A Bleacke Wind (Bleacke Shifters Book 3) (26 page)

None of them were dressed for this shit, and none of them looked like they remotely belonged in the area. Scouting the rugged rural terrain by car would be virtually impossible without being spotted.

Then again, he had a pocket full of cash, and they all had guns. That would likely be enough to ensure the cooperation they needed from the local hicks.

The sky was beginning to cloud up a bit, too. In fact, it looked like it might be working up to rain later. Maybe even snow if the temperature dropped enough.

“Wait,” Manuel said.

Guillermo brought the car to a stop.

Manuel looked around. Since reaching this area, what had been marked as part of the national forest surrounding it, they hadn’t seen any other cars. Which seemed unusual based on the way the main road had looked, all the car tracks, like it was really busy.

He didn’t like feeling unsure.

Checking his phone again, he still had no service.

They were separated from the others, in a strange territory, out of contact, and definitely outnumbered by the locals.

Dammit.

He had honestly thought he’d walk into the office in town, smile at some bubble-headed receptionist, talk his way into someone’s office…

And then pull his gun and demand answers.

He hadn’t honestly expected going on an actual hunt. A lot of his dealings now were with “corporations.” They had to appear legal to skirt past the law. People in offices were usually easy to intimidate and extract information from.

Why the hell would an office be closed for this long this time of year? Over the holidays, yes, he’d understand that. But a legal office that was closed for a damned
month
? And no telling how long it had been closed before they arrived.

That had been miscalculation number one.

When they’d chased the animal from Raul’s home, yes they’d had to cross national borders, but they’d been in their own territory, so to speak. They’d had allies, or at least people they could pay to be loyal for the duration of their time there. They’d all spoken the language and fit in. They’d counted on and received help, especially when they told people why they were chasing the man.

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 determined 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.