“You won’t last two hours. You’re slowly bleeding out.”

“I’ll be fine. Get Grangeland to a hospital, Harv. Land directly on its helicopter pad.”

“Shit.”

“Go on. No long good-byes.”

“Nathan, I—”

He smiled. “Get going. You’ll hear me popping off shots to bring Leonard down here. Be careful traversing that sand wash.”

“Nail his ass, Nate.”

“You can count on it.”

Chapter 28

Chapter  28

Nathan turned his radio on and pressed the transmit button. Distraction time. “You copy, Bridgestone?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“You mad at me for the ‘give my regards in hell’ comment?”

“Naw, it seemed appropriate at the time.” Bridgestone stayed quiet for a moment. “What’s your story, McBride? Why do you give a shit? Why risk your life over this?”

“Maybe it’s the good-versus-evil thing. Maybe I’m curious to know if good truly is stronger than evil.”

“Who’s who?”

“Well, the last I checked, I didn’t murder twenty-four innocent people sitting at their desks.”

“Point taken.”

Nathan popped off two quick rounds at nothing. “Gotta go.”

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

“You’ve got a quick wit, better hope you’re as fast with that rifle.”

“I am.”

“You’d better be. We’ll see you at your money stash.” Nathan had purposely said we’ll. He turned off the radio, popped off two more shots, and moved away downstream. So far, so good. If Leonard was on the move, he couldn’t be stationary and actively looking for Harv. At best, all Leonard could do was stop every so often and make a quick sweep of the canyon. He’d never see Harv that way. Harv was too good.

Nathan took slow, deliberate steps through the underbrush, glancing over his shoulder for the cat. He knew the scent of his blood remained strong. Although he believed the animal to be long gone, he wasn’t willing to bet his life on it.

He estimated another five hundred yards or so before he had any chance of seeing the rock spire at the money stash. Up ahead, he saw where the canyon made a horseshoe turn to the north and knew the spire was around that bend on the right side. If he were Leonard, he’d pick a spot within three hundred yards of the spire, probably on this side of it, set up shop, and wait for his opponent to come to him. One thing was certain: Leonard had the speed advantage, even if Nathan chose to throw caution to the wind. His calf was killing him, almost as painful as his arm, but it wasn’t losing as much blood. The blood loss from his arm would soon become a concern.