Page 69 of Harrison Hyde and the Runaway Bride

“No plates. Son of a gun. There’s a shotgun in the back,” she said. “I brought it along in case of trouble. Box of shells beside it. Get ’em. Load it. Move slow. I’ll watch.”

“If they were in that truck?—”

“If they’d been in that truck, Harry couldn’t have texted, right? Get the shotgun.”

Maria scrambled into the back of the van and found the shotgun, an old Ithaca 20-gauge pump model. Not police-issue. A family heirloom. She loaded in four shells but did not chamber one. Instead she dropped the fifth slug into her pocket. Her forefinger brushed across the safety, ensuring it was on.

She turned, but Willow was gone, and she spotted her, creeping up on the passenger side of that black truck with her gun in both hands, its barrel angled downward. Maria got out of the van, using the side door. With the shotgun ready, she crossed the road to back Willow up, and moved to the passenger side of the black truck.

Willow yanked open the driver’s door and checked inside. Maria did the same from her side. The truck was empty, so she moved to the back.

“Tailgate’s down,” Maria said.

“Ramps, too,” Willow noted. “Had a four-wheeler in the back. Maybe more than one. Listen.” In the distance there were faint motor sounds.

Maria crossed the road to Bubba’s truck. The only door open was the driver’s door, so that was where she climbed partway in. The truck had been compressed to half its width. There was broken glass everywhere, but she didn’t see anyone inside. And she didn’t see any blood. She looked over into the truncated back seat, but no one was there, either.

Her sigh was so heavy her neck went limp, and she dropped her chin to her chest. And then she saw the crimson puddle of blood on the floor.

“Maria?”

She backed out of the pickup, still carrying the shotgun. “No one inside, blood on the floor in back. Harry or Lily, they were the ones sittin’ there.”

“I spotted a little blood out here, too. They left a trail. Bad guy could’ve followed. Maybe not, though. He might not’ve seen it from his ATV. There’s only a few drops here and there.” She pulled out her phone. “No signal. You?”

Maria looked at her phone. “No. But there must be one nearby. Harry got a message out to me.”

“Might have a different carrier.”

“The family will spot that blood,” Maria said. “But we might as well make it easy.” She snapped a slender limb at eye level as she passed.

“Here, hold up here,” Ethan said. “I think we lost him.” He set Hyram on his feet in little clearing within the woods.

Harrison looked around. There was a low, stone wall forming a boundary around gravestones. “This is a cemetery.”

“Family plot,” Ethan said. “Highest point on the property. Prettiest, too.”

As he spoke, clouds moved away from the face of the moon, allowing its white light to spill down. The well-tended graveyard overlooked a small pond that reflected the moonlight. A couple of stone benches, and a birdbath had been placed near its edge. There was a small shed made of large stone blocks. Plants grew all around the pond and from every grave, old or new. Their buds nodded. Some of the headstones illuminated by the moon were centuries old. Some were much newer. And because the spot was elevated, and the moon was full, the view was stunning. Rolling meadows, woodlands, darkening layers of landscape. In the daytime, he thought, you could probably see the whole place.

“Well, I’ll be…” Hyram looked around, blinking. “I’ve seen this place before.”

“This is my mamma’s spot, right here,” Ethan said, laying his big hand on a rose granite tombstone. “Uncle Garrett had her moved here. Aunt Chelsea said it was what she’d want, to be where I was.”

A lump formed in Harrison’s throat. He started to say something, feeling a shared loss with Maria’s big cousin, but the buzz of a motor cut him off, growing louder alarmingly fast. Lily released a shriek of alarm as an ATV burst from the trees, and she took off running. Harry and his father both lunged after her, but his dad fell, and then an ATV bore down on him. In the dark woods, the driver wouldn’t see him to avoid hitting him, even if he wanted to. Harrison flung himself on top of his dad, wrapped his arms around him and rolled him out of the way, winding up in a thick patch of brush. The ATV roared past them. Ethan raced past them, too, trying to catch up with Lily as she screamed like Harrison had never heard before.

He lunged to his feet to go to her, but the ATV sped right at Lily, and the man driving it grabbed her, pulled her across the seat, and gunned it.

“No!” Harrison lurched after them as Bubba chased the machine on foot, but it was gone. And then a second ATV sped toward Harrison from behind, and he turned and ran right at it. Just before it smashed into him, he bent his knees and leapfrogged right over the hood and handlebars, smashing into the driver’s head, helmet and all. He held onto the guy, taking him off the machine and onto the ground. Straddling, the guy’s chest, he ripped off his helmet. “Where the hell is he taking my sister?”

The man didn’t answer, and Harrison punched him in the face so hard it hurt his hand. He was like a passenger watching his own body acting without his consent. He drew back to punch him again, his entire body shaking. “Tell me, dammit!”

“Harry, don’t!” That was Maria’s voice, and it worked like cool water on his anger.

He turned his head to look at her. She and Willow had arrived, somehow, on the scene. Willow said, “I’ve got this,” and pushed him off the guy then rolled the man over. Harrison looked at the guy’s bloody face. He’d done that. None of this seemed real.

Willow cuffed the guy’s hands behind his back. “Get up,” she said, yanking until he was on his feet, then she patted him down.

Maria moved closer to Harry. It had taken her a beat. Maybe she’d been shocked, too, to see him pounding on another man’s face. She hooked her arm around his waist, and he put his around her shoulders. She pressed so close to his side there was no space between them. She held a shotgun by its stock in her free hand.

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