It was striking Manuel now how truly isolated they currently were. Like one lone, tall tree in the middle of a barren plain, drawing every bolt of lightning down upon them.
Something about this whole situation seemed…wrong.
He no longer felt as confident as he had when they’d left Spokane that morning, but he couldn’t admit that. Not with honor and outrage on the line.
Hell, the asshole at the gas station might have already warned Carlomarles about them asking questions, for all he knew. He’d tried being nice in an attempt to buy some time and not raise any alarms, and it likely had done just what he’d hoped to avoid.
In the back seat, Carlos silently sat, listening and not speaking. That was one of the things Manuel liked most about him, that he kept his mouth shut unless being asked a question or he had something important to say.
“Let’s keep going,” Manuel said. “A little farther.” Even though the lack of traffic was starting to creep him out. They would stand out like neon signs at midnight on a moonless night at this rate.
Manuel reached to his waist and felt the comforting bulge of the handgun there. It was easy to smuggle small arms on his jet. The dogs only searched for narcotics or explosives, and he never carried any of either on his jet for that very reason. He either chartered planes or transported cargo like that overland.
He just hoped they’d brought enough ammunition for taking care of putting the animal down.
And then he could finally rest and begin to mourn his brother properly.
Until he settled this business, nothing else mattered.
And he would settle this business.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ken knew he would be lucky if he hadn’t just gotten them both killed, although he suspected Nami might want to wring his neck when they got out of this.
If they got out of it.
He aimed the little Honda directly through the gouge in the trees, as if the path had been cleared especially for them and gunning it to keep from getting stuck. His cup of coffee ended up in the backseat and fortunately not all over them with the first jolt.
His knuckles turned white and he tried to ignore Nami’s long, loud, continuous scream as he did his best to keep the car moving forward and prevent it from flipping or going sideways and rolling as he steered through what looked like a swath of old downed trees, many of them fire-scarred.
They bounced along the slope, the engine free-revving every time the front wheels jumped up into the air and lost contact with the ground. Ken prayed this wouldn’t be the last few seconds of their lives as he dodged younger trees and saplings that grew amongst the uprooted trees and bare spots where it looked cleared. It was like the most nightmarish video game he’d ever played, only with deadly stakes.
As quickly as it’d started, it ended. They slammed to a halt a couple hundred yards down the embankment, where the car’s front end smashed into a large felled tree and stopped their descent. The airbags deployed, making Nami shriek again.
Ken was already tearing the steering wheel air bag out of his way and reaching for his seat belt.
“Come on,” Ken said. “We have to move. Now.”
His instincts told him that he’d only bought them a little bit of time, and they needed to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the men up on the road.
Nami groaned but at least she was conscious and moving. He remembered his phone, looked for it, and found where it’d ended up on the dash, bounced there from the impact. He grabbed it, shoved his door open, and then clambered out. The trunk had popped open upon impact as well, jarring the carpeted spare tire cover, tire, and jack loose.
He spotted the tire iron and snatched it from the trunk. Not much of a weapon, but at least it was something.
Glancing up, he couldn’t see the top of the embankment but he heard male voices yelling at each other in Spanish.
Ken made his way around the back of the car, down the passenger side, and yanked Nami’s door open. “Come on.”
He reached around her and released her seat belt. Then he grabbed her arm and started trying to haul her out of her car.
“Hold on. Gimme a minute, boy. You rang my damn bell.”
“We don’t have a minute. If you’re not seriously hurt then we need to move. Now. They’re going to do way more than ring our freaking bells. If we’re not gone by the time they get down here, we’re dead.”
He believed that with every ounce of his being, the nasty tingle at the base of his spine now a massive, screaming ball of fear and flight instincts. He helped her out, but she stopped him.
“Wait. I need my purse.”
He grabbed it from where it’d landed in the back seat. Then, working on instinct, he grabbed his now-empty coffee cup and tossed it down the slope, to their west, where it landed completely visible between a couple of old downed trees.
“Why’d you do that?”
“Maybe they’ll think we went that way.” He took her hand and led her farther to the south along the slope, picking their way toward the thicker tree cover. “Come on. We have to move.”
“Call Dewi!”
He let go of her arm and looked at his phone. No data service, and only one bar.
He shot off a text message to Dewi first, hoping it would go through, then tried dialing.
A did not send error popped up. No service.
“Shit.” He shoved it back into his pocket. “We have to move. Come on.” Neither of them were dressed for hiking. He, at least, wore jeans and sneakers. Nami had on flats and a skirt. He glanced up and saw that the sky was starting to grow more overcast and hoped it didn’t mean rain.
Or snow. He thought the temperature had dropped from earlier, maybe by a couple of degrees.
Nami dug her phone out of her purse and found she also had no service. “Do you even know where we’re going?”
“No. It doesn’t matter, as long as we put distance between us and them before they get down this damn mountain. They’re not wolves. They can’t track like wolves can.”
He grabbed her arm again and forcibly pulled her with him to get her moving.
“Shouldn’t we head back the other way? Toward town?”
“They might go that way thinking that’s the way we’re going. This way feels right.” Instinct was the only thing guiding him at that point.
That and blind luck, apparently. He still couldn’t believe they’d survived their drive off the side of the mountain.
Taking the lead, he led her farther across the slope, through the trees and heading south without going downhill. He kept glancing behind them, terrified each time that he might see one of them in pursuit.
A tire iron wouldn’t do him any good against a gun. And he guessed they likely had guns.
Hell, a tire iron wouldn’t do him much good except against a guy geekier than himself. Or maybe against a drunk squirrel or something. All he could do was keep them moving and put as much distance between them and their pursuers as he could.
“How are Dewi and Beck going to find us if we run?” she asked.
“Shh! Keep your voice down.”
“We’re gonna get lost!”
He loved Nami like a sister, but he wished she’d shut up and focus on moving instead of wasting precious breath at this high altitude with talking.
“They’ll find us,” he assured her. “Wolves can always find their mates. All we have to do is keep moving and stay alive.”
* * * *
Miguel had been behind the wheel and swore when the little car turned around and raced at them head-on.
“What do I do?” he yelled at Jose.
“Block the road,” Jose ordered. “They were talking about a Joaquin. Manuel wants us to find out what they know.”
Miguel slammed on the brakes and slid to a stop with their car blocking both lanes of the narrow, unpaved road.
At first, he didn’t think the little Honda was going to stop, the guy behind the wheel gunning it and de
termined to play chicken with them.
Then Miguel realized the guy really wasn’t stopping.
“What the fuck?”
He’d actually thrown his arms up, preparing to brace for an impact, when the guy swerved off the road and down a cleared space through the thick trees.
“Shit!” Jose screamed. “Go after him!”
“What? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Go!”
“I am not driving down the side of a fucking mountain after a crazy man!”
He pulled their vehicle forward so they were no longer blocking traffic in the oncoming lane.
Not that there was any traffic on the unpaved road. In either direction, there were no vehicles visible as far as he could see.
And they couldn’t even see the little Honda now, although somewhere far down the slope, beyond their direct line of sight, he spotted a small cloud of steam and smoke rising through the trees.
He parked on a straight section of road just down from the point of impact and threw the vehicle into park, shutting the engine off. As they all jumped out and ran back to take a look, Tomas said it first.
“Fucker has balls, I’ll give him that. He didn’t look like much back there at the store, but he’s got balls. He took that nearly full speed, on purpose.”
Miguel watched Jose run a hand through his hair. “Come on. There’s a turn-around down the road. Go park that thing and get back here. We need to go after them.”
“I’m not going down there,” Miguel said as he eyed the slope. “I can’t climb that.”
“He fucking drove down it,” Jose said. “They knew something was up. They must have spotted us following them. Otherwise, why wouldn’t they have stopped? That means they had to know who we were, and who we were after. That was the act of a desperate man.”
“Or a stupid one,” Miguel argued.
“Or a crazy one,” Tomas muttered.
“If we don’t go down there and see if they’re still alive and what they know about Joaquin Carlomarles, Manuel will have our balls. Literally. Frankly, I’m rather fond of keeping mine. They might go for help and blow things. Unless you want to explain to Manuel that you were too lazy and chickenshit to go after the guy who murdered his brother?”
“Shit. Fine.” Miguel headed back for the car.
This was a bad idea. A really bad idea.
The only thing worse would have been staying back at that store. He didn’t like the way the clerk kept looking at them, like the hick knew way more than he was letting on.
Which Miguel suspected the guy did. Why Manuel had insisted they start asking for information around town bothered the hell out of him. It wasn’t staying under the locals’ radar, that’s for damn sure.
After they’d discovered the legal office was closed, they should have headed back to Spokane to figure out a new plan. At least there they would have blended in and been able to, oh, buy some fucking clothes that were made for hiking around in the woods instead of what they currently wore.
Manuel hadn’t given them much time to prepare and had ordered them to the airport after telling them to pack. What he’d neglected to tell them was what they were supposed to be packing for, that it would include this kind of pursuit.
They were way out of their element here, and way outnumbered. Chasing the guy through Central and South America was one thing. With these crazy Americans and their guns, this was probably not the best place to stand toe-to-toe against the general population.
Especially not in Idaho, of all fucking places. This was like the American headquarters of armed survivalists, if the news was to be believed.
After parking the vehicle, Miguel jogged back to join the others, swearing at his stylish Italian loafers. Hard-soled shoes weren’t the best for this kind of trek. They damned sure weren’t good for climbing.
Tomas had started down the slope, Jose and Aldo watching him from what little shoulder there was on the side of the road.
“I thought you said we had to go down after them,” Miguel snarked.
“Shut up. We’re going one at a time.” Jose grabbed his shoulder and shoved him toward the edge. “You next.”
“Fuck this shit. They’re either hurt or dead.”
“We need proof one way or another.”
Watching Tomas, Miguel figured out where the man had started down and tried to match his path. The loose dirt and rocks kept threatening to dissolve the treacherous slope out from under him and toss him headlong down it. He figured out he needed to practically sit on his ass with his heels dug into the ground to keep from tumbling down the embankment.
He looked up at where Jose and Aldo were watching. “Just how the fuck we getting back up again?”
Jose pointed at the trees on either side of the odd gouge in the landscape. It wasn’t a natural ravine, more like someone had taken the trees out years ago. Or maybe a landslide or something had cleared it. There were old, dead trees, decades-old from the looks of it, on their sides, like they’d been mowed down.
“We’ll have to work from tree to tree on the way back up. We’ll make it.”
“Then get your ass down here, tough guy.”
“I am. As soon as I call Manuel and let him know.” Jose pulled his phone out. “Shit. No signal.”
Miguel stopped his progress. “Either get your ass down here, or I’m coming back up there. I’m not going any farther until you do.”
“Fine.” Jose and Aldo picked starting points and began making their way down.
Only then did Miguel continue his progress. It was a lot farther down than he’d first guessed, too, and he lost sight of Tomas a few times as his footing disappeared under him and he had to throw himself sideways toward the trees to stop his fall. He was beginning to worry he’d end up breaking his neck in the process and suspected getting back up wouldn’t be nearly as easy as Jose said it would.
I am not getting paid enough for this bullshit.
* * * *
“Beck, stop,” Dewi said. “That’s Jack’s car.”
Joaquin was driving and quickly caught up with them from the other direction as they headed for the great hall. After sliding to a stop next to Joaquin and rolling down the window, Beck told him to turn around and follow.
They’d need every Enforcer they could get working on this. Unfortunately, fourteen other Enforcers who would be there for the weddings on Saturday hadn’t arrived yet. If time wasn’t so critical, Dewi would be on the phone to every last one of them now, ordering their asses there ASAP.
“These fuckers couldn’t have waited a few days to start trouble, huh?” Dewi muttered.
“Sure, with a bunch more people and kids around,” Beck said.
“And more Enforcers. Enough to strip the flesh from their bones.”
“You really want a reason to cancel your wedding, don’t you?”
“Not like this,” she grumbled.
When they reached the great hall, they found Peyton inside and calling for attention from the twenty-odd shifters already gathered. When the pack Alpha spoke, people listened.
Especially when nearly everyone wore identically grim expressions.
Peyton unfolded a large map and spread it out on a couple of long folding tables pushed together. It was a satellite map of the compound and surrounding national forest, with the roads and fire trails highlighted.
“Listen up, people. Who’s armed?”
All but four people raised their hands.
“You who aren’t armed. Can you shift?” The three men and one woman nodded.
“Fantastic. How’s your tracking skills?”
They nodded.
“Excellent.”
Dewi spoke up. “How many armed non-shifters?”
Five men and a woman raised their hands.
“You need to pair up with the unarmed shifters,” Dewi said. “They’ll track the intruders and you can shoot their asses.”
“Who, exactly, are we going after?” one guy asked. “Thi
s is a Muster. I don’t know everyone here, and I don’t want to shoot someone innocent just because I don’t know them.”
“Mexican cartel thugs,” Joaquin said. “They are all humans, Hispanic males, and they won’t smell remotely local, or like pack. All men, likely armed. They won’t know anything about wolves or the Muster, and they’re looking for me.”
“Based on what Web told me,” Peyton said, “they aren’t dressed like they’re here for the great outdoors, either. Expensive loafers, slacks, jewelry. Think bad movie cliche for Mexican drug cartel guys, and you’re on target. I wish I was making this up. If in doubt, non-lethally neutralize them and bring them back here and hold them. But if any of ours are at risk from these fucks, don’t hesitate to take them out.”
More people rushed in and they were quickly updated. Peyton started divvying up search areas, concentrating heavier numbers on the southernmost sections of the compound where it was most likely the intruders were located. Dewi checked her phone, but she hadn’t received any calls or texts from Ken yet.
She didn’t miss how Beck frowned as he, too, checked his phone.
“Doesn’t mean anything,” Beck said. “They could be out of range. Or they could be talking and not paying attention to their phones. I would hope you’d want Ken paying attention to the road and not his phone.”
“That doesn’t feel right and you damn well know it.”
“I know the pack Alpha has given us our marching orders.” Beck’s blue gaze bore into Dewi’s. “If any of these thugs so much as lays a hand on one of ours, I’ll rip their arm out of the socket and beat them with it. Before I kill them.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ken’s heart pounded in his chest as he led Nami toward the south and away from the crash scene. He didn’t want to waste energy talking, he wanted to move.
A Bleacke Wind (Bleacke Shifters Book 3) Page 21
