I could hear his feet pounding on the trail behind me, but my focus was only on the way ahead. If I could just keep moving, just keep climbing, I could reach her in time.
In time for what, I didn’t know.
“Hedge.”
When Hawthorn’s hand landed on my arm, I panicked, stumbling to a stop and turning to face him, my fists up and already swinging.
“Hey,” he huffed, dodging backward in time to avoid a punch to the face.
“Get off me, man,” I snarled. “I gotta go!”
“I know, brother.” He held his hands up, his face earnest. “And I’m not gonna stop you. But, let’s just take a breath to think about what we might be walking into here.”
I didn’t want to. Didn’t want to stop at all, but I knew he was right. Fisting my hands on my hips, I my head tipped back to the gray sky. The clouds hung low and heavy above us, and I hoped we weren’t in for another storm before the day was over.
Looking back at Hawthorn, I could see the understanding in his eyes.
“It was a single shot, a pistol if I had to guess,” he reasoned, his calm voice doing nothing to soothe my frazzled nerves. Dropping his bag on the ground, I watched as he fished around inside, pulling out his own weapon and a thigh holster. Realizing that he’s being so much smarter about all of this than me, I followed suit, retrieving my own weapon and securing it to my thigh.
“Best I can figure it came from that way.” Hawthorn gestured over my shoulder, the same direction we had already been moving, as he strapped the holster on and placed the gun inside securely. “Let’s keep going. I haven’t seen another person since we started, but we’ll keep our eyes and ears open. If they’re already shooting, the last thing you want to be doing is letting them know we’re coming.”
I nodded, ready to head out again, when a beeping sound came from Hawthorn’s pocket. We both stared as he pulled it out, the screen showing a string of incoming texts.
How the hell did he have any service?
Yanking my own phone out of my pocket, I pressed the button to turn it on, growling in frustration when it seemed to take ages.
“It’s Hack,” Hawthorn said, scrolling through his messages, and my heart leapt to my throat. He looked up at me, his eyes wide. “They contacted Stone.” He swallowed, his face grave as he went on. “They’re finally asking for a ransom.”
“What’s the problem?” I asked, looking down and pulling up Stone’s number, ready to dial.
“They—” he paused again, and I lifted my head to see him frowning at the screen. “They think they have Penelope.”
“What did you just say?”
“Hedge, man. It sounds like they grabbed the wrong girl.”