Chapter Twenty-seven

What kind of trouble?” Abbie fought through the sexual haze that had swamped her.

“Don’t talk. Get moving.” Hunter ordered so calmly she’d have thought he was discussing going down to dinner and not preparing to run for their lives, which was how this sounded.

She glanced at the window. Had to be late in the day, maybe close to sunset. She needed clothes.

“You have sixty seconds to get dressed.” Hunter was looking at a small electronic unit that looked almost like a black iPhone.

“Dressed with what?” She turned around, frantically searching for clothes.

“In the dresser. Borys’s clothes.”

She raced over and yanked open the top drawer. Pulling out a dark blue T-shirt, she whipped it over her head and shoved her arms through.

Borys’s voice came through the overhead intercom system. “East, west, and south quadrants breached.”

Hunter cursed low but continued working his electronic unit with the patience of someone tinkering with a crossword puzzle as he moved around the room.

She pulled out the first pair of pants she found, loose khakis with pockets down each side. She’d spent enough time around Hunter to know that when he said sixty seconds he meant he’d take her out of there in whatever form of dress or undress she was in when time ran out.

“Put on a sweater, too.” Hunter hadn’t even looked up to see what she had on.

She found a burgundy cable-knit sweater and wiggled it over her head. Whatever cream he’d put on her skin had dulled the pain of her scrapes.

A pair of boots bounced on the floor in front of her.

She grabbed wool socks from another drawer and sat back on the end of the bed, fumbling to pull the tubes over her feet.

Hunter dropped down on one knee in front of her, putting her boots on and tying them while she buttoned her pants. She rushed into the bathroom.

“Let’s go!”

She made two turns with a rubber band to pull her hair back into a ponytail so she could see when she ran. He grabbed her hand and hauled her out of the room.

She didn’t say a word, not when he was in warrior mode.

“North quadrant breached,” Borys’s voice announced. “All systems set to blow in two minutes. Go bags in position.”

Hunter ate up the distance to the stairs with long strides. She ran to keep up with him. He lifted his phone device to his mouth, still talking in an even tone. “Go. We’re right behind you.” He shoved the device into his front jeans pocket.

At the bottom of the stairs, a huge beige-and-green camo-colored backpack sat next to the open front door.

Borys was gone.

Hunter reached inside the hall closet and slapped something. When he stepped out he was wearing dark shades and stuffing a mega automatic pistol into the front waistband of his jeans. He stuck his arm back into the closet and pulled out a down jacket he handed her.

“Sunglasses in the front left pocket. Do exactly as I say. Don’t speak for any reason unless I tell you to.”

She nodded, zipping up the front of the jacket and digging out the shades while he hooked the backpack on his shoulders. Her terror or hesitation must have peeked through the strong front she was trying hard to put up.

He grabbed the front of her jacket and pulled her to him, crushing his mouth to hers. It seemed like he kissed her forever when she knew it could only have been seconds then released her. “Just listen to me and trust me. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

She changed her mind about Hunter.

He wasn’t James Bond.

He was Superman. A badass Superman.

She nodded and squared her shoulders, ready for whatever they had to do. “I’m good.”

He took her hand, squeezed it once, and towed her down the steps across what might be the front yard if anything had been shaped and groomed. He angled toward the back of the house, heading in the area of the path she’d taken earlier but more westerly, toward the setting sun.

But he knew where the booby traps were.

A hundred feet in every direction around the cabin had been cleared, probably for the explicit purpose of seeing someone approach. She kept her head down, paying attention in the fading light, careful of where she put her feet.

Using logic, if all four quadrants had been breached, weren’t they heading toward at least one of the enemy?

He’d said to stay quiet and to trust him.

She intended to do both.

The temperature was dropping with the sun. Darkness would take over the land in another twenty minutes.

When they reached the tree line, Hunter led her down a gentle descent for about fifty feet, then he cut left, weaving through low-drooping branches with stiff pine needles.

Pain shot through her knee. She slipped once and tensed against reinjuring it.

Hunter caught her upper arm so quickly she never felt his hand move. He slowed his pace, tediously working their path one way, then back the other way.

They were heading down with every step, but in a wide zigzag.

Where were these people who were coming up the mountain? How far away were they? It was a big honkin’ mountain. Hunter must have an idea of how to get past them.

He paused, then cupped her mouth with his hand and grabbed her around the waist. Lifting her off the ground, he backed into a dark cut between two boulders taller than Hunter. The space was four feet wide and at least ten feet deep.

Not a hint of light in here. All she could see from inside this dark pit was whatever crossed the opening to the space.

Her chest constricted with the effort of breathing.

Now that he had her tucked deep in this hole, she could hear rocks moving outside.

And footsteps.

Whoever approached must not have realized they’d tripped a silent alarm system.

She hung perfectly still in his arms, frozen with fear, while he angled around, moving silently as a ghost. He deposited her and his backpack softly on the ground.

When he turned back around she was behind him and in total darkness with his wide body blocking the opening.

She would not panic. He was right here with her.

His hand came back and touched her arm. Just enough to comfort her in the middle of racing from danger.

She fell a little in love with him right then.

Footsteps crunched on ice-crusted snow.

Her heart stampeded in her chest. But she had faith in Hunter, knew he would do whatever it took to keep them safe.

The sound of someone walking faded slowly until it disappeared. Hunter didn’t move for another five minutes.

Then he hoisted the backpack on his shoulders and pulled her forward. When she stepped out of the opening she could barely see. She patted his hand to let him know she was okay.

He’d produced a monocle type of eyepiece she assumed was for night vision, which he’d need very soon. He nodded at her, his eyes taking in everything around them constantly. Hooking her hand, he took off again.

She worked up a sweat trying to make sure she followed exactly in his footsteps, more by feel than sight.

Ten minutes later the most god-awful racket came from high above them. Where the cabin was. She jerked around. That was gunfire. Automatic weapons ripping something to pieces.

Hunter’s house.

He tugged on her arm, not slowing. In fact, his pace picked up again. Did he think now that the intruders had reached an empty house they were going to head back down the mountain after her and Hunter?

She kept up with him, staying right behind, stumbling on occasion and wheezing air. He was always able to grab her before she fell. The men at his cabin were moving solo, not burdened with a woman.

One who was not in shape to do this much hiking at this pace. If it hadn’t been a downhill run, she’d have keeled over by now.