Colorado Manhunt Page 2

  She nodded, wide eyes full of fear.

  Noah moved back the way they’d come. Both men were still outside. One watching the cabin, the other on a phone. Calling in the fact that they had found Amy? He didn’t like the idea of more men showing up.

  Noah reached out with his foot and kicked the front door shut, then ducked to the side. Gunshots peppered the wood as he fired two shots through the window, obliterating the glass and screen.

  He ran for the back door. They could get out, it was clear. Both men were out front and waiting...for whatever it was they were waiting for. Noah wasn’t going to do that.

  He and Amy were getting out of there.

  “Go, Amy! Now!” he called out loud enough she could hear, but not so loud it would be audible from out front.

  In a flash of the dark material of her jacket, he saw her run.

  Noah caught up at the back door just as she pulled it open. Amy stepped back and to the side, and he moved around her. If he’d explained what he wanted her to do, there was no way it would have come out that smoothly. Thank You, God. They moved as though he’d protected her for years. And in a way, he had. He’d just been doing it from afar since the trial.

  A whole year.

  Now they met like this?

  Noah exited first, gun up. Amy tapped his shoulder.

  “Come on.” He grabbed her hand and they ran for the trees.

  Snow lay a couple of feet deep around the cabin. Amy steered them to a trodden-down path, crunchy rutted snow she’d apparently walked frequently.

  The cold air chilled his hands, and the material of her glove over the hand he held. He picked up their pace as they headed along the path. They would be out in the open until they got to the tree line. How far did her path go? And where did it lead?

  He was about to ask her when she said, “Careful of—”

  Noah’s foot hit a patch of slick snow and he stumbled. His leg gave out, and his knee hit hard-packed snow. He grunted, but held the reaction back.

  “You okay?”

  He nodded and got his feet under him. He kept running, still holding her hand. He’d probably squeezed it to death for a second there, when his brain had realized his body was falling. Noah kept scanning the area as they ran. Waiting for the second when those gunmen figured out they’d escaped out the back and set off in pursuit.

  Thankfully, the ground was so frozen they weren’t making any tracks on the rutted path. Unfortunately, however, that meant his knee throbbed with every step.

  He gritted his teeth and pushed on.

  “You’re not okay.” Her voice came out breathy.

  “Doesn’t matter.” Maybe she was scared, and sympathy gave her something to think about beyond the fear. Whatever the reason, he liked that she cared. What he didn’t like was that they weren’t at the tree line yet.

  A shot rang out.

  Amy squealed. They both ducked and pressed on, running hunched over. They couldn’t veer from the path or they’d be wading in snow. Noah ran as hard and fast as he could, praying with every step that neither of them slipped.

  The second he passed the first tree, he entertained the idea they might make it. Noah sucked in a breath. Tried to calm his exhale. Otherwise he was going to end up passing out.

  The pathway angled to the east, and they ran along it.

  He slowed, turned as he ran. Checked behind them. Those men were coming. “Where does this go?”

  “Into town.”

  Would they make it that far?

  * * *

  Amy wanted to whimper. What would giving in to the fear accomplish? That hadn’t helped during the trial. It wouldn’t help now, when her brother was coming after her. Whether that meant he would show up here in person, or send men to abduct her, she didn’t know. Could be he’d only escaped in order to force the marshals to show up at her house. All part of his plan to get revenge on her.

  Use the marshals to flush her out, and then kill her.

  Without her bag, which she’d dropped before they ran out, Amy had exactly one thing that might keep her alive. But revealing her secret to her brother meant putting an innocent person in danger. It was the last thing she wanted to do, despite the fact it could save her life.

  Could she die to protect her nephew’s life?

  Absolutely.

  In a way, she already had. The person she used to be had perished. Now she was...someone entirely different, living an entirely different life hundreds of miles from who she was. Hundreds of miles from wherever Anthony was.

  They ran at least another two miles until she saw the tree. Gnarled and crusty, it had been hit by lightning. Split in two. She liked to sit on it and rest, on her way into or coming home from town.

  A couple of times a month, Amy walked to church. Or for a slice of pie from the diner. In summer she did it a lot more. This time of year it was harder to get around. She’d been thinking about an ATV. Too late now. Would have come in handy today, though.

  “You okay?”

  She glanced over. “You’re the one limping.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Going to play the stoic hero, protecting the damsel in distress?”

  He shot her a look. “Not a cliché if it’s actually what’s happening.” He shrugged. “This is where we are. We can either complain, or we can figure out how to get to a vehicle.”

  “I was thinking more like go to the sheriff’s office.”

  “Does he know who you really are?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course not. That’s why you’re here, right?” He didn’t say anything then, just scanned the area around them. She didn’t believe they’d lost those guys. Only that they’d gotten far enough ahead running flat out that they had a second to catch their breath.

  Then she saw them out the corner of her eye.

  “We should—”

  He didn’t need to finish. Amy said, “Hide.”

  “I was going to say ‘go.’ But ‘hide’ works.” He followed her around to the back of the tree. It was big enough that it should conceal them until these guys moved on. Then maybe they could go back to the cabin, and Noah’s car.

  Amy watched as the two gunmen came into view. They both looked around, and then the other gunman pulled out a phone. No, not a phone. That one had a radio.

  “Probably checking in,” Noah whispered, crouched beside her. He tugged his cell from his pocket, and she saw him send a text message. Or try to. “I have no signal.”

  The gunman on the phone looked to be having problems, too. He looked at the screen of his phone, clearly frustrated.

  Amy leaned closer to him. “Should we make a run for it?”

  Noah shook his head. “We’re safer out of sight. For now. Hiding was a good idea.” He turned to watch the two men, and she got the chance to look at his face in profile.

  Strong features. He probably thought his ears were too big, but she’d always thought they fit his face. She wondered what he’d looked like as a kid. If he’d gone through that awkward phase everyone seemed to have around middle school, and into high school. Then again, maybe he’d always been like this.

  Steady. Protective. He’d probably had a best friend he’d helped keep safe from bullies. Or a neighborhood kid. Like that boy with Down syndrome on her street when she’d been growing up. She’d loved handing out candy on Halloween, just because he would come and she’d get to see him smile like it was Christmas.

  “Amy.”

  She blinked away the memories. “What?”

  He pointed over her shoulder. She turned, facing the fact she couldn’t live in her memories. The good times were long gone. Nothing in her life right now was even close to that, even though she’d been working hard to be happy. Or at least trying to find some piece of “happy.”

  On the opposite side of where t
hey crouched, huddled behind the tree, two more men approached. Gunmen, or hunters? It could hardly be a coincidence that more gunmen happened to find them here.

  Had her brother sent a whole army to find her? And how was it that they seemed to be closing in on their hiding spot? These gunmen had to know where she and Noah were somehow, which meant they couldn’t stay here.

  She turned back to him, ready to tell him that.

  “Time to run.” He didn’t look happy about it, but if he thought they should do it, then she was going to. Noah would go with what he thought would keep her alive. She was trusting him to keep them both alive.

  Amy shifted around, ready to sprint, and saw that look in his eyes. One she’d seen a few times, all of them a year ago during the trial. A look that said he cared more than he was going to say about her.

  She looked away from it now, because it wasn’t going to help. During the trial she’d let those thoughts distract her. They’d been a nice distraction, taking a few seconds in the middle of the insanity to think about what might have been. Right now it wasn’t going to help. Not when the reality was that their lives were incompatible. He was a marshal. She was a witness living in seclusion.

  Who knew if they would even survive today?

  THREE

  With every step into the snow, Noah wondered if it would be their last. Would their bodies be found in spring, when the snow melted? He couldn’t help the shudder as they trudged. Quietly. As quick as they could. Crouched down, wading through the snow.

  Trying not to get shot.

  “Which way is town?” His phone wasn’t loading the Maps app, so he had no idea where they were. Let alone where they were going.

  “That way.” She pointed left, her arm angled behind her at the seven o’clock position.

  “But...”

  “Come on. I know where we can go.”

  Noah frowned, but continued to follow. If he argued with her it could draw attention to them. They were far too exposed as it was. Essentially crawling through the brush and snow trying to get away from gunmen in the woods searching for them.

  “Hey!”

  The cry rang out. Snow drifted from the branches of a tree. It was beautiful, if it wasn’t going to be the last thing he saw before he was killed, before Amy was taken by hired guns and delivered to her brother to be executed.

  “Go!” He hauled her to her feet and they ran.

  Shots resounded through the forest, the sound harsh and far too loud out here in the still winter of the Colorado wilderness.

  Noah spun around and fired back. A gunman fell.

  He caught up to Amy and they kept going, tearing through the trees. He had no idea where they were headed but had to rely on her knowledge of this area. Presumably she’d hiked it. Maybe she’d even prepared for an eventuality such as this. Witnesses were counseled about the possible need for escape plans. Hopefully she’d taken the marshals service’s advice and done it well. He wanted to believe that. To trust her. But only time would tell. Noah had to do what was best for her.

  Whether or not she liked it, or agreed with him, there may come a point when he had to make a choice.

  If he was going to die for anyone—as much as he didn’t want to think about that—then he would rather it was her than someone else.

  Just Amy.

  A couple more shots rang out. Farther away this time.

  He looked back and saw two guys in an argument. Whatever that was about, he didn’t know. But he thanked God for it and kept running.

  Maybe they’d been ordered not to kill Amy, but to abduct her instead? Or none of them liked the idea of killing a US Marshal. Whatever the reason they were arguing and not racing after the two people fleeing, he wasn’t going to object.

  “This way.” Amy changed directions.

  Hopefully they could get far enough, fast enough, those guys would lose them. But he’d thought that with the SUV on the highway and the vehicle had pulled up at Amy’s cabin.

  As though they knew exactly where she was.

  Like maybe he had led them there.

  Noah pulled out his phone. No signal, which meant he wasn’t being tracked. Possibly they could’ve tracked his phone to the cabin. Someone at the marshals service would’ve had to have leaked the information that it was him headed to her. Or they’d been hacked.

  Seemed like they were doing a coordinated search now. Pinning them down out here. They would probably leave Noah bleeding in the snow and take Amy.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Why wouldn’t he be? His knee hurt, but that wasn’t the point. “Why?”

  “You made a funny noise.”

  Was he supposed to tell her that the thought of being left for dead while she was taken was like how he imagined the sudden realization that he’d been shoved off a cliff would feel? He didn’t even know if he could put it into words. Let alone do that while they were on the run.

  He’d try and explain later, if they got the chance. Until then, he’d have to make sure that didn’t happen.

  Noah glanced back but couldn’t see anyone in pursuit. “I’m fine. Just go...wherever we’re going.” Up ahead a cabin came into view. “That?”

  “It’s a hunting cabin.” They jogged over to it.

  “They’ll know we’re in here as soon as they see it.”

  “I know.” She didn’t stop. “But there’s a radio in there. And supplies.”

  A couple minutes to stop, and then they moved on? “Let’s be quick.”

  He halted her at the front door. Noah scanned outside, then went in first. He kept her in sight at all times. When he’d looked in, sure there was no one waiting, he waved her to enter. Then shut the door.

  “Don’t turn on any of the lights—”

  She finished for him. “And stay away from the windows.”

  Amy knew the drill. A fact he appreciated, about as much as he didn’t like that it was necessary. She had the tools. She’d been through this before, and during the trial. That would help keep both of them safe now.

  She was the kind of person who deserved to have a peaceful, safe life. Not one where she was constantly on the run, scared because her brother wanted to kill her.

  If he hadn’t escaped...

  Dreaming that it hadn’t happened wasn’t going to help. Wishful thinking, or denial, wouldn’t keep the bullets from flying at them. It didn’t matter what he thought her life should have been, or the good a person like Amy deserved. After all, she’d done the right thing. The place they were right now, and the situation they were in, took precedence.

  She held the receiver of a radio in her hand.

  “What is it?” Noah walked over. “Is it not working?”

  Maybe they’d killed the radio signal somehow. His cell didn’t have any bars. He’d figured this middle of nowhere wilderness was just one of those dead spots. A broken radio on top of that?

  “It’s just...” The fear hadn’t left those bright green eyes of hers. “What if they’re listening? They’ll know where we are when I tell the sheriff.”

  “Tell the sheriff.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the door. “Then we’re out of here before they can show up.”

  He turned and looked around while she got on the radio and spoke with the dispatcher. He searched for anything useful they could take with them. This was like some kind of communal cabin. A place to crash after a long day of hunting, all the things here common use. Take one, leave one of something else. A cooperative effort to stay out of the weather without hauling in a tent or it costing money.

  If they had to stay here, they could. But it wasn’t safe—not when there were gunmen in the area.

  They had to keep moving.

  * * *

  “Thank you.” She replaced the handset on the tabletop and turned, her stomach a ball of knots. She want
ed the distraction of gathering up her bag but didn’t even have that.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded. “They’re going to have someone meet us on the highway. If those men are listening in somehow, then we’ll have to find a place to hide.”

  Behind a tree again? That had worked before, but she didn’t like the idea of being pinned down waiting for death. It seemed like that had happened several times since Noah had shown up.

  She wanted to run again, holding his hand. Amy wasn’t a coward. She couldn’t have done what she’d done and testified against a whole cartel if she had been. She’d have caved when the first death threats came in.

  She’d been alone for a year now, trying to figure out how to trust people. How to not give in to the fear and let it swallow her whole. Sure, she’d basically retreated. She rode her bicycle or walked to work, interacting with her boss and their customers at the bookstore. She knew how to make a fabulous caramel macchiato that Noah would probably think was way too sweet. But she never connected with people.

  She wasn’t ready yet.

  Or she hadn’t been, until Noah showed up in the snow.

  Someone moved past the window.

  Amy swallowed back a scream. Choked on it. Noah spun from her to the window, putting her behind him. Whoever walked through the door would meet him first. Their bullets would hit him first.

  It was enough to make her drown in the fear. That mental image of him falling. The blood.

  A whimper worked its way up her throat. She shoved it back down. Why did she have to react like that every time? If she wasn’t about to be killed she might try to work on being braver, but there wasn’t time.

  She looked around for a weapon. Her gaze snagged on a latch...on the floor.

  Noah had his weapon out. She crouched and grasped at the latch. Pulled it up and open. A trapdoor. Inside were wooden stairs leading down. “I think this is an old root cellar, or something.” They could hide inside.

  Behind him, boots pounded on the front steps.

  “Come on,” she whispered.

  He had to hurry, or they would be found. Not waiting for him, Amy stumbled down the steps. One hand out straight, she slammed it into a wall. Dirt. This was an old root cellar, like an Old West refrigerator. And it was freezing down here.