was Tim, apparently, who looked at his partner’s pistol with open envy, and absent-mindedly stroked at his own hip. The group was well-armed, but most of the weapons were in the trucks as befit their just-in-case status.
J ason missed the stranger’s opening comment, but it was obviously a wisecrack, to judge by Terry’s snort and the snarls emanating from Ray and Tim.
“ Buddy, you’re in trouble,” Ray said. “This area is closed to the public for your own safety. You’re not supposed to be here.”
T he stranger didn’t look impressed. While his hands were up in a gesture of surrender, his face under his ball cap and beneath his sunglasses revealed a barely suppressed smirk. He faced the rangers, medium height and lean in a safari-style shirt with the sleeves rolled up and buttoned in place. But his legs below his shorts looked poised to bolt at a moment’s notice.
R ay must have picked up on the stranger’s disdain. Jason’s ear’s rang as the wannabe cop fired a shot in the air, and he could barely make out the following words.
“ Goddamnit! I’m talking to you!”
T he stranger’s dog, a big, black-and-white Australian shepherd mix, obviously picked up on the confrontational vibe; happily licking his master’s face just a moment before, now he glared at Ray and growled.
J ason took a quick glance at his team, and honestly couldn’t blame the stranger for his attitude. Bare-chested, bare-breasted and brandishing flaming torches, the gathering looked like… Hell, Jason didn’t know what it looked like, but he suddenly felt like he should have a bone through his nose. The stranger looked too comfortable with the outdoors to be persuaded that this was an official Forest Service operation.
“ Crap. Ray, grab that guy and bring him over here. Let’s see what’s on his phone.”
T hat’s when the popping noises sounded—one, two, three. And three little spurts of dirt erupted in front of Ray.
T im and Ray immediately hit the dirt. Jason stared at Samantha, who looked at Rena, who peered at Bob, who glanced at Terry. Terry shielded his eyes with his left hand and pointed off into the trees at the far side of the field.
“ Hey, somebody over there is shooting at us!”
T wo more pops.
E verybody joined Ray and Tim in the dirt.
Chapter 19
P hone in hand, Scott ran like hell back to his friends. He raced across the field, panting and sweating from nerves as much as from exertion. Champ trotted easily alongside with his mouth open in a big grin.
T he dog had no idea what was going on—he just knew his human friend had involved him in an adventure, and he was having fun.
L ani threw Scott’s pack at him as he reached the trees. The pack’s blue-gray fabric and yellow bungee cords filled his vision until he caught it one-handed in mid-air and hung a strap over his left shoulder with barely a break in stride. He felt the heavy weight of his gun in its holster slap him in the small of the back, and he vowed never again to leave it behind.
L ani ran ahead of him, runner’s legs pumping, long, blonde hair flying from under her floppy trail hat, and athletic bra straining to do its duty.
A lready huffing, Rollo took the lead. He had his pack over one shoulder, and what looked like an undersized rifle bobbed in his free hand.
T hey ran through the woods, breathing deeply the thick, sweet smell of the trees that was now flavored with a strong hint of smoke. They ran between trees, across a bed of pine needles, and through high foxtails that stuck in their socks, pierced their ankles and caused Champ to yelp.
A nd they ran without direction, because panic erased whatever vestigial hunch as to the truck’s location they might have retained.
T hey came out of the trees and ran along a dirt road, preferring a clear path to somewhere over a blind run through forest that might bring them back to the firebugs—the armed firebugs.
T hey ran until Rollo stopped in his tracks, pivoted
J ason missed the stranger’s opening comment, but it was obviously a wisecrack, to judge by Terry’s snort and the snarls emanating from Ray and Tim.
“ Buddy, you’re in trouble,” Ray said. “This area is closed to the public for your own safety. You’re not supposed to be here.”
T he stranger didn’t look impressed. While his hands were up in a gesture of surrender, his face under his ball cap and beneath his sunglasses revealed a barely suppressed smirk. He faced the rangers, medium height and lean in a safari-style shirt with the sleeves rolled up and buttoned in place. But his legs below his shorts looked poised to bolt at a moment’s notice.
R ay must have picked up on the stranger’s disdain. Jason’s ear’s rang as the wannabe cop fired a shot in the air, and he could barely make out the following words.
“ Goddamnit! I’m talking to you!”
T he stranger’s dog, a big, black-and-white Australian shepherd mix, obviously picked up on the confrontational vibe; happily licking his master’s face just a moment before, now he glared at Ray and growled.
J ason took a quick glance at his team, and honestly couldn’t blame the stranger for his attitude. Bare-chested, bare-breasted and brandishing flaming torches, the gathering looked like… Hell, Jason didn’t know what it looked like, but he suddenly felt like he should have a bone through his nose. The stranger looked too comfortable with the outdoors to be persuaded that this was an official Forest Service operation.
“ Crap. Ray, grab that guy and bring him over here. Let’s see what’s on his phone.”
T hat’s when the popping noises sounded—one, two, three. And three little spurts of dirt erupted in front of Ray.
T im and Ray immediately hit the dirt. Jason stared at Samantha, who looked at Rena, who peered at Bob, who glanced at Terry. Terry shielded his eyes with his left hand and pointed off into the trees at the far side of the field.
“ Hey, somebody over there is shooting at us!”
T wo more pops.
E verybody joined Ray and Tim in the dirt.
Chapter 19
P hone in hand, Scott ran like hell back to his friends. He raced across the field, panting and sweating from nerves as much as from exertion. Champ trotted easily alongside with his mouth open in a big grin.
T he dog had no idea what was going on—he just knew his human friend had involved him in an adventure, and he was having fun.
L ani threw Scott’s pack at him as he reached the trees. The pack’s blue-gray fabric and yellow bungee cords filled his vision until he caught it one-handed in mid-air and hung a strap over his left shoulder with barely a break in stride. He felt the heavy weight of his gun in its holster slap him in the small of the back, and he vowed never again to leave it behind.
L ani ran ahead of him, runner’s legs pumping, long, blonde hair flying from under her floppy trail hat, and athletic bra straining to do its duty.
A lready huffing, Rollo took the lead. He had his pack over one shoulder, and what looked like an undersized rifle bobbed in his free hand.
T hey ran through the woods, breathing deeply the thick, sweet smell of the trees that was now flavored with a strong hint of smoke. They ran between trees, across a bed of pine needles, and through high foxtails that stuck in their socks, pierced their ankles and caused Champ to yelp.
A nd they ran without direction, because panic erased whatever vestigial hunch as to the truck’s location they might have retained.
T hey came out of the trees and ran along a dirt road, preferring a clear path to somewhere over a blind run through forest that might bring them back to the firebugs—the armed firebugs.
T hey ran until Rollo stopped in his tracks, pivoted
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