chapter SEVENTEEN
He was going to feel this for days.
Lynx lay on his side, pretending he was still unconscious as the three men argued about what to do with him. He took stock of his injuries and decided he was bruised but not beaten. Nothing broken, nor internal bleeding, but damn he was going to hurt. He’d make them hurt as soon as he could get out of his own restraints.
They had found his zip ties and had his hands secured behind his back and his feet restrained together. He’d never live this down if his fellow officers found him like this. He’d have to make sure that didn’t happen.
“We can dump him in the river,” Pete snarled.
That got Lynx’s attention off his injuries and back to the conversation these dumbasses were having. He slowly cracked open one eye. No one paid any attention to him. Were they really thinking of killing him? That was so not going to happen.
“We can’t k-kill him,” Chad sputtered. “He’s a trooper. And I know him.”
“You want to go to jail?” Pete got up in Chad’s face.
Chad cowered back. “No. But I’m not going to be a part of murder either.”
“You’re either with us or against us,” Big Bart added. “Guess what happens if you’re against us?” He belly laughed when Chad paled. “Got that right.” Big Bart slid a shifty look Pete’s way. “You know we could try a whole other type of hunting?”
Pete shared a look with Big Bart and then a smiled. “I haven’t done that since Iraq.”
Lynx’s blood shivered through his veins. Chad paled even further and backed up a few more steps. Then he ran for his life.
Pete threw his head back with sick laughter. “Let’s do it! But I want the trooper.”
Big Bart had an unnatural gleam in his eyes. “Just remember our motto.”
“Shoot, shovel, and shut up,” they quoted together following with a fist bump.
Big Bart grabbed his rifle and gear and traipsed after poor Chad.
Pete paced toward Lynx. “Been awake a while, I see.”
“You two are whacked.” Lynx struggled into a sitting position.
“There is nothing that makes you feel more alive than taking a life, whether big game or human. But hunting someone who I can pit skill and brains against is another high all its own.”
Lynx kept his mouth shut and let the idiot talk himself into his own grave.
“It’s actually more sporting for you this way. I could just leave you here to die, dump your body in the river, or give you the chance to kill me while I attempt to kill you.”
Lynx knew without a doubt how that scenario would turn out. This idiot was fertilizer.
“So what’s the game plan?” Lynx asked. “How sporting is this going to be?” Would the dumbass actually cut loose his ties?
“Think you have what it takes to take out a marine?”
“You’re a marine? Funny, all the marines I know have honor. There’s no honor in this.”
Pete smirked. “If I had no honor I’d shoot you where you sit. Instead, I’m going to let you go, and then hunt you down.”
“You are warped.” And it would be Lynx’s pleasure putting this bastard away.
“Just living on the edge.” Pete flipped open his switchblade. “Turn around.”
Like he would give this psychopath his back. Instead Lynx moved his restrained hands to his hips so Pete could cut the zip tie.
Pete chuckled. “This is going to be fun.”
Next he cut loose Lynx’s feet. Lynx fisted and released his hands, trying to pump blood back into his arms. He didn’t make any sudden moves as Pete had his rifle trained on him with one hand as he flipped the switchblade closed and pocketed it with the other.
“Are you going to leave me my weapon?” It galled him to know that this piss-ant had gotten the jump on him and had his Glock tucked into the waistband of his cargo pants.
Pete looked at him under hooded eyes. “That knock on your head must’ve f*cked up your brains.” Pete took Lynx’s Glock out of his waistband and hefted it up and down. “Nice piece. I’ll keep it as a trophy of your kill as I can’t really stuff and mount you on my wall.” He laughed at his sick joke. “But to make it more sporting, I’ll give you a ten minute head start.” His lips smirked into a cruel smile. “Promise.”
No way in hell did Lynx believe him. Slowly, he got to his feet, feeling the soreness from the hits to his gut and head. He wanted to rush Pete, take him down like a linebacker, but not when he held all the weapons.
Lynx inched back into the forest, not taking his eyes off Pete. When he felt more blended with his surroundings, he took off at a run for Chad. The idiot wouldn’t survive these f*ckups. And he’d make damn sure the f*ckups didn’t survive him.
Lynx became one with the forest, listening to her breathe, the animals converse, focusing on the subtle clues on which direction Chad and Big Bart had headed, all the while not leaving a trail for Pete to follow.
It didn’t take long for the crashing up ahead to alert him to Chad bumbling through the undergrowth. Then the cackle of Big Bart’s laughter taunting him.
“Dude, please, I’ve got me a wife and kids,” Chad begged for his life. Lynx had to give him props for trying. The man was as single as Lynx was. Scratch that. More single, since Lynx no longer considered himself unattached, not with Eva holding his heart.
Lynx snuck up on them, and peered through the thick brush. Chad was on his knees, his hands in the air, and Big Bart had his rifle trained on him.
“I really hoped you would’ve made this more sporting,” Big Bart said. “I hate it when they beg.”
They? How many times had these two done this?
Pete burst through the trees. “F*ck. I lost him.”
“The trooper? Are you shitting me?”
“Just finish this, and help me track him down. He just disappeared. No trace of him at all. Never seen anything like it.”
“Better let us go,” Chad said. “Lynx Maiski is different, he’s more.”
“More what?”
“They say more animal than man.”
Shut up, Chad. Lynx positioned himself to make a grab for Pete.
“Right,” Pete scoffed.
“No, listen, man. You don’t mess with the Maiskis.”
“Well, since you aren’t one of them we can dispose of you right here,” Pete said, raising his rifle. “Take your shot, Big Bart, or I’ll do it for you.”
Lynx rushed Pete from behind, taking him down to the forest floor, and getting Big Bart’s attention off Chad and onto them. They struggled, Lynx getting in a few lucky jabs, to repay him for the sucker punches of earlier, grabbing his weapon back in the tussle. He was too close to Pete to do any real damage, and vice versa. It was more of a wrestling match that Pete started to lose.
“Shoot the f*cker!” Pete yelled, grunting as Lynx got an arm around his neck.
Lynx rolled him just as there was the repeat of the rifle going off. Pete’s body jerked, and then went still.
Lynx whipped his gun around, and Big Bart froze.
“Put the gun down,” Lynx said in a deadly voice.
“Oh, thank you, God.” Chad raised his face into the heavens, his hands together while he prayed.
“Pete, man, talk to me,” Big Bart pleaded.
“I said put down the gun,” Lynx hollered, standing and inching toward Big Bart.
Big Bart blinked at Lynx. “I shot him.”
“Yeah, you did. And I’m going to shoot you if you don’t lay down your goddamn weapon.” The resolve in Lynx’s voice must have gotten through that thick skull of his, because he slowly lowered his rifle to the ground.
Lynx didn’t take his eyes off him as with one hand holding the Glock, he searched Big Bart’s pockets and located his zip ties. He secured his weapon in its holster, grabbed both of Big Bart’s arms and wrenched them behind his back.
“Shit, man, you’re killing me.” Big Bart groaned in pain.
“Uh, Lynx,” Chad said.
“Shut up, Chad. And don’t you dare move. I’m so f*cking mad at you.”
“But, man—”
“Shut the hell up.” Lynx finished restraining Big Bart with the zip tie, and searched him for weapons. He shoved him down to his knees. “Don’t even blink.”
Then he turned to Chad, his eyes scanning the area. “Where the hell did Pete go?”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Chad said. “He crawled off that way.” Chad pointed north.
Shit.
“Hands behind you, Chad.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Brought these poachers onto my Refuge, and I suspect you were responsible for the other kills I’ve found in the last few weeks.”
“Oh, man. Come on, don’t arrest me. Think of my mother.”
“I’m sure she could use the break from your constant screw-ups.” Lynx restrained Chad the same as he had Big Bart. Searching for weapons and finding him clean, Lynx grabbed his elbow and helped him to his feet. “You really are a dumbass.”
“I know. I promise to change. Can’t you just let it go?”
Lynx looked him in the eye until Chad glanced down at his feet. “Uh, guess not,” Chad said.
“You cooperate and I’ll tell the judge. That’s the best I can do. ”
Chad had enough smarts to give up on the matter.
He turned to Big Bart and yanked him to his feet. “Now, listen up. We are going to hike out of here. You two don’t want to give me any more trouble, because I’m really pissed off.” He read them their rights as he picked up Big Bart’s rifle and had both guns trained on them, marching them out of the forest, keeping an eye out for wounded Pete.
“Pete’s gonna get you,” Big Bart said. “You’re a dead man.”
Lynx nudged him to move faster as he opened up all his senses, scanning for anything that would warn him of Pete’s whereabouts. He should have made sure Pete was restrained rather than thinking he was dead. He knew better than to assume anything in his job. Assumptions got you killed.
Strung tight, he hiked his prisoners to the place he’d parked his truck.
Ah, shit.
His truck was gone. Pete had taken his keys when he’d gone through his pockets.
“Climb in the back,” Lynx said to the two, lowering the tailgate of the truck he’d disabled. Next time he’d disable his own, too, in order to safeguard against this happening again.
“I’m not riding back there with that,” Big Bart said, gesturing with his head to the severed moose they’d already poached.
Lynx prodded him with the end of the rifle. “Move.”
Cussing, Big Bart rolled into the bed of the truck, trying to stay clear of the blood and flies already gathering on the rotting, exposed flesh.
“Chad.”
“Seriously, dude.”
“Seriously. Get up there.”
There wasn’t a lot of room with the huge pointy rack of the bull moose.
“Backs together,” Lynx instructed, looking around the clearing just in case Pete laid in wait after moving his truck. There was nothing but silence. Even the forest creatures were quiet as they took time out to watch the entertainment. Lynx set down the rifle and holstered his Glock. Grabbing the rope laying in the bed of the truck, he secured the men together and then tied them to the moose carcass.
“Oh, man,” Chad complained.
“I’m sure this falls under cruel and unusual punishment,” Big Bart said.
Lynx smiled and made sure the knots were tight. He then hiked back into the forest and grabbed the distributer cap that he’d hidden. Making quick work of putting the part back and then using the keys he’d taken off of Big Bart, Lynx started the truck and headed to Chatanika. He called Nate, who it had turned out hadn’t received his previous text, and told him he needed backup, giving him Pete’s description and that he’d commandeered his U.S. National Fish and Wildlife Refuge vehicle.
Yeah, he’d have a tough time living that down.
WILD MEN OF ALASKA
Tiffinie Helmer's books
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