Never Cry Mercy by L. T. Ryan Page B

could fit through anymore. Halfway in he had to shimmy his hips side to side to get past. He closed his eyes and allowed his other senses to take over. After a few seconds he heard voices.
    "Where'd she go?" a man said.
    Molly.
    She'd made it out, got away from the men.
    "I don't know, but we better find her." Different voice, but Jack couldn't place it either. "She saw our faces. It won't take long to track us down if she makes it to the cops."
    Were they local? Wanted by the police? They didn't sound like they were from around Crystal River.
    "She called out for the boys to run," the other guy said. "Any idea how many kids were in there?"
    "No clue. But we didn't see them, so I doubt they saw us. She's our priority now. We'll take care of any others when we find them. We better hurry finding her, though. If those boys ran, it won't be long until the cops show up."
    The planks above Jack creaked as the men passed. Flashlight beams knifed through the thin slits between the decking, illuminating his hands, head, the area in front of him. He searched the ground around him until he came up with a rock for each hand. The jagged edges dug into his fingers and palms. Would it do any good against a grown man? He supposed so, as long as he could work up a decent swing. That wouldn't happen where he was hiding. But it wasn't like the men could make it underneath the porch.
    Their bullets could, though.
    And that thought had Jack crawling back toward the house. The further from the opening, the less likely they'd spot him, if they looked under there at all.
    "Look," one of the men said a few moments later. "There, in the woods."
    Their heavy footsteps drowned out the ambient noises of the humid Florida evening. Jack waited a moment, started to move, then felt the vibrations of more men running across the porch.
    The hell? How many are there?
    He couldn't stay under there all night. Not while his brother was out trying to protect his sister. And not while Molly was out there being hunted. Hell with that. There were weapons inside, and he knew where to find them.

Chapter 15
    My first instinct was to run into the house. Training and experience took over. This was a case where I knew not to trust my gut. If someone wanted to draw me into an ambush, this was the perfect way.
    Herbie had been out of the house. Ingrid was supposed to follow. I figured after our conversation, she had left. No point hanging around alone. It made perfect sense that the older guy would use Linus or another of his guys to set a trap like this. Bring a couple fresh bodies along. Lure me in by making me believe something happened to the old couple. If they'd been watching the house, they knew Herbie and Ingrid were gone.
    I dashed between two houses, hopped a fence. A dog barked from inside. If anyone heard him, they ignored the racket. For the moment, at least. I crossed a freshly mowed yard and found a spot where I could peer through a crack between two fence boards. The wind had picked up. Grass clippings blew into my face. The busted screen door swayed, banging into the heavy wooden door. I waited as the sunlight dimmed and the gusts increased. The first patter of rain hit, followed not long after by the banging of pea-sized hail.
    No one came out of the house. The hedges didn't move unnaturally due to someone hiding there and growing impatient. If this was a set-up, the men behind it were more disciplined than I pegged them for.
    I decided to make my move toward the residence. There might be an attack, but the conditions were in my favor. I went up and over the fence in a single movement. I felt a jolt shoot up my right leg. The ground where I'd landed was uneven, and I'd rolled my ankle. I grimaced against the flash of pain. Last thing I needed was an injury that limited my mobility.
    Three steps into my dash across the street and I thought I was going down. I hopped across the rest of the way on one foot, keeping my focus straight ahead so I wouldn't throw