Chapter 3 #2
“And we can’t help her if we get ourselves killed.
” Coulter looked Quinn in the eyes. “We aren’t going to abandon her.
But charging in blind won’t save anyone.
Especially when we’re up against a force that doesn’t drop unless you land a kill shot, which isn’t easy with all the body armor and faster-than-normal reflexes.
” He smoothed his hand down his shirt, looking as if he wanted to tug on it.
“We’ll head for the coordinates. Hopefully have three more teammates backing us up by the time we get there. ”
Scout stared at Quinn, noting his tight lips and furrowed brow. He wasn’t challenging Coulter, but she knew that if at any point, they opted not to go in full throttle, Quinn would.
The thought played in the back of her mind as she drove along the desolate gravel road, following a series of questionable two tracks that wove around one side of the mountain then up and over a saddle, finally dropping them into a canyon between twin peaks.
Scout slowed, two massive spruce blocking the last section of the fire road. Mud and gravel sloughed over the track, more debris lining the edges.
She shoved it into first, yanked on the parking brake, then shut off the engine, pointing to the map where Coulter had inputted the latest coordinates from his text to Gideon. “We’re only a couple klicks from the source of one of the signals. I can get us there on foot.”
Quinn handed the watch to Coulter. “It’s not pulsing anymore, but it’s probably safer to leave it here with the jammer still activated. Unless you just want to smash it.”
Coulter accepted it. “Gideon’s going to want to give it a once over. Hard to do that if it’s in a thousand pieces.”
Quinn didn’t argue, just opened the door and stepped out. He had his pack seated over his shoulders, his rifle in his left hand by the time she jumped out and met him at the rear of the flatbed. Lowering the gate, she dragged a crate of extra gear to the edge.
Quinn whistled when she opened it, Coulter already digging through stuff, strapping frags and extra mags to his vest. “Jesus.”
Scout sighed. “I know. Illegal, but…” She handed him a vest. “It’s a spare for Coulter. He tends to draw a lot of bullets. It should fit.”
Quinn placed the carbine and his rifle on the bed, slipped on the vest. “No night vision?”
“It’s only an emergency stash. The bulk of our equipment’s at the bunker.”
“You have a bunker?”
“We have to live somewhere.”
“This just keeps getting better.” He waved his fingers. “Mags. Lots of them. And Coulter doesn’t get to be the only one with frags.”
Scout scoffed. “Easy there, Mad Max . Our greatest weapon is stealth.”
“Right up until it isn’t. Then, it comes down to what’s strapped on these vests.” He looked at the second frag in his hand then pressed it into hers. “Which is why you’re carrying some, too.”
“And here I thought you’d be upset by all the firepower.”
“After what I just experienced…” He glanced at Coulter over his shoulder as the man scanned the area, scoping out the tree line, before stepping in close — tentatively running one hand down her arm.
She stopped, placed her hand over his. “Not a hallucination.”
“Just checking.” He pulled his hand away, taking any hint of warmth with it. “Still trying to convince myself I’m not at the bottom of that ravine, slowly bleeding out.”
“Quinn…” She grabbed his hand, prayed he wouldn’t simply pull away. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Right.” He eased free, took two steps then turned. “So, Coulter’s part of this. Is he just more worthy or something? Because he obviously didn’t know shit at the funeral.”
Scout cringed slightly, the biting tone impossible to miss. Not that she blamed him. “Of course, not. He kinda fell into this, too. Went looking for answers. Got into a tight spot. And you know, firsthand, the price he had to pay. His career. His life.”
Quinn looked at Coulter, then back at her.
“Call me crazy, Scout, but he doesn’t look all that torn up about it.
And for the record, at least he got a choice.
I’ve spent the past three months staring at a photograph.
” He clipped a mag into the carbine then held it out to her.
“I’ll stick with my rifle and the spare Sig you had in your office supplies.
” He took a few steps. “We should head out. Rain’s coming. ”
Quinn took off in the direction of the signal as if he saw the route the way she did. Which, of course he did. He’d spent over a decade hauling people out of the wilderness, surviving what would kill a lesser man.
Coulter sidled up beside her. “I wouldn’t normally say anything, but you might want to cut Quinn some slack. I’ve been where he is, and under all that anger, he’s just overwhelmed that you’re still alive.”
Scout snorted. “Right. That scathing side-eye is because he’s super happy to see me.”
“He’s more than happy. But what’s really on his mind is whether you’re happy to see him? If he’s even crossed your mind these past few months. I know that’s what was on mine with Neve.”
“If he can’t see how much it hurt, how much it still hurts, then that’s a bigger problem.”
“It took me a week to get my head out of my ass. He’s only had an hour, so…”
She looked over her shoulder when Quinn whistled. “Why don’t you stay here? Wait for the rest of the team while we go recon the coordinates. See if it’s anything more than just another watch in the mud.”
Coulter snagged her wrist. “Not a chance, Scout. We stay together. Neve’s got Wynn and Zadie with her. She can catch up.”
Scout smiled her thanks, jogging over to Quinn as he stopped at the edge of a narrow trail, Coulter covering their six.
Quinn swept his gaze the length of her before motioning toward the trail. “You wanna take point?”
Scout stepped closer. “You okay with that?”
His jaw tensed, his gaze drifting to Coulter for a few moments. “I’m a damn good tracker, but you were always better. I assume that hasn’t changed.”
“It hasn’t. Just remember what I said. Stealth is our best weapon. We only engage if it’s life or death.”
“Then, you’d better hope they don’t threaten Brea.” He held her gaze, leaned in lover close. “Or you, because if they do…”
Scout’s breath caught, her chest constricting to the point she had to force in her next breath. She glanced at Coulter, then struck off, following the hint of a trail along the hillside.
Darkness engulfed the forest, the temperature dropping several degrees, condensing each breath into a puff of white mist around her face. Fog threaded through the understory, the tendrils curling around the low hanging branches as the first drops of rain splattered off the large maple leaves.
Scout kept them on track, pausing every few minutes to judge her line — follow the map she’d memorized in the Jeep.
Quinn stayed close, his meager light brightening the trail enough she didn’t trip, looking as if he planned on tackling her at the first sign of trouble.
He didn’t make a sound, weaving through the deadfall and ferns like a ghost.
Pride warmed her chest, his sheer presence calming the part of her that never quieted. That had been in a constant state of flux since they’d burst into Gus’ cabin carrying Kane that first night.
The part that belonged to Quinn.
Crickets kicked up a chorus around them, a few bats darting through the branches as they climbed over a short rise, closed in on a small clearing in a thicket of old-growth Sitka spruce.
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, the previous din cutting off, plunging the area into an unnatural quiet.
Quinn moved in behind her, joining her when she crouched at the edge of the glade.
He flicked off his light, staring into the surrounding ferns and trees as if he saw something she didn’t.
She waited, that uneasy feeling pressing on her shoulders, before scanning the area with her scope.
Nothing moved, just the fog slowly curling through the underbrush, the rain falling between the branches, each drop silenced by the carpet of spongy moss and needles covering the ground.