“I know you’re out there, Mr. Caleb Emerson!” Grubbs shouted. “You killed Brandon-Lee. You slaughtered him like an animal. First you nearly beat him to death, and then you cut him open! I’m gonna find you, Mr. Caleb Emerson. And when I do, it’s gonna be ugly. Gonna be ugly for a very long time.”

Another few shots. These sounded closer, but still no bullets hit near him. Caleb figured maybe they were trying to flush him out. Scare him and make him give away his position.

“You know, I was this close to letting you go after Brandon-Lee bruised you up a little. Now I think we’re just gonna turn you inside out.”

A woman’s voice called out, “Papa, I found a blood trail.” She sounded much closer than Grubbs.

Caleb heard footsteps through the leaves. Very, very close. His clock had ticked down to nothing. He should have kept moving. He needed to start moving again.

This was either his last chance to live, or his best chance to die.

* * *

Victoria had taken over the lead, now that she knew which blazes to look for. The shooting terrified her. But the fact that it kept going reassured her in a weird way. You don’t keep firing at someone who’s already dead, do you?

Shouting?

She held up her hand for the small parade to stop, then brought her finger to her lips to bring silence.

She was right. She heard yelling in the distance. She couldn’t make out the words, and even the direction was hard to discern through all the foliage, but she recognized the tone. She was hearing anger.

And it wasn’t Caleb’s voice.

“We’re close,” she said.

* * *

The sound of the footsteps through the leaves was joined by a shadow. Whoever this lady was, she was close. Caleb didn’t dare move, but he sensed that if he did, he’d see her standing atop the ravine, one downward glance away from seeing him. In the distance, but getting nearer, he heard more footsteps running through the leaves.

“I’m over here!” the lady yelled.

Caleb was out of time. He leapt to his feet, and, sure enough, there she was, her legs inches from Caleb’s face. She squeaked a little scream, but before she could form words, he grabbed both her ankles and pulled. She lost her grip on her rifle and hit the rocks hard, her skull smashing against the edge of an erupting boulder. She never moved.

Caleb never slowed.

He snatched up the dropped rifle and took off at a sprint.

“There! I see him!” Shots were fired, but again, they must have gone wild.

Caleb hook-slid along the ground and rolled to a prone shooter’s position. Grubbs and his family were shooting on the run and not able to hit anything. If he could shoot from a stable platform . . .