Chapter 17
Zayne
A car driving by just as we were about to head toward the cabin made us rethink our approach.
Instead of making an entry into the cabin with that junker of a cop car parked right in front, we got back in and drove a little way down the road, parking behind a copse of trees where the vehicle was a little more hidden.
Cop cars, especially around these parts, draw a lot of attention.
You're just as likely to run up on a meth house out here as you are one of these small hunters' cabins, and people cooking dope pay a lot of attention to who's coming and going.
Bobby looked at me like I was a genius when I suggested the move, and it told me that he hadn't been putting much thought into the crimes he's been committing.
It makes me wonder how many times he's been behind bars for shit like this.
With the cache of weapons he had in the trunk of the damn car, I could tell this isn't going to be his first armed robbery.
At first, I thought that was a good thing.
People breaking the law for the first time are reckless.
They're more likely to act on impulse or out of fear, not knowing what's coming next.
But a guy with experience could potentially be a little more levelheaded, which would be good for both the hunter and us in the cabin.
It's clear the guy is tweaking, which means there's no fucking telling how tonight is going to go.
"Can someone please explain what the fuck we're doing?" Zeus asks.
I know damn well he's smart enough to figure out what the goal of the night is going to be, so that means he's asking so we can decipher where Bobby's head is at.
I keep the tip of my rifle lifted, my heart racing as we make our way through the woods, inching closer to the tiny cabin.
"Hunting season,” Bobby answers, his voice less of a whisper than it should be if he's expecting to sneak up on the people in the cabin.
Some might think that people being prepared, hearing us, and having time to respond would be better, but the guy in this damn cabin is armed.
Walking into a situation where someone is locked and loaded, ready to defend what's theirs, is all around bad news for everyone.
A surprise approach, a situation where Bobby wouldn't feel the need to defend himself, is best.
"Easy pickings," Bobby continues.
I pause, glancing back at Zeus. I've done this more times than I can count, but that never stops the adrenaline from pulsing in my ears.
I know shit like this is necessary. Breaking the law has to seem like an easy feat for the man I'm supposed to be.
I know that, to save one group of victims, I have to create others, and I don't take it lightly.
I also know Cerberus. I’ve had more than one conversation with Kincaid while in New Mexico to know that, although there will be nothing that can really be done about their mental health and the fear that will no doubt plague this man later, Cerberus will make this situation right with them.
Whatever we take tonight will be replaced at the club's expense in some form of anonymous restitution, but knowing that only eases a little of the guilt I feel for what is about to happen.
Zeus has been a hero his whole life. He might've had jobs where he had to pretend to be someone else, but I highly doubt he's ever been put in a situation like this one.
Just like I was the very first time, I know the man is struggling mentally, fighting the urge to knock Bobby out, and say just to hell with the entire mission.
I pause at the edge of the woods, the back door of the cabin in my line of sight. I turn back to look at the other two men behind me. Zeus's jaw is clenched, his eyes drilling a hole into me as if he expects me to speak up and try to talk some sense into Bobby.
Our newest friend is all but twitching, his eyes darting around as if he's afraid he's going to miss some spectacular event. It's akin to someone watching a large fireworks display for the first time. The man is ecstatic with anticipation of what we're about to do.
"Wasting fucking time," Bobby says, his trigger finger tapping the side of his weapon.
I mean, I guess I should be grateful for small favors that the man is aware enough not to have the damn thing on the trigger, considering he's been at my back for the last ten minutes.
"Ready?" I ask, the question directed more at Zeus than at Bobby.
He dips his head, a look of acceptance on his face.
I move slowly, taking everything in as we break from the trees and head toward the back door. The scent of smoke fills the air, a blend of something that was cooked on the small grill off to the side of the tiny back porch and a wood-burning stove.
"Let me," Bobby says as he steps around me. Before he can lift his leg to kick in the door, I turn the doorknob, hoping on the off chance that the hunter forgot to lock it before going to bed.
When the knob turns, the door opens silently. I glance at Bobby, giving him a look that I hope he reads as meaning that he needs to use his fucking head more. The guy shrugs, a wide smile spreading on his face.
"Kicking it in is more dramatic," he mutters.
I feel ready for battle as we enter the cabin, more so ready to fight Bobby than whoever might be inside. I damn near have tunnel vision as I sweep my attention across the room.
There's nothing cozy about the cabin. It's functional at best—a set of bunk beds on the far wall, a small kitchenette to the left.
There are a couple of packed overnight bags on the small dining table, telling me they either got in late last night or are at the end of their trip and planning to head back home soon.
"Rise and shine motherfuckers!" Bobby yells as he makes his way across the room, his rifle moving between the two occupied bunk beds.
"Lights," Zeus says, a warning to everyone in the room before flipping the switch on the wall.
The room is cast in an amber glow, the bulb not putting off much light at all, a blessing to not be suddenly blinded.
"What the hell?" one of the guys mutters as he sits up in the top bunk bed, his hands going up by his ears when he sees the gun aimed at his face.
He can't be more than fifteen or sixteen, and the look of pure terror on his face makes me feel like the biggest piece of shit that has ever walked the earth.
"Be cool," the man in the lower bunk says to the younger one. "They're not going to hurt us, right, boys?"
The older man, more than likely the dad of the kid above him, glances at each of us as if demanding that we assure the kid that he's safe.
"Stay cool, and you'll be fine," I assure both of them. "We want your money, guns, phones, anything of value."
The older guy points toward the far wall near the front door. "All packed up and ready to go."
Bobby shifts on his feet as if he's not very impressed with their cooperation. It's clear the man had high hopes of hurting someone tonight.
Zeus moves toward the bags after a quick glance in my direction to make sure that I'm keeping an eye on our new friend.
He shoulders the straps of the two rifle bags, wincing slightly when the kid in the top bunk starts crying. I can only guess that he worked really hard to earn the money to buy his own hunting rifle.
"What a pussy," Bobby growls, smiling again when the kid cries harder when the rifle is pointed in his direction. "Want me to give you something to cry about?"
"Easy," the dad says. "We're no threat to you."
"Damn right, you're not," Bobby growls, turning his attention and the barrel of his gun in the dad's direction.
The man in the lower bunk looks relieved to have the threat aimed in his direction rather than at his son, but that doesn't stop him from trembling at the possibility of harm or even death.
"We're good," I say once Zeus opens the front door and steps outside. "Let's bounce."
I keep my feet locked on the floor, my breath growing more erratic as I watch Bobby struggle with just leaving and not hurting anyone. I don't feel any sense of relief until the man turns around and walks past me.
He grabs one of the straps on the overnight bags before walking out the open door.
"Grab that other one," he calls out over his shoulder, a giddy hitch in his step just before he disappears into the darkness.
Noticing the cell phone in the outer pocket of the bag left behind, I pull it out and place it on the table along with a set of keys in the same pocket. It's the only thing I can offer them right now that might help ease the pain of the situation.
I don't glance back at them as I walk out, closing the door behind me.
We make our way to the car much faster than we did to the cabin. Zeus already has his weapon and the two newly procured rifles in the car's trunk.
Bobby gladly hands over the strap of the overnight bag to him when Zeus holds out his hand. I do the same, grabbing the car keys from Bobby when he holds out both hands, one with the keys in it and one with a small bag of what I have to presume is meth.
The man seems to be struggling to decide what he wants to do first. Although Bobby thinks he may have a lot of time, I know the police will be heading this way soon.
"I'll drive," I say, making my way around the back of the car, heading for the driver's seat. Zeus climbs in the back, and thankfully, Bobby doesn't argue before climbing into the passenger seat.
The man doesn't hesitate to reward himself, loading his drugs into a glass pipe before lighting it.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Zeus snaps as he rolls down his window.
I do the same, wanting as little fucking exposure to that shit as possible.
"I have to pass a fucking drug test next week," Zeus continues.
"Jealous?" Bobby asks, blowing smoke in Zeus's direction.
I watch in the rearview mirror, knowing it's likely my old friend will climb over the seat and put his fist through the man's face. Instead of beating the shit out of him, Zeus turns his attention out the window.