Page 69 of Last Resort

For a few seconds, Ben felt a surge of relief before four more men opened fire from the tree line.

“Shit,” Ben muttered. Alessia closed her eyes and pushed both hands, palms out, toward the protective barrier. Ben saw the strain in her face, the tension in her jaw. She had grown pale from the exertion, and he knew she couldn’t maintain the protection forever.

Bullets sprayed the dome. Whoever had sent the goons after Carr and the treasure clearly had no intention of taking prisoners. Ben and Erik returned fire, but the new attackers used the tree line as a shield, making it difficult to aim. Alessia’s protective barrier flickered.

No treasure is worth dying for, Ben thought, fearing the worst.

“What the hell is that?” One of the hitmen stopped firing and pointed.

Ben tracked the motion and stared, wide-eyed, at a huge stag with massive, glowing antlers that sauntered out of nowhere to stand between them and the attackers.

The goons turned their guns on the stag but the bullets went right through the majestic animal without harm.

“Look.” Ben pointed as thick fog rolled out from the forest, although the day had been clear. The temperature plummeted to freezing. Faces and forms appeared in the mist and the woods were filled with otherworldly wailing and the screams of damned souls.

The attackers ran for the trail, leaving their gut-shot companion behind even as he called out to them and tried to crawl away.

The ghostly fog surged forward, skirting the luminous stag and the glowing dome. It swept over the wounded hitman, and he cried in terror as he disappeared in the depths of the fog and then went silent.

Relentless, the roiling fog pursued the men, who paused long enough to fire into it with no effect. Then the dark cloud overtook them, stifling their curses and panicked pleading.

Seconds later, the fog was gone as if it had never existed. Seven corpses lay on the ground, their faces frozen in fear, limbs twisted at unnatural angles.

The stag turned slowly and regarded them with ancient, dark eyes. Then he inclined his head in acknowledgment and walked with stately grandeur toward the trees, vanishing before he reached the darkness beneath the boughs.

“What did we just see?” Ben wasn’t sure he trusted his voice.

“I have no idea,” Erik said, looking completely stunned.

“The avatar of the forest’s genius loci.” Awe clear in Alessia’s voice. “He saved us—along with the ghosts of the Pine Barrens.”

“Did you call them?” Ben looked at their witch friend as if seeing her for the first time.

“Not exactly,” Alessia replied. “I…made a plea to the spirit of the forest for help. And it answered. I guess it didn’t like hitmen and stolen loot on its lands.”

“I’m glad someone was listening.” Erik sounded shaken. He rolled to one side, off of Carr’s bloody form.

“Is he—” Ben asked.

Erik checked for a pulse. “Gone.”

“Are you hurt? You’re covered in blood.”

Erik looked down at himself and shook his head. “None of it’s mine.”

Ben took charge. “Fuck. We’ve got to get out of here before someone reports all the noise. This doesnotlook good, and we’ve got guns and a stolen treasure.”

They took the suitcase and weapons, left the bodies where they lay, and hurried to the car, hoping not to run into any hikers. Ben drove carefully, minding the speed limit. Erik removed his bloodstained coat and did his best to wipe away the spatter on his face and hands. Alessia fell asleep in the back seat as soon as they pulled out of the lot.

“What the fuck do we do now?” Erik asked.

“Turn the money over to Hendricks, tell him that we managed to escape a fight between mobster gangs, and hope the Mob doesn’t send more hitmen after us,” Ben said. “It should be pretty clear from the crime scene that we were outnumbered.”

“They’re going to wonder how the hell we got out alive.”

“Pretty sure Alessia can help come up with a cover story,” Ben replied.

They were quiet for several miles. “You saw that stag, right? I didn’t imagine it?” Erik asked.

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