Page 40 of Silverstorm

“Go and check it out,” Parker instructed.

What? Aria sat up a little straighter. There was nothing out there. Was there? Her heart rate picked up slightly. Had someone come to rescue her? No, it was impossible. No one could’ve figured out where these two had taken her. She didn’t even know where she was.

“Yes, Father.” Rocky donned his balaclava and gloves and threw his blanket aside, seemingly not too bothered by the freezing conditions outside.

“Take the gun.”

“Yes, Father.”

They had a gun? Rocky reached beneath the front seat and came up with a weapon in his hand. Aria gasped. But why was she so shocked? Half of America owned a weapon, and these crazies probably weren’t afraid to use it. He opened the door quietly, sending a searching gaze into the surrounding forest before quietly slipping out the door and closing it behind him softly. A blast of freezing air came in through the door; and then he was gone.

What should she do? She reached for the door handle.

“Don’t even think about it.” Parker’s voice was low but menacing.

She turned to see him staring at her. He stretched over the front seat and tried to grab her by the wrist, but the blankets got in the way and she twisted easily out of his grip.

There was a sharp retort; the sound of a gunshot, and they both froze.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

JUDE CROUCHED IN the snow, gun at the ready, waiting, watching. Two seconds. Three seconds. Four. Five. Waiting for the roll of the dice to go again. Jude wished he’d been able to get closer to the four-by-four twenty feet farther up the trail. He wasn’t sure what’d gone wrong. They couldn’t possibly have heard him, he was practically silent walking on the ice and snow. And even though the wind had died, it was still blowing hard enough to be covering any small sound he might’ve made. What had tipped them off to his presence?

Ladley’s truck was parked a few hundred feet down the trail, as he’d decided to proceed on foot, not wanting to tip-off the abductors by driving blindly up behind them. Not knowing for sure if there was anyone up ahead, he’d left it parked in a flat spot where he knew he could turn around. He decided if he walked a mile and didn’t find anyone, then he’d go back and retrieve the car, and drive up farther. But after walking for ten minutes, he’d got lucky and spotted the truck around a hundred feet up the fire trail, near to the first concealed campsite Levi had found all those days ago. It was well camouflaged, tucked in behind the trunks of two large pine trees. But Jude knew what he was looking for. It was the same four-by-four that’d been parked at the rest stop. He’d studied the car for many minutes until his feet had started to ache with the cold.

The man-shaped lump lying on the ice ten feet away still hadn’t moved. Jude hadn’t wanted to shoot him. The guy had suddenly appeared around the side of the car and spotted Jude almost immediately, charging at him on silent feet, not uttering a sound, his face hidden by a black balaclava. Jude had been so taken by surprise, he hadn’t noticed the weapon until it was almost too late, until the man raised it while still running, and aimed it at him. Jude had fired a single shot, which’d hit the man center mass, dropping him to the ground immediately. There’d been no choice. Instinct and training had taken over, and Jude was glad he’d kept up a solid shooting regime at the range. He’d always been a good marksman, top of his class as a trainee. It all came down to this one split second.

If Jude didn’t move soon, his hands were going to be too numb to pull the trigger, even inside his gloves. And his injured leg was aching; he hadn’t considered how badly it’d be affected by this intense cold. But he couldn’t keep waiting forever. The warm gloves, knit hat, and extra sweater he’d found in the police storage were a godsend, and his work-issued boots were made to handle these types of conditions. But it must be twenty below out here. Cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey. At least the heavy sleet and snow had stopped falling, reduced to a light but freezing mist.

The drive out to the rest stop had been harrowing, the storm making it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of the truck, and Jude had chafed at the slow pace. Keeping his impatience in check had been almost impossible; only the thought of him ending up in a ditch, or smashed headlong into a tree, and therefore of no use to Aria, helped him maintain a slow and steady pace. Ladley’s truck was a godsend, the big fat tires sticking to the road even when it was icy and treacherous, the bright spotlights helping to light his way through the gloom. It’d taken him precious minutes to find a turnoff to the fire trail; everything looked so different covered in sheets of ice. He circled around twice before he found the opening, finally spotting the yellow police tape lying discarded by the edge of the trail. That yellow tape lying on the ground gave him hope that he was on the right track. Then he found the padlock on the gate had been cut and fresh tire tracks in the snow, and he knew his hunch had been right. And then Ladley’s truck really came into its own, handling the fire trail like it was out for a Sunday afternoon stroll. Jude vaguely wondered how the police vehicles had fared on this road when they’d gone in to retrieve bodies.

He still needed to check the guy on the ground, make sure he was disarmed, and remove any weapon within his reach before he could continue. First rule of hostilities involving a deadly weapon, was to make sure your back was secure, and you weren’t going to be taken by surprise when someone you thought you’d immobilized came back to life.

Nothing moved inside the vehicle. Jude stepped stealthily toward the body. With the balaclava covering his face, Jude had no idea who this man might be. The gun was still clenched in his right fist, and Jude prodded the man’s foot just to be sure. When there was no response, Jude carefully leaned down and pried the weapon from the lifeless fingers.

He’d just made sure the safety was off and placed the gun in his jacket pocket, when suddenly, the car began to rock, as if there was a struggle going on inside. A muffled scream emanated from the car, and Jude dropped any pretence at staying quiet, racing up the hill toward the vehicle.

Aria.

She was in trouble.

He was still ten feet away when something tumbled out of the rear passenger door. A swathe of blankets landed on the ice. The blankets began to move and writhe, and Aria’s head popped out from beneath the pile. Then two booted feet landed beside her head as a man dressed in a bulky winter jacket leaped from the car behind her. Jude skidded to a halt, bringing his gun up to aim at the intruder, but at the same time, his wounded leg twinged sharply, and he slipped on the ice. Crashing to his knees, he was barely able to save himself from going down completely.

By the time he recovered and looked up, the man had Aria held against his chest, using her like a human shield; a knife held to her throat.

“Put the gun down, Deputy,” the man called in a clear, commanding voice.

Jude got slowly to his feet, but didn’t lower his weapon. He recognized the man as the same one from the side of the road a day ago. He’d been right.

“Let her go,” he said in an equally clear tone, keeping his gaze trained on the man’s face, half-hidden beneath a knit hat. Not daring to look at Aria, because the fear in her eyes might just drive him to do something stupid.

“Not going to happen, son,” the man replied lightly.

Aria began to shiver, whether from the cold or from fear, Jude wasn’t sure. The blankets had dropped away when the man pulled her upright, and all she had on was a thin sweater and jeans, the same clothes she’d been wearing when she left the house this morning. She wasn’t dressed to be out in this weather. He needed to end this standoff soon, before she got hypothermia. The man, on the other hand, was well prepared for the cold, with sturdy boots, a thick jacket, and knit hat; but no gloves, Jude noted.

“If you don’t put the gun down, she won’t be leaving this forest alive,” the man intoned, almost politely, as if he’d be doing both of them a favor by ending her life. “She’s my daughter, you see, and therefore she belongs to me. I don’t want to have to kill her, but I would rather she was safe with Him, than back in your unholy company.”

What was this man talking about? Aria was his daughter? That was ridiculous. Who was this guy? But it sounded like his suspicion about the kidnappers being related to a cult might be true.

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