Night Prey. Sharon Dunn

Night Prey - Sharon  Dunn


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in the darkness, he said a quick prayer that he would be able to keep Jenna safe. His calm returned.

      He loved the remote parts of the ranch far away from houses and any artificial light. The intensity of the darkness had always caused his heart to beat faster. Tonight, the surrounding vastness reminded him of how huge God was. He was just a speck in the universe and God loved him anyway.

      “I’m not afraid, are you?” she challenged and then laughed at their game. Her boots scraped the hard rock. She moved so she was standing next to him. Her shoulder brushed against his, sending a charge of electricity up his arm. “It’s like a game of chicken, right?” she whispered.

      They stood for a moment, shoulders pressed together. The game helped lighten the tension over what they might be facing in the canyon. Keith focused on the gentle inhale and exhale of Jenna’s breathing.

      He leaned forward and felt along the handlebars until he touched the canvas tool bag, then reached in. His fingers wrapped around the cold metal cylinder of the flashlight. He clicked on the light and shone it in her direction being careful not to shine it directly in her eyes.

      “Should we get going?” She turned and headed into the canyon.

      Once she wasn’t looking at him, he touched the gun on his hip. He had every confidence all his training meant he could deal with whatever they faced, but could Jenna? Once again, he thought that maybe he should have told her to go back home. But he knew he wouldn’t have been able to talk her out of coming. Her determination to end the threat against her birds was strong. That somebody thought his grandparents’ land was open for public use was wearing on him, too. The sooner they got to the bottom of this, the better.

      He increased his pace and caught up with Jenna. He tuned into the sounds around him, ready to respond to any threat.

      He shone the flashlight ahead of her. “Careful, you don’t want to fall.”

      “I’ll be fine,” she said.

      They hiked over the rocky ground as the canyon walls closed in on them.

      She stopped and grabbed his wrist. “You hear that?” She spoke in a harsh whisper.

      Keith turned his head and listened. A faint mechanical thrum, like a bee buzzing under a glass jar, pressed on his ears. He shone the light. Only the granite walls of the canyon came into view.

      Jenna rested a hand on his shoulder. “We must be close. I say we keep going.”

      He picked up on a hint of fear in her voice. “Let me stay in front.” He trudged forward, and she followed behind him. The noise faded in and out, but always sounded far away. The canyon walls, though, had a way of creating echoes that played tricks with sound.

      The smolder of wood burning thickened the air and filled his nostrils. They were close.

      The distance between the walls of the canyon increased as they stepped into an open flat spot with no vegetation.

      He shone the flashlight which revealed motorcycle and four-wheeler tracks. “What happened here?”

      “Trespassers, big-time.” Anger coursed through Keith. The nerve of people disrespecting his grandparents like this.

      Jenna grabbed his hand and aimed the flashlight toward the source of the smoke. “It looks like the campfire was just put out.” She walked over to it and kicked at the rocks that formed a circle.

      Keith edged toward Jenna. “We could hear the sound of their bikes on the way up the canyon. They are probably still pretty close.”

      Even though he couldn’t hear anything now, an inner instinct told him they were not safe. The air felt stirred up.

      He shone the light around the edges of the camp. Only blackness. A coyote howled in the distance. Jenna gripped his arm. Keith aimed the flashlight a few feet from the fire, revealing empty beer bottles. He wanted to believe that it was just teenagers having a party, but something felt more sinister here.

      “Where do you suppose they went?”

      He stepped away from the fire. The tire tracks went around in circles like someone was joyriding.

      She continued to hold his arm as they stepped toward the surrounding forest. Some of the tracks led out of the camp to the east and others went in the opposite direction. “They split up,” she said.

      Or maybe not. It was hard to tell. The tire impressions were distorted by darkness and uneven ground. The riders had crisscrossed over each other’s paths a dozen times.

      As if she had read his mind, Jenna said, “I count two four-wheelers and two, maybe three dirt bikes.”

      “At least.” It was a big group, anyway. He turned his attention in the other direction. Maybe another three or four riders had gone that way. What were they after? What had brought them here?

      Jenna gripped his arm even tighter. “That’s a lot of people,” she said.

      Whether they were teenagers or not, the thought of someone tromping around his grandfather’s ranch and shooting at him and Jenna infuriated him. Had Gramps’s land been targeted because he was older and less able to fight back?

      Jenna tensed. “They’re coming back.” Panic filled her voice.

      The mechanical clang of a bike motor echoed through the canyon. “I can’t tell where it’s coming from.” Keith angled his torso to one side and then pivoted in the opposite direction.

      The noise grew louder, then softer, then increased in volume again.

      “This way.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and stepped toward a stand of trees. After Jenna slipped behind a tree, he clicked off the flashlight and settled beside her on the ground.

      The roar of the bike intensified. A second motor was added to the mix. He brushed a hand over the gun in his holster. Jenna pressed close to him.

      They crouched with the darkness surrounding them. Jenna’s clothes rustled as she shifted on the ground. She stiffened when the bike noise got louder and then relaxed when the clatter of the motors faded.

      “I think they are gone,” she said as she melted against him.

      “Maybe.” He couldn’t hear anything, either, but he wasn’t convinced the danger was over.

      He clicked on the flashlight to have a quick look. Jenna uttered a sound as though she were about to say something. But then her fingers gripped his upper arm.

      The roar of a four-wheeler was on top of them with the suddenness of an explosion.

      Jenna stood up halfway, and Keith pulled her down as he clicked off the light. “You’ll be seen.”

      In an instant, a four-wheeler was in the camp, followed by a second one, blocking the path Keith and Jenna had taken into the canyon. As the noise assaulted his ears, adrenaline surged through him. They couldn’t leave the way they had come. Jenna clung to him, wrapping her arm through his.

      The riders wore helmets, making it impossible to tell who they were. One of the four-wheelers turned in their direction, catching them in the headlights. They’d been spotted. Keith turned, pulling Jenna deeper into the trees.

      The rider turned off his engine and dismounted from the bike. He stalked toward the trees where they had taken cover.

      Keith searched his memory for the layout of this part of the ranch as they ran through the forest. Behind them, one of the four-wheelers faded in the distance.

      They scrambled through the darkness. A branch whacked against his forehead. He shone the light briefly to find the path with the least hazards and then turned it off.

      Jenna tugged on his shirt. “This way.” She sucked in air and struggled to speak. “We can circle back around to the other side of the canyon.”

      Behind them, branches broke and cracked. They were being chased.

      Still


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