by Ty Patterson
The girl heard him. Screamed in warning when she saw him.
Too late.
Julio was already flying, landing on Zeb, bringing him down.
His knife stabbing downwards.
Chapter Fifty
Zeb couldn’t react in time.
He was half-turned when Julio’s body slammed into him.
He fell on his right shoulder. Rolled so that he lay on his back.
Instinctively brought his right hand up to block the knife.
Gritted his teeth, pouring all his strength into warding off its killing strike.
Sweat fell on him, dripping from the attacker’s face.
The man was screaming, yelling.
Zeb heard something about killing Enrico.
Mexican. Tavez’s man.
Something struck him on the left shoulder. Right on the wound.
He groaned but didn’t yield, his wrist firmly blocking the assailant’s knife hand.
Rocks pricked his back. The three rifles strapped to him dug into his flesh.
His injured leg burned like it had been dipped in hot oil.
Still, he didn’t yield.
If I die, she dies.
I made her a promise.
Something moved at the edge of his vision.
The girl.
Approaching them.
Swinging her AK.
‘Stay out,’ he grunted.
She held back.
The attacker eased off a fraction to look up, presenting an opening for Zeb.
He lunged and bit the man’s ear.
The Mexican howled and struggled to get free.
Zeb didn’t let up.
He kept yanking with his teeth and simultaneously smashing Julio’s knife hand on the rocks.
The weapon fell away.
The attacker didn’t give up or try to get away.
He punched Zeb hard on the chest. Hauled back to aim a blow at his face.
Zeb was in the zone.
His vision was sharp. His senses were acute.
He was pinned down still. The threat level was still high.
But the savage fighter in him had surfaced.
With his forearm, he deflected the incoming blow.
Jabbed at the enemy’s eyes.
Drew an agonized bellow from him.
Punched the throat.
The scream choked away.
With a massive heave, Zeb threw the man away.
Followed through with a roundhouse punch.
Smashed an elbow into the attacker’s ribs and heard a sharp crack above the ensuing shriek.
Julio kicked out.
Thrashed out wildly.
Zeb evaded the blows easily.
Pinned him down by leaning on his waist.
A slap rocked the assailant’s face to the left.
Another sent it rolling to the right.
Zeb knew a slap was one of the most potent strikes in a fighter’s arsenal. Landed correctly, with power, it could wreak tremendous damage.
It was also an insolent blow. It signified contempt.
Domination over an attacker.
That was the effect Zeb was going for.
‘Who are you?’ he grunted in Spanish.
The hitter’s eyes flickered. Surprise, mixed with anger and fear.
‘You killed Enrico,’ he growled, and tried to go on the offense.
Another slap shook several of his teeth loose and split his lips.
‘Ma’am,’ Zeb called out, ‘start swimming!’
‘But—’
‘Ma’am, start swimming.’
Zeb risked a quick glance when he heard splashing.
Sara Ashland was in the water, moving with powerful strokes.
He pressed a thumb on the attacker’s neck, at a pressure point that made the gunman’s body shudder.
‘It’s question time.’
Chapter Fifty-One
Zeb didn’t kill Julio.
Instead, he dislocated both his shoulders and tied his ankles together with his shoelaces.
One last time, before plunging into the water, he looked up the bank.
Julio said Tavez and his men are a few hours away. They were sleeping when he left.
The cold water braced him, revived him. Made him temporarily forget the throbbing in his body.
His swim was a slow crawl, his eyes on the girl as she clambered onto the bank opposite and waited for him.
He raised an arm and pointed at the trees.
A burst of warmth flooded him when she hustled towards their protection.
She would fit in well with the twins. Beth, Meghan—she’s just like them.
Not letting grief weigh her down.
A darker thought entered his mind.
We have been moving almost nonstop since she escaped from Namir. She’s had no time to process her father’s death.
He turned on his back to look back. No hostile presence.
He slowed down even further as he approached the bank.
The bottom of the river was uneven.
He had to place his feet carefully.
Can’t afford a sprain. Not on top of a bad thigh.
He shook himself like a dog when he was out of the water.
Checked the two HKs and the M24.
They were badly scratched, but not bent.
His Glocks were wet; however, they would work.
His knives were tight around his right leg.
All weapons intact.
He climbed the bank and, when he was under the shade of trees, she came from behind a ponderosa.
‘Took you long enough,’ she quipped, her eyes not reflecting her light tone.
She looked him up and down, her eyes lingering on the dark bandage on his leg.
‘I was fighting, ma’am. In case you didn’t notice.’
‘I thought you Special Ops folks could deal with such men with one hand.’
‘I have just one hand and one leg, ma’am.’
‘What did he say?
‘I am waiting.’ Impatient. A hand on her hip, when he didn’t reply immediately.
‘Tavez has joined forces with Namir.’
Chapter Fifty-Two
He turned his back around when she removed the AK and unzipped her hoodie.
He heard her strip and wring water out of her clothes.
‘That’s not good.’
He looked over his shoulder, then turned when she had shrugged back into her hoodie.
‘No, ma’am.’
Enrico said Namir introduced himself as Leopard. That’s proof, if I needed it. That’s the escaped war criminal, hunting us.
‘We should get out of here,’ she snapped impatiently when he made no move.
‘I am tired of running.’
A vein throbbed on her neck.
A splash from the river.
Fish. Arcing in the air and falling gracefully.
‘You’re suggesting we fight both gangs?’ she asked, incredulous.
‘Namir—he and his men aren’t behind us.’
‘They’ve given up?’
‘No. They are heading to Erilyn. To attack us from that direction.’
She chewed her lips as he tore yet another strip off his T-shirt and used it to clean his weapons.
When he held a hand out, she gave him the AK and watched as he expertly dismantled it, wiped each part, and put it back together.
‘You can do that in the dark?’ she asked absentmindedly.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
And blindfolded.
‘How many men does Tavez have?’
‘He had eleven. Now, seven.’
‘And Namir?’
‘Ten. That was one of his men that I shot.’
‘They won’t give up?’ A forlorn hope in her voice.
‘No, ma’am.’
‘You have a plan?’
‘Sort of.’
His plan consisted of waiting.
He figured the cartel would take the same route as J
ulio had.
This was one of the calmer spots in the river.
If I were Tavez, I would come here.
He found a good shooting site: a natural depression in the ground, bushes to cover him, and boulders that he rolled over it, to shield him.
He was above, the river below.
Firing angle was from high to low.
Very little wind.
Great visibility.
Good shooting conditions.
He chewed on a piece of beef jerky as he settled down to wait, Sara Ashland next to him, taking on the role of spotter.
He had asked her to go farther back. Make herself comfortable. Catch some sleep.
Her lip had curled stubbornly in the manner he had come to recognize.
Never go against an obstinate teenager.
The sun climbed into the sky and beat down on them as the minutes became hours.
He heard her breathing slow and turn into the rhythm of sleep, but didn’t stop his vigil.
It was late afternoon when she stirred, brushed hair from her eyes and stifled a yawn.
She watched, mouth agape, as he stood up and slung the M24 behind him.
‘What? Aren’t you going to shoot them as they come?’
‘They aren’t coming.’
Chapter Fifty-Three
‘How do you know that?’ Sara Ashland hurried to catch up with Zeb as he strode into the forest.
He took his time replying.
He was thinking of the area’s map. The river curled around an outcropping and disappeared from view. Whitewater, out of their sight.
‘They would have come by now. Tavez won’t risk a crossing in the night. They have found some other place to cross.’
‘So, both teams are ahead of us?’ she asked fearfully.
‘Not necessarily. They have the same problem that we have. They don’t know where we are. Just as we don’t know where they are.’
‘So, we are going to Erilyn?’
He stopped and adjusted an HK, wiping sweat from his face.
‘Not yet. We need to reduce their numbers.’
‘But you don’t know where they are!’
‘We make them come to us.’
She screamed and dropped to the ground when his Glock leaped to his palm and he fired.
‘What?’ she rose shakily and looked at what he had shot.
‘Food, ma’am. We’ll run out of supplies soon.’
He went to the rabbit, shielding it from her with his body, and started stripping it with his knife.
Zeb took no pleasure in hunting. He usually fished for food when he was in the wilderness. However, needs had to be met.
He washed the flesh, cut it into smaller portions, and packed it in their bag.
He squinted at the sky; a few more hours to dark.
Sara Ashland fell in beside him as they resumed their fast hike.
‘That shot. You didn’t clean up behind us. I’ve noticed you always do. You’re leaving a trail for them.’
‘Yes, ma’am. Now to find the right place to wait.’
They found it ninety minutes later.
The forest thinned out, became a flat plain, and then turned rocky, dotted with knee-high grass and waist-high bushes.
‘Here?’ she asked, looking left, right, and then to the skies. ‘This is right in the open. They can pick us off from a distance.’
‘So can we. But this is just the bait.’ He pointed.
A couple of miles in the distance, the hard ground gave way to what looked like a hole between two hills. A narrow ravine with steep, rocky sides, sparsely vegetated, with large boulders alarmingly perched above on the cliffs.
‘That will be the trap.’
They jogged lightly, Zeb wincing. The girl didn’t comment when she caught his expression.
They slowed them as they approached the passage between the hills, which was far narrower than it had seemed: twelve feet wide at the bottom, a dry stream bed, with craggy hills on each side rising to about two hundred feet.
The valley petered out after just half a mile, and then the forest resumed.
‘Here?’
‘Yes, ma’am. This will be our kill zone.’
Chapter Fifty-Four
Zeb and Sara Ashland went back to the flat area and lit a fire. Not big, but large enough to be visible from the forest.
He undressed his wound and dropped some of the bloodied strips to the ground.
Made new bandages from the girl’s T-shirt and bound his thigh again.
‘That’s for them to find?’
‘Yeah. Only one of them.’
They headed back to the valley and, behind a rock near its entrance, he smudged the ground with his feet.
He placed sticks close together, the makings for a fire, and dropped the other dressing.
‘They will suspect it’s a trap.’
‘Yes, ma’am. However, they will still come. Tavez wants us badly enough that he will risk it.’
There were loose boulders on the canyon floor, which had rolled down from the hills in the distant past.
He tested a few of them.
Some of them moved.
He heaved at one and, when the girl joined in, succeeded in rolling it right into the center of the valley.
They shifted more rocks, placing them strategically throughout the passage.
‘That,’ he said, brushing his hands against his trousers, ‘will slow them down. It will split them up. The strength in numbers that they have … they will lose that.’
‘Where will we be? This will become too small for all of us.’
‘Up there,’ he pointed to the cliff face on their left.
It was almost barren. No vegetation. Clumps of stone and rubble. A few rocks that looked like they could tip over anytime. The few trees on the cliff were widely spaced out.
‘There’s nothing there to shelter us,’ she protested. ‘That side, on the right, has more cover.’
The other slope did offer more protection. It was uneven. Hollows and bushes. Several firs. There was one particular spot that Zeb liked—a large slab of stone, underneath which was a hole through which they could see the sky.
‘Tavez will expect us to be there,’ he countered. ‘There won’t be an element of surprise.’
They climbed the barren slope and made a cold camp behind the largest stone.
In a small, natural depression.
Behind them, the hill rose, pointing defiantly at the sky.
The hollow shields us from the top. It reduces our view, too, but that’s a chance I’ll take.
The downstream shooting angle was good. Visibility was still good.
He broke open a can of food and handed it to her.
They ate quickly, using the knives to spear the dried meat slices. He buried the can and waited.
M24 to his shoulder. One HK and both Glocks beside him.
Ready to take on the Mexican cartel. Reduce the odds.
Joachim Tavez surprised him.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Zeb knew his plan had failed when he heard the sound.
It was eight pm. A dark sky. A few stars and a distant moon.
The slopes were full of shadows, as was the ravine. No movement down below.
However, his ears had pricked and he had gone to full alert.
It was a slither he had heard, the sound of clothing scraping against rock.
From behind them.
He strained his ears, opening his eyes as wide as possible to take in light.
Nope. Nothing below.
There! The sound came again.
From above them on the hillside.
Sara Ashland was sleeping beside him. He didn’t wake her.
He moved slowly. Face turning. Left elbow coming up to cover its paleness.
Waited for his eyes to adjust.
Saw nothing but the rim of their depression. A few trees beyond it. A large rock.
Then the sound again.
Cl
oser, this time.
Probably twenty feet away.
Now, a clatter of stones.
A sudden absence of noise.
Zeb couldn’t help grinning.
Someone had been careless. And had now frozen.
Long moments passed.
A scrape.
Something broke the skyline.
A head.
To his right.
A body appeared.
Something gleaming in the light.
A rifle pointed forward.
The shooter inched forward, his eyes straight ahead, peering at the valley below.
Another head to Zeb’s left.
At the edge of his vision.
The second hitter, too, was intent on the ravine.
Why didn’t they spot our hollow?
He rifled through his memory, remembering the topography.
Maybe from the top it appears to be even ground.
The two men passed him.
He waited for interminable minutes.
No further movement from the top.
These two are scouts? An advance team to check the valley?
They now appeared below him.
Still moving slowly.
Crouching slightly. Placing their feet with care.
Another thought intruded.
They could be hikers.
He snapped a glance behind him.
No more hitters.
He considered his options.
The girl was safest where she was.
There were two rocks, far to his right. They would offer cover if needed.
He grabbed a handful of loose soil and tossed it to his right, into the valley.
The two shooters reacted instantly.
They dropped and shot in the direction of the sound.
Not hikers.
The girl awoke.
He cupped a palm over her mouth.
She nodded.
Stay here.
She bobbed her head again.
He brought the M24 to his shoulder.
Sighted.
Pulled the trigger smoothly till it broke.
Inched the barrel. Took a shot at the second man.
Rose to a crouch. Ran to the distant rock he had seen to his right.
Saw the fallen shooters move.
So, mine weren’t kill shots.
Threw himself to the ground, the rifle coming up automatically.
