. I’ll head down to the ranger station and give a call.”

  “They have a phone?”

  “An actual pay phone. Hard to believe.”

  “Can you even reverse the charges to a mobile phone?” she asked.

  “I guess I’ll find out.”

  “Wait here or come with you?” she asked.

  “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  He kissed her forehead and was surprised when she looped her arms about his neck and kissed him the way she used to. Now he didn’t want to leave, and he was certainly coming back as fast as humanly possible.

  “I’ll be quick.”

  She released him and he waited until he was outside before jogging to the station to make his call. Henry sounded relieved to hear his voice. He promised to be there in thirty minutes. Dalton wondered if that would be enough.

  When he got back, he was greeted by Jet. Alarm bells sounded as he drew his weapon and searched, room by room for Erin. He found her in the bedroom, curled on the blanket. She opened her eyes at his appearance.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Yes. They’ll be here within the hour.”

  He sank down beside her. His shoulders definitely drooped with the rest of him as the fatigue he had pushed aside finally caught up with him. And then he felt her hand on his thigh, sliding north with a sure path in mind. His shoulders lifted with the rest of him, and he rolled to his side.

  “Erin, I’ve missed this.”

  “Doctor said you needed time to heal.”

  “I think we’ve established that I am healthy enough for sex.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, and kissed him.

  Her mouth demanded as her tongue sought access. Erin’s kisses were so greedy and wild that they scared him a little. Her fervor pointed him toward fear.

  Did she believe they would not get out of this?

  The desperation of her fingers gripping his shoulders and her nails scoring his back told him that something had changed.

  Early in their relationship, he and Erin had giggled and wrestled and enjoyed the fun and play of intimacy.

  Now, after three years of marriage, they had fallen into a general pattern. He knew what she liked and gave it to her. He liked everything and was always happy when Erin wanted to try something new. But this wasn’t new. It bordered on manic.

  Her hands flew over his shoulders and then down the long muscles that flanked his spine. Nails raked his skin as her kisses changed from passion to something that lifted the hairs on his neck.

  He drew back, extending his arms on either side of her head and stared down at his wife.

  “Erin? You all right?”

  “I don’t know. I just want... I want...” Erin then did something she never did. She burst into tears. All the horror and the fear and the fight drained out of her, and she wept.

  Dalton rolled to his side and gathered her up, stroking her back as she sobbed against his broad bare chest. She sprawled over him, limp and still except for her labored breathing and the cries that racked her body.

  Jet arrived and poked Dalton’s bare leg with her wet nose. That made him jump and caused Erin to lift her head.

  “Dog scared me,” he said, in explanation.

  She turned her head and reached, patting the mattress. Jet did not hesitate. She leaped up beside her new mistress and licked her wet face.

  Erin laughed, hugging the dog with one arm and him with the other. Then she released them both, nestling in beside him. Jet, seeming to feel the crisis averted, hopped from the bed and left the room.

  “Erin, I’m going to get us out of this.”

  She said nothing.

  “You don’t think we’re going to make it. Do you?”

  “I’ve lost count of the times I thought we were both going to die. Whatever that thing is in that case you are hiding beside the bed, people are willing to kill for it.”

  “You still want me to leave it behind?”

  He held his breath, waiting.

  “No. My party died because of that thing, whatever it is. I’ve decided to see this through.”

  “For a minute I thought you were only willing to jump off trestle bridges after stray dogs.”

  “Jet isn’t a stray. Her owners were murdered, just like my party.” She lifted up on an elbow and stared down at him. Her hair fell across her face, shielding her expression from his view. She stroked his forehead with a thumb.

  “I just want you to stay with me. You know?”

  “Planning on it.” He cradled her jaw in his hand, and she turned to press a kiss against his palm. “I’ve even signed up to take the civil service exam.”

  “You’re going to be a supervisor?” Her voice held a squeak of elation that made him smile.

  “Well, I can’t run down crooks all my life.”

  She rested her head on his chest. “Oh, Dalton. That makes me so happy.”

  He didn’t remind her that he still could be shot for just wearing his uniform, as was the case when he’d actually taken the bullet. Ironic that, when he had faced armed gunmen on the job, he’d never fired a round and that he’d escaped Afghanistan without catching lead, only to be shot at a red light.

  And Erin wasn’t immune from danger. She’d happened onto the worst of all situations, being the rabbit in a deadly game of chase.

  He stroked his wife’s drying hair as he calculated how far away Larson might be. The backup should be here anytime, and his friend was bringing the FBI, DHS and the New York State Police.

  Odds were about to even up, he thought.

  Dalton shut his eyes, determined to rest a few minutes before help arrived. But his eyes popped open when Erin slid up and over his body, straddling his hips as she indulged in a leisurely kiss that curled his toes.

  Chapter Twelve

  It had been too long, Erin thought as she deepened the kiss. Dalton’s big body warmed her and she slid across him. His fingertips grazed her back and down over one hip, leaving a trail of tingling awareness.

  His breathing rate increased, and she turned her head to allow them to snatch at the cool night air. Moonlight filtered through the glass window to splash across their naked bodies, revealing the tempting cording of his muscles as he caressed her.

  Erin moved over him, showing him without words that she was ready for him, near desperate. He made a sound of surprise at her boldness as she took him, gliding over him to claim what was hers and remind him what he had missed.

  The next sound he made was a strangled groan as his head fell back as he captured her hips in his broad, familiar hands. They rocked together in the night, savoring the perfect fit and rising desire. How had she ever thought that leaving this man would solve their problems?

  She’d only increased them. Now she didn’t know what to do. Except she knew she needed this, him, inside her and holding her and bringing her pleasure as he took his own.

  He pulled her down against his chest, his hold
becoming greedy as she reached her release, letting her cry tear from her throat and mingle with the sounds of the night.

  Dalton arched, lifting her as she savored the receding echoes of pleasure and felt him reach his own. Together they fell, replete and panting, to the tangled bedsheets. Their slick bodies dried in the cool air. Their breathing slowed and Erin shivered. Dalton had reached for the blanket when something cold touched Erin’s thigh.

  She jumped. Dalton stilled, and a moment later the wet nose of their new addition poked him in the hip. Jet sat beside the bed, gazing up at the two of them as if asking if they needed anything.

  “Jet,” growled Dalton. “Git.”

  The dog stood, stretched and sauntered out the door.

  Erin giggled. “How long was she there, do you think?”

  Dalton threw an arm across his eyes. “I don’t want to know.”

  Erin cuddled next to him and he dragged her close.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered. “Missed us.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I was so scared,” he said.

  She lifted up to see his face. Her husband was not scared of anything or anyone. It was one of the things she both loved and hated about him.

  “Of what?”

  “Losing you. Losing us.”

  She tried for a smile, but it felt sad right down to her belly, which was tightening in knots.

  “I was scared, too. You were unconscious for so long and they said there might be brain damage. I thought you’d already left me.”

  He threaded his fingers in her hair. “I’m right here.”

  “This time.”

  They lay side by side on the sheets as the cool night air chilled their damp skin. Her husband was not only able to keep up with her on a cross-country hike and kayak rapids—he was able to keep up with her in bed.

  His recovery was complete, and she smiled at the proof that all systems were up and running. Dalton had always made her see stars, but tonight he’d given her something more—hope for the future.

  “So, we have a house and a dog,” said Dalton. He left the rest unsaid. He’d been after her to get a dog, seeming to think that would fix his late-night absences and ease her loneliness. But it wasn’t loneliness that kept her awake at night. It was fear of the day he couldn’t come home.

  And it had happened. And, somehow, they had both survived.

  This time.

  She was with him again and he was with her. They were a team, and together they would deliver this devil’s package and hopefully help the authorities catch these dangerous maniacs of Siming’s Army.

  Only a few more minutes and they would be safe.

  “We should get dressed,” she muttered, her voice slow with the lethargy that gripped her.

  “Yeah. We should.”

  They could head home with Jet, who she already considered an important part of her family. Dalton would pass the promotional exams and become a supervisor. Then she could stop looking at her phone as if it were the enemy and treating every knock on her door as if she were under attack.

  Erin slipped from bed to use the bathroom and on her return, she cracked open the window in the bedroom. She liked to hear the wind blow through the big pines all about them and hear the peepers chorus. She lay back beside Dalton and closed her eyes, feeling happy and satisfied.

  He’d finally heard her and was taking steps to do as she asked. She didn’t want him to quit the force. She just wanted him around to collect his pension. And in the meantime, maybe they could talk about kids again. She knew Dalton wanted them. She just never felt safe enough to try.

  Widows and orphans were seen to by the NYPD, and that was only right. But she did not savor the prospect of joining their ranks. If Dalton wanted kids, he could darn well be there to raise them.

  She had meant to get up and dressed, but instead she closed her eyes and drifted into a sleep like a feather falling to earth. She was in that deep sleep, the one that paralyzed you so that rousing felt like swimming up to the surface from deep water.

  Someone was shaking her. She opened her eyes and looked around the dark room, struggling to get her bearings. From the hallway came the feral growl of a large animal.

  “Dalton?” she whispered.

  He pressed a pistol into her hand. “Get dressed.”

  “What’s happening?” she said.

  “Not sure. Jet hears something.”

  “Larson?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She was about to ask who Jet was and where they were when the entire thing dropped into place. Her hairs lifted and the lethargy of sleep flew off. Her heart pummeled her ribs, and she sat up so fast her head spun.

  The breeze from the window had turned cold and she was suddenly regretting opening it. The cabin was perched on a slope, so crawling in the window would be difficult—but not impossible.

  “Have they found us?” she asked.

  “Not sure. Might be a raccoon. Porcupine.”

  Or a man, she realized.

  Dalton disappeared and returned carrying her pack and wearing his cargo pants and shirt. He sat on the bed for the few seconds it took to tug on his boots.

  She set aside the gun to scramble into jeans, shirt, jacket and socks, and then realized her boots were in the living room.

  “My boots are out there.” She pointed.

  “Come on,” he said, offering his hand.

  “Take the pack?”

  “For now.”

  They reached the hallway and Erin called Jet’s name just above a whisper. The dog came immediately and Erin grabbed her collar. Her hand at Jet’s neck relayed that every hair on the dog’s neck was standing straight up.

  “Her hackles,” she whispered.

  “Yeah. Mine, too,” he said.

  Something large flew through the front window. Dalton lifted his pistol and aimed as the log rolled across the living room floor.

  “They’re trying to force us to go out the back,” he said. “Safer than coming in here.”

  “They? Just how many are there?” Erin snatched up her boots. Quickly, she tugged them on.

  He crept toward the door and the automatic gunfire exploded in the night.

  “Down!” roared Dalton, and she fell to her stomach, sprawling as bullets tore through the frame and door.

  Jet tugged against her, trying to break free.

  “Two shooters, at least,” said Dalton. “Get to the bedroom.”

  The gunfire came again as she scrambled down the hall, dragging her pack in one hand and Jet by the collar in the other. Then something else flew through the open window. She heard the object hit the wood floor and shatter, and the acrid tang of gasoline reached her.

  “Molotov cocktail,” he said.

  She glanced back. Fire erupted in the living room. A log cabin, with wooden walls and wooden floors. How long until the entire place was ablaze?

  “Forcing us back,” he said, following her into the bedroom and closing the door against the wall of fire.

  “What do we do?” she said.

  Dalton moved to the window, keeping low, but the moment he lifted his head someone started shooting. He ducked back down.

  “Are you hit?” she said, unable to keep the panic from her voice as she crawled to him, dragging Jet along.

  Smoke now billowed under the closed door. Dalton dragged the wool blanket off the bed and stuffed it against the base of the door.

  “They’ve got infrared,” he said.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because he just missed my head and I can’t see a thing.”

  Smoke continued to creep around the door.

  “We have to use the window.”

  Footsteps sounded in the hall. The second shooter was out there. Bullet holes riddled
the bedroom door and Dalton rolled clear of the opening, crouching beside her near the bed.

  “When he opens the door, let go of the dog.”

  The shooter kicked the door open and Erin released her hold on Jet’s collar. The dog moved like a streak of black lightning. The shooter fired as Jet jumped, knocking the intruder back. Erin held her breath as both intruder and canine vanished in the smoke.

  Dalton charged after the dog with his pistol raised. She lost them in the smoke but clearly heard two shots. A moment later, Dalton emerged from the billowing smoke with Jet at his heels and kicked the door shut. In his hands was a semiautomatic rifle.

  The shooter outside opened fire as Jet reached Erin. She swept a hand over the dog’s coat, searching for the sticky wetness that would tell her that Jet had been shot. But her hands came away dry.

  Dalton reached her. “I’m going to knock out that window. Then I want you to let the dog go again.”

  “He’ll kill her.”

  Dalton said nothing for a moment. “She’s fast. She’s black and the shooter won’t be expecting it. Jet’s our only chance.”

  Erin did not want to die in this cabin.

  “All right.”

  Dalton threw her pack outside. Gunfire erupted and then ceased.

  “Now!”

  She released Jet, who jumped out the window and vanished. Dalton went next. She heard him land. Then came the sound of someone screaming and shots firing.

  Afterward there was only the crackling sound of burning wood.

  “Erin! Clear! Come out the window.”

  She choked on tears and on smoke as she groped for the opening, grabbed hold of the sill and dropped to the ground some seven feet below. The slope sent her into an unanticipated roll that ended with her flat on her back against the roots of a tree.

  Jet reached her first. Her dog licked her face until she sat up and then the dog charged away, likely back to Dalton.