“We’re heading back to Nicole’s cabin,” I announced. “You two will stay there, keep an eye on Mac. I’ll come back here to search for the man responsible for all of this.” I waved a hand at the cabin and surrounding land, which was riddled with booby traps.
Dodging a bullet—literally—took the starch outta Kyle, who usually never shied away from arguing with me. “Yeah. Okay,” he said, his face pale. I nodded, eager to get moving before he had the chance to rally his frayed nerves.
“You can see how Vince is doing before you check on Mac,” I said to Sahdev, trying to forestall any argument from the doctor by appealing to his professionalism.
“Very well.”
I led the way as we carefully retraced our steps back to our campsite to gather up our gear. Kyle untied Hector, dropping to his knees to hug my dog. Figured Country Club was still rattled, and fussing over Hector would give him time to settle down, so I didn’t rush him. Soon enough we were back on the trail, hiking toward the road.
Not a mile away from the cabin, two voices broke the silence. I signaled a halt and ordered Kyle and Sahdev to take cover on the side of the trail, before stalking toward the sound. The bald deacon I’d seen kissing up to Pastor Bill approached me on the path, a teenage boy at his side. Their heavy footsteps and loud chattering were enough to alert anybody nearby to their presence.
“Hey!” the teenage boy called, waving frantically when he spied me.
“Hello,” the deacon shouted.
I sighed. Stealth and caution were concepts that clearly eluded these guys.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded when they drew near.
“The pastor sent us. After seeing the extent of Vince’s injuries, Pastor Bill decided that you might need backup,” the deacon said.
The teenage boy nodded eagerly. “Yeah. We’re here to help.”
Swell.
“Don’t need backup,” I said. Last thing I needed was a pair of loud, inexperienced bumblers getting in the way of my search.
The teenager’s shoulders slumped, and his lower lip jutted out.
“We have our orders,” the deacon said. “We’re staying.”
I shrugged. “Have it your way. I’m taking Kyle and Sahdev back to Nicole’s cabin. I’ll be back midafternoon. The place is crawling with booby traps. Safest thing would be for you two to hunker down and wait for me.”
“I think we can manage without you for a few hours.” The deacon smiled, but his eyes looked frosty.
Did I give a rat’s ass that I’d offended the man. Nope. I looked at the teenager. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Tyler.”
“Tyler, the man who planted the booby traps is smart and dangerous. Be careful where you step and watch your back.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I won’t do anything stupid.”
Pastor Bill’s men continued toward the cabin while Kyle, Sahdev, and I headed back to the trailhead. Half an hour after we parted ways, a loud boom fractured the quiet morning. I turned toward the sound. Smoke and flames billowed into the sky.
Fuck. The fools must’ve triggered a bomb.
I turned and ran back toward the cabin, Hector at my heels. Kyle and Sahdev following behind.
“Watch for tripwires when you get close to the cabin,” I called over my shoulder before racing ahead. A week after recovering from the flu, Kyle couldn’t match my stamina, and I bet Sahdev would stick by his side to keep an eye on him.
Approaching the cabin, I navigated quickly through the tripwires, one hand on Hector’s collar to keep him close at my side. We splashed through the creek, and I caught sight of the cabin. The explosion had reduced it to a flaming heap of timber and stone. The deacon knelt a dozen yards from the structure, cradling Tyler’s body in his arms.
“He ran ahead of me and opened the door. I called to him to stop, but he didn’t listen. The door must’ve been rigged to set off the bomb.”
Shit. The kid totally blew off my warning. The post-pandemic world didn’t forgive mistakes, and one bone-headed move could snuff out a life.
I crouched beside the pair to verify that Tyler was indeed dead. One look at his charred body confirmed it. Poor dumb sap.
The man who occupied this cabin was now responsible for killing one man and hobbling another. He had to be brought to justice, not of the legal variety, but the kind I’d deliver with the business end of my Colt.
The flames and the smell of singed flesh must have agitated Hector, who whined and pressed against my side. I laid a hand on his head, then turned at the sound of approaching footsteps.
“Oh, shit.” Kyle dropped to his knees and retched at the sight of Tyler’s scorched and blackened corpse. Sahdev pulled a bottle of water from his pack and handed it to Kyle, who rinsed his mouth and splashed water on his face.
It’d take hours for the fire to burn out. Fortunately, whoever built the cabin had cleared the timber and brush from around the structure, and the creek wrapped halfway around the spot. With any luck, the flames would die down without jumping to the forest. And it had rained two days ago, thank fuck. We might’ve dodged a bullet here. Well, all of us except Tyler.
“We’ll bury Tyler here,” the deacon announced. “There’s no point in going to the trouble of hauling the body through the woods and back to the camp. We don’t have a consecrated cemetery, and Tyler doesn’t have family to visit the grave. This will do for him.”
You didn’t leave a fallen brother behind for any reason, especially lame-ass ones like the deacon just spouted. No point in hauling Tyler back through the woods? Shit, I’d hiked miles through enemy territory with a body in tow.
“The kid deserves better than to be buried alone where he was killed,” I said.
The deacon shrugged. “Perhaps that’s true, but apprehending the bomber is my top priority. Vince and now Tyler; how many others will suffer? I don’t want to spend the rest of the day attending to the dead while a criminal who threatens the living runs free. And poor Tyler’s soul will rest easier if we catch the man who did this to him.”
“He’s right, man,” Kyle spoke up. “Whoever did this has to be stopped. We can’t afford to spend our daylight hours moving a corpse. And we can’t stick the body under a bush while we go after the bomber because...well...it’s the woods and animals, you know? It sucks, but it is what it is.”
I opened my mouth to protest, then snapped it shut. New world, new rules. That’s what I always told Mac. We had to adapt to the new reality. The reality was that with no law or government, it was on us to stop the bomber. Time mattered.
“You want to stick around to hunt for the bomber?” I asked Kyle.
Hands on his hips, he surveyed the scene, his gaze passing over the flames licking at the demolished cabin and Tyler’s crispy corpse. “Yeah, I do want to stick around. We have to stop this guy.”
“All right.” I dug in my pack for the carbon-steel folding shovel—good for putting out campfires—and tossed it to the deacon. “You want to bury Tyler here, you can start digging.”
He scowled at me. The deacons might eat shit from Pastor Bill, but they sure weren’t used to being ordered about by us lesser mortals. Tough.
The deacon began to dig, his expression tight and his movements jerky. Exertion colored his face beet red, and he began to pant. Didn’t exactly feel sorry for the guy—compassion is not my middle name, especially when dealing with assholes—but I didn’t want him keeling over and leaving us with two corpses to deal with. I grabbed the shovel and finished digging the grave. Kyle found two sticks and shaped a cross, tying the pieces together with a piece of cord from his pack.