Gone Away (11 page)

Riece nodded and took a few long drinks. Mason made his way back along the path they’d just taken for a while before he veered to the side. When he stopped he was almost far enough away to be out of Riece’s sight. Riece held the canteen against his knee, gripping so hard his fingers cramped, and rubbed the palm of his other hand over his jeans a few times.

Mason moved in a wide circle, bending branches in different directions and tamping down grass in what looked to Riece to be a mishmash pattern. Riece held his breath when Mason disappeared for a few minutes.

When Mason finally returned, he gestured at Riece with a
get up
motion. As before Riece stayed right behind Mason and tried to step in the exact place Mason did. “Why are we going back?” Riece whispered.

“We’re going to presume at least one of those people is a top-notch tracker,
and
they’ve spent time trailing humans,” Mason said over his shoulder. “What I did will confuse, but not totally fool, someone with that level of skill. The thing is, we all know the same tricks. Hopefully, by the time they work out where we went, we will have enough of a head start.”

“Where
are
we going?”

Mason stopped and pointed. “Into the stream. Can’t leave tracks in water.”

“It’s a river, and we’ll be out in the open,” Riece said.

“No plan is perfect, and we won’t be in it that long. The idea is if they follow us this far, they’ll lose us in the water. They’ll have to guess which way we went. It’s a crap shoot for us too, but we’ve got no other choice.” Mason stopped, pressed his lips together for a few seconds, and looked around them before continuing. “Riece, you do realize if they catch us again, or get close to us, it’ll be us or them.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I don’t know what will happen,” Mason said and walked toward the river.

Riece followed along silently.

MASON LED
the way. He circled around the spot where they’d camped the night before, skirting the area at a distance. The entire way Mason argued with himself over what they would do if they were able to get the drop on any or all of the hunters.

The closer they came to the gentle embankment above the river, the more leaves, twigs, and general debris littered the ground. He glanced back at Riece and pointed to the moist, softer leaves. Riece nodded and followed when Mason made his way across. When the ground began to squish and sink underfoot, he ducked down as he walked. He felt Riece behind him but was relieved when he had to strain to catch any noise from his direction. That meant anyone less than ten feet or so from them wouldn’t hear them.

Mason picked a spot near a slight bend in the river. “Wait here a second,” he said quietly before he slid down to the river’s edge. The location he’d chosen curved inward from the incline, forming a spot that couldn’t be seen from the bank in either direction. Roots from nearby trees wound out of the soil and back in at a lower point. A few plants had taken root and were sprouting out sideways. Creeping to the edge of the recess, Mason peered upriver and then down.

Satisfied the coast was clear for now, he turned and motioned for Riece to come down. The embankment was six or seven feet high, and as soon as Riece had slid a few feet, Mason was able to grab his arm and keep him from planting face-first into the mud.

“We’ll follow the river that way,” Mason said and pointed out the direction as he spoke. “It jogs around a bit, so we can cross and get back to our base camp.”

“Okay.” Riece nodded.

“It’s really important we get to our dry clothes and bedrolls.” Mason twisted around and pointed west. “The sun is getting low. It’ll be dark soon.”

“And the temperature drops fast,” Riece finished.

Mason nodded. “Our first priority after evading these nuts is to get to our supplies. If we can’t, we’ll have to find somewhere to dry off and keep warm. We won’t be able to make a fire unless we can get somewhere it won’t be seen.”

“A cave?” Riece asked.

“Maybe, if it’s got enough headroom and air circulation. We’ll make noise in the water, and we won’t cross until we have to. Move slow; it’ll cut down on splashing.” Mason waved at the water. “Shuffle your feet. That will dredge up some sludge, and if someone is right behind us, they’ll see, but it’s a necessary evil.”

“It will cut down on noise that can be heard farther away,” Riece said.

“Now you’re catching on,” Mason said and smiled. Riece’s simple statement eased some of Mason’s fears. He took a couple of deep breaths and pointed with two fingers. “Let’s do this thing.”

They crept through the water until they came to a section where the riverbed was rockier. This would be a good place to cross since there was less dirt and debris to be disturbed by them wading through. Mason was beginning to think they were going to make it safely to the other side when a group of birds erupted out of the treetops with such force the branches waved back and forth. Riece grabbed Mason’s arm.

With one arm over Riece’s chest, Mason forced him back against the embankment. Mason stretched as far as he could, trying to see what or who was above them. Riece leaned to the side, looking downriver.

In the next instant he was shaking Mason’s arm. “Mason, over—”

Mason spun around and clamped one hand over Riece’s mouth. In unison they stared in the direction Riece had pointed out. Three people moved through the woods on the same side of the river. It was the kid, the woman, and the third, unnamed, man.

Riece pulled his camera around and inched away from Mason.

“What are you doing?” Mason hissed and grabbed Riece’s shirt, halting him.

“We’ll have to give descriptions of these morons, right?” He was focused down at the camera, pressing the screen.

“Yeah.”

Riece grinned. “Won’t pictures be a whole lot better?”

“They’ll hear it when you take the picture.”

“No.” Riece shook his head and turned the camera so Mason could see it. “They won’t. When you photograph wildlife, you need a camera that doesn’t make clicking noises.”

Mason raised his eyebrows. “I’ll go first.” He inched toward the water, keeping as low to the ground as possible. Crouching in the mud at river’s edge, he waved Riece to him.

Riece took a step forward, but stopped when Mason reached up and took his arm. “I can’t take a picture of them from down low,” he said.

“Okay. Move slow, get into place, and freeze.” Mason slowly stood up. From this angle, if the three people saw them, it was likely Mason would get shot first.

Riece focused his camera on the three people. Mason could tell each time Riece took a picture since he held his breath for a few beats, but as he had promised, the process was soundless. Taking another step forward, Riece mumbled, “One more.” He leaned farther over the water. His foot caught on one of the roots sticking up and he stumbled.

Mason lurched forward and made a grab at Riece’s shoulders, trying to steady him. He almost succeeded in preventing Riece from tramping down hard with his foot. Water splashed, and something scrambled out from under some nearby brush.

The man swung in their direction, and the kid lifted a spotting scope. “Shit,” Mason spat.

Riece swung toward him, which allowed Mason to get both arms around Riece’s waist and yank backward. Two bolts whizzed by their heads and pierced the embankment behind them. Mason snatched Riece’s camera and shoved it back into its bag, then ripped the bolts from the earth. Spinning Riece around, he gave him a shove back the way they’d come.

“We have to cross,” Riece said.

“Not here. We have to deal with them first.”

“How?”

“Keep moving.” Mason pushed Riece ahead of him until they were almost back where they’d come down to the river. He held Riece to the embankment and put his finger to his lips. Mason took stock of what he had. It wasn’t much. A camera flash and a coil of rope.

And two crossbow bolts.

Mason readjusted the rope across his shoulders and tucked the bolts into the back of his belt. He stood slowly and looked up.

The hunters were moving toward them. They weren’t making much noise, but the kid’s stupid black go pack stood out against his tan clothing.

“How’s your throwing arm?” Mason asked.

Riece frowned at him. “Huh?”

“Here’s the plan. I’m going up there after them. You’re going to stay down here. Collect as many of these stones as you can and start throwing them into the water and against tree trunks. Make as much noise as you can, but don’t use your voice. Slap the water if you can do that without being seen.” Mason grabbed a handful of the plants and flowers growing out of the embankment. “Start scattering these in the water if you can, but don’t let them see you.”

“I’m supposed to be quiet,” Riece said.

Mason nodded. “Now you need to make noise. Try to get them to fan out and separate from one another.” He grabbed some of the roots sticking out of the bank and started to climb.

“What are you going to do?”

Mason looked back and said, “Even the odds a bit.” He gave Riece a thumbs-up. “Remember, noise, but don’t be seen.”

As soon as water began to splash, Mason grabbed a handful of dirt and smeared it over his face and hands. Then he shoved himself back into the underbrush between some trees so he was flush with the ground.

“They’re over here,” the kid yelled.

The man was close enough to Mason that Mason saw him shake his head and heard him mutter, “Damn fool.”

Mason watched as the man motioned to the woman and they stepped farther apart. She nodded at the river. Mason looked too. Plants floated downstream, two clumps far enough apart to look as if they came from different places. Stones hit the water, some farther away and some closer.

Moving slowly, Mason reached behind him for one of the bolts. As the man came closer, Mason held his breath. Stones hit the trees behind the man, and he turned away from Mason to track the sound. With the bolt gripped in one hand, Mason shoved himself far enough off the ground so he could grab the guy’s leg.

“Goddamn!” the guy shouted and stumbled. He swung around, his crossbow dangerously close to having Mason’s head in its sights.

Mason raised the bolt as high as possible and rammed it into the man’s calf. He howled in pain and dropped to the ground. Mason rolled to his feet and swore under his breath when he saw how well these people had prepared to hunt humans.

The man’s side arm was in a holster that was snapped shut, so it wasn’t likely Mason could get his hands on it without risking a crossbow bolt in his chest. The quiver on the man’s back was out of reach, and the crossbow itself was tethered to both of the man’s wrists. Without a knife Mason wouldn’t have time to free it.

The woman burst through the trees and almost fell over the man. She started to swing her crossbow in Mason’s direction. He kicked out and hit the weapon with enough force to throw her off-balance. Mason darted forward and gut punched her so hard he heard her breath rush from her lungs. The blow wouldn’t kill her, but it would incapacitate her for a minute or two. She doubled over, clutching her middle, and dropped to the ground on top of her weapon.

Getting her crossbow would take too much time, and she didn’t have any other weapons that Mason could easily see. He was sure she had some, but they must’ve been hidden in her pack or under her clothes.

Mason heard the kid bashing through the woods. He was shouting, “I have a shot.”

Not knowing if it was Riece or him the kid was referring to and not wanting to hang around and find out, Mason mumbled, “Now who’s a squaw?”

Mason sprinted to the edge of the embankment, grabbed an overhanging tree, and swung off the edge. He half jumped and half slid to the river, whistling once to get Riece’s attention. Together they sprinted back to the recess and crossed the river.

NO MATTER
how hard Riece tried and how desperately he wanted to be quiet, he simply couldn’t move through the water without making splashing noises. He heard the shouts of the man Mason had stabbed, but surely that didn’t drown out the sound of him slogging through the river in Mason’s wake. Mason’s hand holding his was an anchor and lifeline he was very grateful for.

When they reached the opposite bank, Mason turned and kept to the water as they made their way farther along the river before trudging onto land. Once they were under the cover of trees again, Mason stopped. He took Riece by the shoulders and said, “Are you okay? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“I’m fine. What about you?”

Mason nodded. He looked around, then squinted at the sky. “We have to find cover for the night. I’m not sure we’ll get to our base camp before it gets dark. Once we’re dried off and it’s totally dark, we can make a bit of headway then.”

“The temperature is going to drop a lot, isn’t it?” Riece asked.

“Yeah, it is. If we don’t at least get dried off, we won’t have a chance.” Mason pointed out a direction. “Let’s head that way. It’ll get us close to where we want to go.”

“Do you think they’ll follow us?” Riece looked back the way they’d come. “I don’t see them. Maybe we lost them.”

“I think it’s more likely they’ll need to get that guy some medical help, or if not they’ll have to take him somewhere he can be patched up. His wound was bleeding a lot. That’s why I stabbed him, though I would have loved to have killed him.”

Riece walked beside Mason and glanced sideways at him. “You’re not just blowing off steam, are you?”

“Oh hell no.”

“You’re supposed to enforce the law,” Riece said softly.

“Yeah. Which is why I want to avoid killing anyone. I’m afraid they don’t have the same concerns. They’re going to try to kill us, Riece, and if it comes down to them or us—” Mason stopped and drew a deep breath. “—then I vote us.”

“You have a plan,” Riece said. When Mason glanced at him and arched an eyebrow, Riece continued. “I know you. That expression you’re wearing—it’s the same determined one you’d have right before an exam.”

Mason let go of Riece’s hand and put his arm around his shoulders, chuckling. “We get to safety, and then I return with backup and these assholes are caught.”