Chapter 60
Kori sat in the truck, both hands gripping the wheel as she watched everything play out.
The task force had arrived.
Everyone in the truck seemed okay. They were safe now.
But what about Wyatt? Had he gotten away? Or had those men caught him in the woods?
Emotion lodged in her throat at the thought.
She threw the truck into Park, pulled in a breath, and turned around. “Is everyone okay?”
Four nods.
She looked up again and saw that all the people left on the road had been apprehended. Another deputy pulled Flint from the back.
As he walked past her, he practically snarled. “You ruined everything! You always ruin everything. We were going to change the shape of this country!”
Kori only shook her head. He really believed in the mission of The Remnant, hadn’t he?
Graham motioned to her with a nod as if to indicate the danger was behind them.
She looked back at everyone in the truck. “We should be safe now.”
“Good.” Billie’s voice was rough but warm. She leaned forward from the back seat and fixed Kori with a look that left no room for argument. “Now go check on that man. We all know you need to.”
Kori glanced around the cab.
Everyone nodded in agreement. Even Thunder panted as if he understood.
Pete shifted forward. “Wyatt’s one of the best men I know. He was willing to take a bullet for every one of us.”
She glanced at her sister, and something passed between them.
Then Mackenzie nodded and opened the door.
She flagged down the nearest paramedic. “The people in the truck need to be checked.” She pointed. “Please.”
“We’ve got it,” he told her.
“Ranger King . . . he’s in the woods. Some men were chasing him. Can you let someone know?”
“I will,” the man said.
As soon as she knew that, she began to run.
Past the first cluster of officers. Past two men being placed in handcuffs. Past a radio crackling with voices she didn’t stop to listen to.
She scanned everything around her—the road, the trees, the spaces between vehicles—and she didn’t find what she was looking for.
Who she was looking for.
Her pace slowed.
Wyatt, please be okay. Please!
She turned in a slow circle.
She didn’t see him. Where had he gone? Was he hurt?
Her stomach dropped. She couldn’t stand the thought of it.
Then movement at the edge of the woods caught her eye.
Her breath caught.
Was that . . . Wyatt?
She stepped closer, and his features came into view.
It was! It was Wyatt!
He held his shoulder with his opposite hand, and his jeans were torn at the knee. But he was upright and his eyes clear.
When his gaze found hers across the distance between them, he stopped walking.
Kori didn’t.
She covered the ground between them and threw her arms around him. He pulled her in with his good arm and held on.
She let herself stay tucked into his embrace.
When she finally pulled back she looked at his face, everything she’d been holding together for the last several hours loosened all at once.
“You could have been killed.” Her voice shook. “You just . . . you ran out there with your hands up, and I had to sit in that truck and watch, and I couldn’t—” She stopped before starting again. “What you did back there. For all of us. For people you barely know—”
She didn’t finish the sentence.
Instead, she stepped closer and put her hand against his jaw. When he didn’t move away, she leaned toward him and pressed her lips into his. It was gentle at first and tentative.
Then he kissed her back, and it felt like something that had been working its way toward this moment since the first time they’d seen each other at the ranger station.
They separated, and Kori laughed softly, a little breathless. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I—”
She stopped. Yes you do, the honest part of her brain reminded her. She’d known since she’d watched Wyatt walk toward that line of people with his hands raised, and she’d felt something in her chest crack open.
“Actually,” she murmured, “I think I do know why.”
“Good.” His hand brushed her cheek. “Please, never apologize for kissing me.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard.”
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” He stared at her, his eyes pools of emotion.
“You had me worried.”
He pulled her into another hug, and Kori let herself feel safe there for a moment as she listened to his steady heartbeat against her ear.
Wyatt let himself have about three seconds to relish what had just happened. The fact that everyone was safe. Kori’s kiss. The feeling he’d been denying suddenly seeming so clear.
He couldn’t dwell on that too long right now.
But he’d definitely explore these feelings a little later.
He straightened, rolled his shoulders, and turned toward the road.
He spotted Graham moving in his direction, Micah behind him.
Graham paused in front of him. “Wyatt . . . you look terrible.”
“I’ve been told.” Wyatt glanced at Kori beside him, and a smile tugged at his lips.
She touched his arm. “The paramedics are with Pete and the others. I should get back.”
“Go.” He nodded. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
She held his gaze before turning and heading back toward the road.
He watched her go, his heart racing for a moment.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Graham said. “That could have turned out differently.”
“It’s a good thing you got here when you did.”
“Or a God thing.”
Wyatt nodded. “Exactly.”
“I actually caught wind of this before I got your message. We got an ID back on that dead body.”
Wyatt straightened. “And?”
“His name was Bill Hudson. He had known ties with an anti-government militia group and had been arrested for a small domestic terrorist attack in North Carolina.”
“He must have joined up with this group, hoping to carry on their ideology.”
“That’s what it looks like,” Graham said. “Something must have gone wrong between Bill and someone else in the group that led to his death.”
While standing there in the woods, Wyatt gave him a quick rundown—the hospital, Wren, the map being a decoy, Herb and Billie’s property.
Then he got to Flint.
Graham went still. “We saw him tied up in the back of the truck, and we have him in custody.”
“He was waiting at my truck when we came out of the woods,” Wyatt said. “He had a gun. He’s one of them.”
“Flint Gentry.” Micah shook his head slowly, like he was turning the name over and not finding a way to make it fit. “I’ve known that man for three years.”
“So have I.” Wyatt kept his voice even.
“We’ll take him from here,” Graham finally said.
Wyatt gave him the rest—Mackenzie’s confirmation of what was going on, Flint’s role as an inside source for The Remnant, the Forest Service access he’d exploited.
When Wyatt finished, Graham nodded. “We’ve got units on the property now, and teams intercepting anyone who ran.”
“I’m sure they’ll put up a fight.”
“They will. But the FBI is coming. Apparently, this group has been on the fed’s radar for a while.”
Wyatt looked at him. “Really? How long?”
“Their leadership tried to establish something similar in Pennsylvania two, three years back. It didn’t take hold the way they wanted, so they relocated.” Graham glanced toward the woods. “They were looking for more remote terrain. Less visibility. Blue Ridge Hollow fit the profile.”
“There’s more,” Wyatt said. “The leader is a man named Bartholomew Beekman. Kori put him behind bars four years ago after the government took away his land through eminent domain. It effectively shut down his livelihood, and he went as far as assaulting one of the project managers charged with building the road.”
“He didn’t try to lure Kori out here, though, did he?” Graham asked.
“I don’t think that was his original thought,” Wyatt said. “But when Mackenzie discovered he was out here, we think she recognized him. He probably feared she’d go back to Kori and tell her what was going on. That’s when he decided to send a message.”
Micah blew out a breath and glanced around. “The good news is that it looks like this is over.”
Wyatt looked through the woods toward the cluster of paramedics and the people he’d pulled out of that barn.
It was over, and everyone with him today was okay—including Thunder.
That was something he’d always be thankful for.