Pirate (Fargo Adventures 8)

“Ready.” Remi leaped.

He caught her at her waist, lowering her down. They repeated the process, using trees, ferns, and anything that covered their tracks. About five feet from the road, Sam stopped. The SUV’s engine rumbled above them.

“They’re coming,” Remi said.

He and Remi reached the road. Taking her by the hand, they ran across it, then stopped, looking down the mountain, nearly as steep as the slope they’d just come down. They’d have to be cautious and not leave a trail. He found an area about ten feet down where a large growth of ferns offered a hiding place. Hopping from the roots of one tree down to the roots of the next tree, they’d barely reached the copse of ferns when the SUV rumbled past, then stopped just a few feet above them.

They ducked behind the fronds as they heard the vehicle doors opening, then the sound of booted feet on the pavement.

“You see them?” Ivan asked.

“There,” Jak said.

“I don’t see anything.”

“At the top of the hillside near the road. You can see where they fell. Like bobsled trails.”

“Yeah. Now I see it. Doesn’t go any farther. You think they’re hiding up there?”

“Or they’re dead. Maybe I managed to hit them after all.”

Sam parted the leaves, just able to make out the two figures on the road about ten feet away. Both men, gripping their handguns, stood with their backs to Sam and Remi, searching the area above them on the mountainside. The SUV was parked, its front doors standing open.

So temptingly close.

The odds were not in their favor. Even if they could climb up to the edge of the road without making any noise, there was no cover once they got up there. Had the men not been armed, he might have considered it—a thought brought home when Jak raised his weapon, aiming right where Sam and Remi had been hiding only moments before.

He felt Remi stiffen beside him and looked back. A thick boa was slithering across her leg. “Don’t . . . move . . .” he whispered, watching as it slithered off.

“Nothing up there,” Jak said as he turned, then looked downhill. Suddenly, he fired again and again. Bullets whistled overhead. The rush of adrenaline sent Sam’s pulse into overdrive. “Something down there. I saw it.”

A few seconds of silence, then Sam heard the sound of the two men walking, their feet crunching on the loose gravel as they scoured the edge of the roadway.

“What’s that?” Ivan said. “I heard something.”

Sam heard it, too. A tap-tapping noise. At first it was behind him, then all over. The rain, he realized. The drops came down harder, splatting against them as they lay hidden.

“I don’t see anything,” Jak said after a moment. “Let’s get out of here.”

“What about the Fargos?”

“If they’re not dead, it’ll take them days to get back. No one takes this road.”

The men retreated to their SUV. Sam kept his arm over Remi, holding her long after Avery’s men got in, then drove off, the sound of their engine fading in the distance.

Remi shifted beside him. “Did I mention I hate snakes?”

“At least it wasn’t hungry.” He got up on his elbow, looking down the mountain, the drop to the road below steeper than the one they’d just climbed down. He waited until he caught a glimpse of the SUV, wanting to make sure it continued on without stopping.

He sank back, staring up at the tops of the trees, reveling in the feel of the rain as it splashed his face. “Wasn’t sure we were going to make it this time.”

Remi leaned back against the hillside, her shoulder next to his. “Of course we were. I never doubted it.”

“Except when the snake showed?”

She sat up, looked around as if worried another one might appear. “Not funny.”

Remi started shivering—probably more from the adrenaline leaving her body than the cool rain. He knew it would be best to keep moving. “We should go,” he said, helping her to her feet.