Buried Flames (15 page)

“And you think you can make it there with just the two of you?” Ace questioned somewhat doubtfully.

“I’ve been in worse situations with less equipment,” Mason said nonchalantly, but Brenna didn’t doubt he believed what he was saying. The men and women who fought for their country could never truly describe what they experienced, could they? Civilians could only take a guess at the mental and physical toll. “You are aware that the ash is probably the least of our worries? There will be no communication, no clean water, limited food, and a pending ice age that will be unlike anything we’ve ever seen or even read about. A valley alone can’t provide us the protection we need nor the supplies that will be necessary.”

Brenna turned her attention back to Ace, who was staring intently at Mason and gauging his reaction. This man was running out of options and she wondered if he wouldn’t try to go for his weapon at some point, but then changed her mind on that assumption. He wouldn’t, most likely believing Mason would put him down first. Her odds were with Mason and now they appeared to be at an impasse, but everything had changed when Ace spoke of Lost Summit as if the team up there was his instead of Mason’s old unit. He couldn’t just let that go, could he?

“It’s a good offer, Marine.”

Brenna couldn’t remember Mason telling Ace what branch of service he was in, but it didn’t appear to bother him as he reached for their bags. There appeared to be an underlying war between the two men that had nothing to do with this current situation and she was helpless to understand its complexities.

“You’ll have to do better than that, blackhat,” Mason said derisively, gesturing for Brenna to remain vigilant while he started taking their satchels and saddling up Major and Sergeant. She didn’t know what blackhat meant, but it obviously wasn’t a compliment. When Mason started to put the harness on Sergeant, the action made her realize even if Ace did come with them, there wasn’t much room and he didn’t have a mask to protect him from the ash. “Do they have natural springs? Do they have enough provisions? What are they doing up in the mountains anyway and why weren’t you with them already? There are a lot of unanswered questions—too many variables that haven’t been filled in. That doesn’t sway my decision in your direction. You’re on your own, Fairfax. Good luck.”

M
ason could have
easily been back in time with his team under fire in one of those high stress situations, doing everything they could to see the mission through while getting their collective asses out of the shit in one piece. He had always been able to play poker with the best of them. His face was a complete blank, which might be the only thing keeping them alive right now. Fairfax couldn’t have described Lost Summit any better to Mason, which posed a problem. Were Tank, Mav, and the rest of the residents in danger of losing their foothold in the mountains to this guy’s team of paramilitary blackhats?

“I’ll make you a deal.”

“Another option then?” Mason asked wryly, doing his best to focus on the task at hand while Brenna kept an eye on their adversary. He stroked a calming hand down Sergeant’s muzzle, reassuring his companion that everything was all right. His fur had been brushed, but it didn’t have the shine it normally had. Mason would do everything in his power to see to it that these animals made it to the relative safety of Lost Summit Lodge. “You’re smokescreening me and I don’t have time for your fucked up bullshit.”

This entire confrontation was making Brenna uneasy. That was a good thing, because she would be on her guard. Her senses would be heightened. Fairfax wasn’t to be trusted, but Mason needed to decide if he was going to eliminate him now or take him with them to mitigate the dangers of running into the people who were hunting them. If what he was saying was the truth and there were men trailing him, Fairfax couldn’t be trusted not to lead them to Lost Summit or divulge their location to a larger group of well-armed bad actors.

Mason wasn’t so sure Brenna would understand him purging a threat in the manner he was considering, but it was the time for the art of war. Strategy needed to be decisive, timely, and free of emotional debris. The tactics of the thing was plain as the back of his own hand. Agree to the terms he offered now and then shoot him in the back of the head when they cleared the area. Many civilians didn’t truly understand the cost of war, but it wasn’t up to him to explain it to her either. He would be tried for his many sins on Judgment Day and not before.

“Let me use your HF radio and you can speak with my team leader yourself,” Fairfax offered, knowing he was losing ground. He was making his own calculated assumptions, such as Mason’s branch of service or what supplies he might have on hand. Mason didn’t give an inch one way or the other in regards to if he’d guessed right or wrong. “If you don’t like what he has to say, leave me here to my own devices.”

“Mason,” Brenna said almost desperately, tucking a lose strand of hair away from her face as she shot him a pleading look. “I can’t keep you safe if what he says is true.”

Was that what she was worried about? Mason never let his attention wander off of the current situation, but he did find it interesting that out of all the shit they had to be concerned about, Brenna was agonizing over whether or not she could keep him alive. He sure as hell didn’t deserve that kind of sacrifice from her.

“I don’t need you to contact your team leader.” Mason concentrated on getting Major outfitted in his improvised harness, which made him wonder exactly where Fairfax’s supplies were. He didn’t come unprepared, so that meant he’d stashed them somewhere out of sight. “Grab your stuff and we’ll figure out a way to make this work.”

Mason could sense Fairfax’s eyes on him, sizing up his offer while he tried to decipher just how sincere the offer was. Right now, there was nothing to lose in allowing this spook, a person who had a completely unknown agenda, to assume things were status quo between them. For now, it would give him time to speak with Brenna when Fairfax went to gather his items, because Mason had decided to take Ace along with them until they had cleared the area. He reached out and pulled Brenna close.

“You’ll ride with me,” Mason murmured to Brenna, hearing her breath hitch and feeling the jerk of her body. Her blue eyes sought out his with approval. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve done things you can’t imagine to keep my team alive and the same will go for you when the time comes. I’ll kill him without a second thought if I think there’s a chance in hell he’s leading us into some kind of crap. As I was saying, you’ll be with me. You’ll do what I tell you, when I tell you to do it. We’ll have to distribute the weight evenly, so he’ll be taking some of the heavier supplies…the shit we can survive without, if it comes down to us needing to leave him behind in a hurry. Any argument from you on this and I’ll drop him right here and now.”

“And what about these men who are after him? Won’t they hear the shot?” Brenna whispered, casting a look over her shoulder. Fairfax still hadn’t returned, which could only mean he was loading additional weapons onto his lethal frame. He could do whatever he wanted, but then again, so could Mason at any point. His spare pistol was currently residing on her right hip. So much for backup should he need it. The only other option was the Ka-Bar sheathed at his waist. “Do you think they’re outside waiting on us to show ourselves?”

“No, or else they would have already come in after Fairfax,” Mason reasoned, brushing the back of his finger across Brenna’s pale cheek before he realized what he was doing. She was so fucking perfect, with her heart-shaped face and beauty. Add on the courage she exhibited and he wished like hell he could change who he was and give her what she needed. “Stay close to me, Brenna. I don’t want you getting hurt. This whole thing could turn on a dime and then you’ll see a side of me that you’ve never seen before.”

Mason quickly dropped his hand and stepped back, watching for any sign of Fairfax. It wasn’t long before he made an appearance, carrying a bag on his right shoulder away from his injury. It was a rucksack, a component part of a larger load-bearing equipment group. It was military issue with the exception that it was black and not standard issue. Well, if that didn’t just add insult to injury—hanging off the side was a gasmask after all. The funny thing was that it was the latest military issue M50 Avon mask suspended off a custom heavy black canvas carrier, which surely carried enough replacement filters to get him to Lost Summit.

Something wasn’t sitting right with Mason. It was almost as if Fairfax had known the Yellowstone caldera was going to erupt before it did, but how was that even possible? Mason would stick with the plan to travel a few more hours before seeking another shelter. He would then somehow radio Tank or Mav, giving them a heads up that they might not be as alone up at the fishing lodge as they thought they were. He wouldn’t be letting his guard down any time soon.

“You’ll take Major here,” Mason offered up in a clipped tone, refusing to have things go any other way than his. “He’s a good paint. He won’t steer you wrong and you’ll be riding ahead of us, where I can keep a close eye on you. You’ll take some of the supply load so Sergeant can bear both our weight.”

“And what about Sam here?” Fairfax asked, a knowing look in his eye that told Mason he was aware they didn’t have a third person with them. “That ash can—”

“I know exactly what that ash would do to him,” Mason countered, not willing to take advice from a man who was most likely setting them up for his own gain. “Brenna will be fine holding him in front of her. It won’t be the most comfortable position, but we’ll make do. I guess I should have asked…do you even know what you’re doing in the saddle?”

*

Brenna held Sam
close to her while resting back against Mason’s hard chest. Granted, the brown leather jacket he was wearing cushioned her, but the differences between the two were significant. She’d been watching the shadows of the ash very carefully. Nothing and no one had appeared, although the vast amount of abandoned vehicles was unnerving. Where had all these people gone to?

Mason’s arms were currently on either side of Brenna so he could hold on to the reins, giving her a sense of security. It was a false sense, but she didn’t care. Ace was riding in front of them and he wasn’t feeling too well if the hunch of his back was any indication. His Gore-Tex jacket was an odd pattern Mason had said he didn’t recognize, but it appeared sufficient enough to keep the cold at bay. It was doubtful the temperature was what was making his situation worse.

“What changed your mind?”

Brenna didn’t have to keep her voice low, since the gasmask she was wearing muffled her words. She didn’t doubt only Mason had heard her. Sam adjusted his two front paws over her thigh and stuck his nose low and underneath the bottom of her coat. It was easier to hold him against her this way.

“You and I both know he’s talking about Lost Summit.” The vibration of Mason’s voice shook against her, absorbing into her and somehow giving her comfort in spite of the danger lacing his tone. “I need to find out if Tank and the others need to take precautions at the lodge.”

“Wouldn’t they have done that already?” Brenna figured if Mason was detailed about his expectations when it came to security and defense, he’d learned it from somewhere. Most likely it was from this Tank he spoke so fondly of. “Is the team there with him?”

“No, only Mav is there at this point,” Mason replied, his worry more than evident. She startled when a herd of deer crossed in front of them and she wasn’t the only one. Major pulled back and so did Sergeant, but both calmed down relatively easily considering the circumstances. “You all right?”

Brenna was immediately taken back in time by Mason’s question, as well as from the stroke of his gloved hand against her arm. He would always ask her the same way—with tenderness in his voice unlike any other—if he thought something was bothering her. She missed it…this closeness. She nodded her answer, knowing he could see and feel her movement, and then inquired about what had been weighing heavily on her mind.