Colorado Manhunt: Wilderness Chase / Twin Pursuit

Noah said, “Okay, let’s go.”

He set off. She wanted him to take her hand again, but she couldn’t rely on him to support her. She had to stand by herself. All those things she’d believed she could do. Now she was actually having to do them. Self-defense. Weapons training.

Running.

No one out for a jog ever believed it was only training for the next time they had to run for their life.

Except her.

Noah scanned the area as he walked. “I saw two of them take off on a snowmobile. One is dead back there, and the other is unconscious.”

“He’ll probably wake up and come after us, right?” She glanced back at the hunting cabin and shuddered. Not just because of the man lying on the floor by the door. She never wanted to be anywhere near that place after everything that had happened in there.

The marshals wouldn’t ever let her come back to this area, anyway. They would relocate her. A new name. A new life.

Noah said, “All the more reason to pick up the pace.”

Amy followed him, her mind full of the knowledge that every step she took might be her last.

Her brother was coming for her.

FIVE (#u7f9c7666-b2f2-535d-984d-4c74efb2f49d)

The snowshoes were awkward, but Noah couldn’t deny they made better progress across the mountainside, through the trees and two-feet-deep snow, a whole lot faster with them than without. Both of them would have had wet pant legs, and they’d be even more cold now.

“Is that a car up ahead?”

He took a few more steps, trying to see what she’d been referring to. Despite the markings denoting it as a county sheriff’s vehicle, he said, “Wait here for a second.” Then he did a half walk, half run in snowshoes to the side of the highway, where a sheriff’s department vehicle waited.

Just the small SUV. No occupant.

“Okay.” He waved her over.

Tension sat like a knot in his stomach. Like a bad case of food poisoning.

They had to get help.

Noah’s whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat. He felt like he’d run his usual morning routine of six miles, but all of it uphill. He estimated they’d maybe walked three miles, if that. It felt so much farther with the extra exertion of wading through Colorado winter in snowshoes.

He blew out a breath. Amy came over to him. She was maybe a little winded but didn’t seem any worse for their…workout. That sounded a whole lot better than running for their lives.

“Where is the sheriff?”

Noah looked around. Then he walked across the hard-packed snow on the road to circle the SUV. The snowshoes didn’t help when the snow was matted down like ice, but if he took them off and more gunmen came, how would he get them back on? Mostly he figured he’d regret it if he took them off and he’d probably regret leaving them on.

Useful, but not exactly user-friendly.

Noah tugged on the driver’s door handle. “It’s unlocked.” He saw the state of the interior. “Not good.”

“What is it?”

He lifted a hand. “Stay over there.” He wanted her to have at least a chance of cover to hide behind, and she was closer to the trees on that side of the vehicle.

“What is it?” Her tone was different this time, heavy with a hint of what he’d seen when she’d opened her eyes. Right before she’d twisted out of the gunman’s arms. The determination inside her, not just to do the right thing but also to pull her weight. To treat this like a partnership, and not like he was the marshal and she was the witness.

Noah wouldn’t let anyone else make that shift. Amy? He trusted her. She did what he needed her to. She followed orders. She also showed him that vulnerable side he wanted to take care of.

“Noah.”

“There’s blood on the seat.”

“How much?”

She really wanted the answer to that? “Enough he’s light-headed, but hopefully still alive.”

She twisted around to look at the area. “Do you think he’s here somewhere, hurt?”

“Whoever injured him took the time to shut the door after they got him out of the SUV.”

“So they dragged him off and left him in the snow to bleed out and die? Or he was already dead?”

Was she angling for a job as a detective? “When we find him, or whoever hurt him, we can ask them.” He took a step back. If the sheriff—or whoever had shown up—left the vehicle bleeding, wouldn’t there be blood on the snow somewhere? He didn’t see any. Not losing blood meant the wound was either not bleeding now or had been staunched somehow. A stray drop would be here, surely.

The alternative was that the person had died before they were moved—no more blood flow to get on the snow.

He shook his head. Now he was doing exactly what he accused her of doing—trying to figure out what happened with no evidence.

Noah wandered to the far side of the empty highway. He looked for footprints. Probably more than one person had been out here. Where were they?

Behind him, he heard the other door to the SUV open. Heard Amy’s intake of breath. Exactly what he hadn’t wanted her to see, that visible evidence of injury. Something to trigger another panic attack.

She’d done well to keep it together so far. He didn’t want to be the cause of something she wouldn’t be able to fight off. A rush of emotion that would slow them down.

Then he spotted something.

“Over here!”

He called out before he even realized what he’d done. Noah rushed to the sheriff’s deputy’s side, landing awkwardly on his knees because of the snowshoes. “Can you hear me?”

He patted the man’s cheek, not looking at the blood on his shoulder. The law officer seemed to have passed out, his shoulder bundled up by his jacket. Why leave the vehicle, though? Walking off to pass out in the snow didn’t seem like a good idea.

He drew his gun. Then he grabbed the uniformed man’s good arm and hauled the man onto his back. Noah stood up from his crouch and faced Amy. “Get back to the SUV. Try to find some keys.”

He followed her, carrying the man over his shoulder. Teeth gritted. Each footstep a prayer that he wouldn’t trip over the edge of one of these shoe-things and fall.

She got in the front seat. “You think someone is here, like, watching?”

He hauled open the back door. “Maybe.” Then laid the uniformed man on the back seat. Noah didn’t figure his chances were good if they didn’t get him to a hospital, or whatever passed for one in this town, and quick.