Chapter 21

Sarah couldn’t stop looking at Otto. As they walked through the snow, silent except for the slight crunch of snow underneath their boots—or paws or hooves—Sarah kept sneaking peeks at Otto over her shoulder. Having him so close, knowing that he loved her, made the bombs, the bodies, the long ride through the blizzard, Aaron—all of it—seem like a fading nightmare.

She glanced back at him again, smiling when she caught his gaze. The corners of his mouth tipped up in his gradual way, and her heart almost hurt from joy at seeing that again. Until that point, Sarah hadn’t realized how scared she’d been that something had happened to him. Now, she couldn’t stop glancing over her shoulder, just to check to make sure he was still there.

Out of habit, she kept doing an animal count. Hortense was doing a better job at keeping up, although whether that was because Otto was there or because she knew she was headed for someplace warm and dry for the night, Sarah didn’t know. Xena seemed a bit shyer with Grace there, and was walking so close behind Sarah that her paws brushed the backs of Sarah’s boots.

They were all on edge, staying silent, their gazes roaming the area in a steady scan as they walked in a tight group. Grace had something on her back. In the dim light, it took Sarah a few minutes to figure out what it was.

“Is that…a crossbow?” Sarah whispered.

“Yes.” A strange expression crossed Grace’s face. “I don’t know how to use it yet, though, so I’m not much help.”

Otto cleared his throat quietly. “You were a lot of help as a spotter, Grace.”

“What happened?” Sarah asked, looking at Grace’s unhappy profile and then back at an equally grim Otto.

Neither answered, keeping their eyes on anything but her. She fell silent, deciding to ask Otto when they were alone. They walked in tense silence for a few more minutes until they came to a tall, menacing-looking gate. When they stopped, Sarah realized how incredibly tired she was. The thought of taking even one more step was overwhelming.

Otto removed the lock and unwound the chain. Once they’d slipped through the gate, he rearranged it to look as if the gate was secured again.

Otto, leading Bean, put a hand on Sarah’s back, urging her forward. Xena followed, but Mort lagged behind, limping badly. After handing Bean’s lead rope to Sarah, Otto returned to Mort, lifting the large dog like he weighed nothing. Sarah and Grace waited until Otto had caught up, and then they continued their trek through the snow. The security lights were muted by the still-falling snow, and Sarah peered through the dimness, looking for the building housing the workshop.

When they reached an outhouse, Otto carried Mort inside.

Confused, Sarah and Grace stared at each other, and then inside the tiny shed. In the dim light, Sarah watched as Otto swung the seat to the side and opened the trap door beneath it, all while holding Mort with one strong arm. He looked at Sarah. “This ladder leads into the bunker. It’ll be safer in there.”

“I want to help put Bean and Hortense away.” She couldn’t admit that, now that she was with Otto again, she didn’t want to be separated, even for a short time. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

He hesitated, but finally nodded and gestured toward Grace.

“Wait,” Sarah said, unbuckling the waist strap of the backpack and slipping it off her shoulders. She fished out a folding knife and flashlight before holding the pack out toward Grace, careful not to jostle the cat. “Can you take Bob down?”

“Bob?”

“Otto’s cat.”

“Oh.” Grace gave a small choke of a laugh as she pulled off her crossbow before easing her arms through the straps. “I thought you’d named your favorite pack or something.” She swung the crossbow over her shoulder and visibly braced herself. Looking like she was scared out of her mind and trying to hide it, Grace started to descend the ladder, quickly disappearing into the darkness below.

“You brought Bob, too?” Otto asked quietly.

“Yes. I didn’t think he’d follow like the others, so I put the poor guy in the pack pocket. He’s pretty unhappy about it.”

Otto was quiet as he studied her for a long moment. “Thank you.” His voice sounded rusty. “I’ll be right back.” He used one hand on the ladder and the other to steady Mort over his shoulder as he followed Grace through the opening. In just a few seconds, Sarah was all by herself, hanging on to Bean’s lead rope with a white-knuckled grip.

“Dummy,” she whispered to herself, not able to take her eyes off the spot where Otto had disappeared. “You were on your own for much longer, and you did just fine. Don’t lose it now.”

The wind hummed around them, and Xena pressed against the backs of her legs. Sarah didn’t want to admit to herself that she was just as comforted by the contact as the dog was.

Otto’s head popped through the hole, and Sarah jumped.

“Come here, Xena,” he said quietly, but she hunched lower and looked away from him, as if she could disappear that way.

“I think she’s coming with us,” Sarah said, her voice shaking slightly.

Even in the low light, she could see Otto’s gaze sharpen as he looked at her. “That’s fine. We’ll bring her down with us once we get the other two settled. Are you cold?”

“I’ll live. Don’t you want to bring Hortense down there?”

“No.” He boosted himself out of the hole, closed the trapdoor, and swung the seat over it, hiding the entrance. “Bean needs the company.”

“Right.” She handed him the lead rope after Otto closed the outhouse—fake outhouse—door. “I forgot that they’re usually roomies.”

They walked in silence for a few moments before Otto asked, “What happened?”

“They blew up your house,” she said, her stomach twisting as she remembered the black skeleton enveloped by orange and red flames. “I’m sorry.”

Otto didn’t respond for several moments, and Sarah felt tears sting her eyes. It had been such a beautiful house. Finally, he spoke, his voice rough. “You saved them all.”

“I couldn’t get to the chickens.” Sarah bit her lip. “I probably should’ve gone outside and at least let them out, but I was scared Aaron’s men hadn’t left or were waiting right outside the barn to grab me.”

“No, they’re safest in their coop,” Otto assured her. “There’s plenty of food and the waterer’s heated, so they’ll be fine for a few days while we get all this”—he waved a hand, encompassing the entire horrible situation in one gesture—“under control.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t come here—”

Otto put a hand on the back of her neck, and she went silent. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “And I’m very glad you came here.”

“You are?” She just couldn’t believe that, even with the reassuring weight of his hand on her. “Everything’s on fire, and your house is gone.”

“Sarah.” He stopped by the big workshop door and turned toward her. “Buildings and mountain passes can be rebuilt. As long as you’re safe, I’m grateful.”

She blinked, overwhelmed. “Oh.”

Otto gave her that slow smile again and opened the door. It rattled as it went up, making Sarah jump. Otto turned on a small flashlight and led Bean into the shop. After hesitating in the entrance for a brief moment, Bean plodded after him. Poor guy, Sarah thought as she walked in behind them, Xena right next to her. Bean must be even more exhausted than she was. Hortense followed them in. Grabbing the hanging rope, Sarah lowered the door.

It was too loud, seeming to ring through the night, and it made her cringe. She breathed out in relief once it was down. The shop was rough, with a dirt floor and unfinished walls. Just a workbench on one wall changed it from a “shed” to a “workshop,” but it would work for Bean and Hortense. As Theo had predicted, there was a small stack of alfalfa hay bales stacked against one wall. Hortense immediately walked over and helped herself to a bite.

Grabbing an empty bucket, Sarah brought it to the spigot next to the workbench and filled it with water. Xena followed, getting a drink as it flowed in. Otto unclipped the lead rope from Bean’s halter and opened one of the hay bales, cutting the twine holding it together before pocketing his knife.

Sarah moved the full bucket over by the hay and then stepped away as both Bean and Hortense crowded in to drink. Xena waited until the other two had finished before taking her second turn at the bucket. Leaning her shoulder against the wall, Sarah watched them, feeling both exhausted and triumphant. She’d gotten all the animals to Otto safely. Now they just needed to save the town from her brother.

“I wish they could join us in the bunker where it’s warmer,” she said as Otto walked over to her.

“They’d hate it down there.” He gave her a small, tired smile. “Horses and goats like it colder than we do. As long as they have protection from the elements and hay in front of them, they’ll be happy.”

With that worry soothed, Sarah’s thoughts jumped back to their messed-up situation. “What’s the plan?”

Otto pulled off his gloves and rubbed a hand over his face. “Still need to come up with one.”

Sarah couldn’t resist. She took his bare hand in hers. “We’ll figure it out. You’re safe. The rest is easy.”

His smile was tired but still gorgeous. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.” He hesitated, watching her intently. “I really do love you.”

The words sent a warm thrill through her. It was one thing for him to say it in the heat of the moment, right after he’d realized that she was alive and unhurt. For him to tell her now, in the relative safety of the workshop, meant that he hadn’t said it merely because emotions were running high. The way he looked at her, his gaze steady and unwavering, erased all doubts. He meant what he said.

Squeezing his hand, she looked back at him, trying to project that same confidence. So much of her life had been about hiding what she felt, about presenting a calm front, pretending that the ever-present danger and fear didn’t bother her. Now, she wanted to do the opposite. She wanted Otto to see how she felt, to believe her as she believed him.

“I love you, too.”

Otto smiled, and she knew that it had worked. He’d seen that she meant the words with everything inside her.

Leaning down, he kissed her lightly. She caught the back of his head and held him there, needing more than just a peck. She hadn’t been sure if she would ever see him again, hadn’t known if he was even alive. A simple, gentle kiss was not nearly enough.

Otto seemed to agree. He intensified the kiss, pressing more firmly against her as his lips parted. She met his tongue with hers, and he groaned deep in his chest. Otto kissed her harder, deeper, almost wildly, as if he needed to dive into her or he would die. Sarah knew she felt that way. Kissing him wasn’t just something she wanted. She needed it, needed him, with a bone-deep instinct that made her clutch his hand and the back of his head, desperate for him not to pull away.

His arm wrapped around her, tugging her close, their joined hands locked between their bodies. Their kisses grew frantic. Even though she now knew Otto was alive, all of her earlier fears, all the shocks and horrors she’d encountered welled up inside her, pressing to get out. He was the only one who could make her feel like everything would turn out okay, despite the terrible things that had happened.

She couldn’t get close enough to him, but she didn’t want to let go of his hand in order to clutch him more tightly to her. From the way he was holding her, she knew he felt the same way. The workshop, the animals, the snowstorm, the whole nightmare of a night faded, and there was only Otto—his huge, hard body and his amazingly gentle hands. Too soon, he pulled away, breathing hard.

“We should get into the bunker,” he said, his voice rough and reluctant.

Although she hated to stop kissing him, Sarah knew he was right. With a sigh, she pulled his head down. His mouth was tempting, but she knew it’d be even harder to stop a second time. Instead, she gave him a peck on the nose that made him smile. Seeing that was almost as belly-melting as his kisses.

Giving her a final hug, Otto released her. Sarah felt a surge of anger for Aaron. He never could let her be. He was determined to ruin every ounce of happiness she managed to find. This time, though, he wouldn’t win. She was hanging on to Otto with everything she had.

Xena pressed against Sarah’s side, as if making sure she wouldn’t be left behind. Reaching down, she stroked the dog’s head reassuringly.

Otto moved to the human-sized door, rather than raise the overhead one again. Silently opening the door, he looked around and then motioned for Sarah to come out. She braced herself for the wind, but the night was still. Although a little snow still fell, it was in soft, large flakes, rather than the hard ice pellets that had stung her face the entire ride to town. Sarah looked around at the way the security lights softly lit the property, showing the snowy blanket that covered everything. It was beautiful, like a Christmas card.

Their footsteps were silent in the soft layer of snow, so the only sound was the occasional swish of rubbing fabric as they walked. Shouldn’t there be other sounds? Sarah found herself walking faster. The snow-covered surroundings and too-silent night seemed suddenly eerie, rather than peaceful.

They were crossing an open section, and she picked up the pace so that she was right behind Otto. It felt too exposed, like anyone could see them. The shadows around them suddenly had a thousand eyes, all focused on Sarah. There was a strange buzz in the distance, so faint that Sarah wondered if she was imagining it. After all, her imagination seemed to be operating at full force at the moment.

One of the shadows detached from a clump of trees and headed toward them. Sarah sucked in a breath, ready to warn Otto, but he’d already drawn his gun. He knew. The figure got closer, not seeming at all intimidated by the weapon pointed at him. Sarah’s muscles tensed and her heart started pounding.

“Sarah, get back to the workshop,” Otto barked, the quietness of his words not diminishing the command.

Sarah moved to obey, but she only took a step back before the approaching man’s voice reached her. Her body went wobbly with relief.

“Otto.” It was Lieutenant Blessard.

“Why are you out of the bunker? Has it been breached?”

A shock of fear hit Sarah at the thought, but the lieutenant shook his head. “When you didn’t return to the bunker, I thought you might need help. Blanchett’s people are headed this way.”

The relief of a moment ago was gone again. How had Aaron found them? He had to be tracking them, but how?

“We need all our trained guys back here. Sarah, come with me back to the bunker. Otto, take the dog and find Theo and Hugh. The people in town can wait. They’ll be safe. Blanchett knows the women are here.” He looked grim. “This is where he’s going to focus all his firepower.”

The continuous buzzing sound was getting louder, and it finally struck Sarah what the sound was—snowmobiles. Her heart beat quickly in her chest, and she tried to slow her breathing. Hyperventilating wouldn’t help anyone.

“Otto.” Blessard closed his fingers around Sarah’s arm and tugged. “Go!” Xena gave a low growl, and Sarah looked at Otto. Blessard was his lieutenant, not hers. She trusted Otto, and she’d only take commands from him.

“They’re too close.” Otto grabbed her hand, pulling her arm out of Blessard’s grip, and sprinted through the snow toward the workshop. Sarah, with Xena right behind her, ran with him, but the snow was deep enough to make each step a huge effort. It was a familiar nightmare—trying to sprint away from danger but only managing a slog.

“Do you think they’ll find the bunker?” Sarah asked, her voice as soft as she could make it. Her words still sounded too loud.

“It’s hidden well,” Otto said, although Sarah noticed that wasn’t exactly a no.

“What if I lead them away?” Her voice shook, but she still forced out the words. Aaron was her monster. She’d brought him to this wonderful little town that had been nothing but kind to her. It was her responsibility to deal with the army he’d brought to Monroe.

“No.” It was a growl more than a word.

The workshop was getting closer, but they were taking too long. Biting back a sound of fear, Sarah continued fighting through the snow. Even if they couldn’t reach the building, they could hide in the trees scattered around. Anything would be better than this full exposure, their dark forms standing out starkly against the white ground, with no camouflage in sight.

There was a low grunt behind them, and Sarah turned her head just in time to see Blessard trip and fall, his body hitting the snow full-length from his face to his toes.

“Keep heading to those trees,” Otto commanded as he released her, rushing back to help the lieutenant to his feet. As he stood, Blessard gave a pained yelp, his body sagging sideways.

“I did something to my ankle.” His words ended in a groan as his right side collapsed again, almost dragging Otto to the ground. Sarah moved to Blessard’s right and pulled his arm around her shoulders.

“Sarah.” Otto’s glance was filled with worry—but also admiration. “Run. I’ll help him.”

“We’ll both help him.” It was harder than she expected. Every step was difficult. Every move from Blessard threatened to bring him down—and her with him. She wondered if he had a concussion as well, because his balance seemed to be affected. If the earlier run had seemed nightmarish, this was even worse. Their progress changed from feet to inches, and the buzzing was getting ever louder. The snowmobiles would be on them at any second, and they were still a good distance from the cover of the trees. Otto turned so he was facing them.

“Let go,” Otto said, and Sarah obeyed automatically, releasing Blessard’s arm. Before the lieutenant could crumple to the ground, Otto hoisted him up over his shoulder. “Run.”

She ran. Without Blessard’s weight pulling her off-balance, she felt like she was flying, even despite the deep drifts. Several single headlights appeared over the ridge, reflecting off the snow until an entire army appeared about to run them down. With a final blast of effort, Sarah dove for cover behind a short, bushy pine tree growing crookedly next to the barn. Xena quickly huddled next to her, and Otto carefully moved Blessard off his shoulder, settling him on the snowy ground.

They crouched behind the tree, peering through the prickly branches at the cluster of five snowmobiles in the yard. Sarah counted eight people dressed in winter camouflage before the engines were turned off and the lights extinguished.

It took a few moments for Sarah’s night vision to kick in after the glare of those headlights. As she blinked frantically in the full darkness, she closed her fist on Otto’s coat. Shapes slowly came back into focus, and the night wasn’t completely black anymore.

“What? Wa’s going on?” The lieutenant’s voice was slurred and much, much too loud. Otto quickly clapped a hand over Blessard’s mouth and met Sarah’s worried gaze. The lieutenant definitely had a head injury. Sarah fought down panic. Everything was going wrong.

Otto looked away, peering through the tree branches, and Sarah followed his gaze. A pair of mercenaries, rifles slung across their backs, headed their way. Sarah stiffened, pulling out her knife and unfolding it, keeping it carefully pointed away from Otto and Blessard. She was terrified of doing something stupid like losing her balance and accidentally stabbing one of them.

To her surprise, Otto put his gun away. Sarah was tempted to poke him and ask him what the freak he thought he was doing, but she didn’t want to distract him. The pair of mercenaries plowed through the snow, heading right toward their pine tree. Sarah was terrified that they had been spotted, but she tried to reassure her panicky brain that Aaron’s goons would’ve already been shooting if that had been the case.

“Gunnersen?” Blessard groaned, the word muffled by Otto’s hand. Sarah felt her heart rate kick up even more, and she squeezed the rigid knife handle until it bit through her gloves and into her fingers.

The first guy was about six feet ahead of the other, and he was closing in rapidly. Sarah shivered as he drew nearer, putting a reassuring hand on Xena’s head when the dog started panting nervously. She kept glancing at Otto, waiting for him to draw his gun again, but he didn’t reach for the weapon.

Instead, Otto moved his hand off Blessard’s mouth and did something with his hands in the snow. It wasn’t until he launched the snowball that Sarah figured out what he was doing. It hit the trunk of an aspen tree twenty feet away with a dull thud.

Both mercenaries twisted around toward the sound. Otto lunged, grabbing the closer man and pulling him back behind the tree, an arm locked around his neck. Otto did something so fast that Sarah couldn’t see, and then the man was lying in the snow next to her, his eyes fixed in a startled expression.

It was Jeb. Sarah couldn’t look away from his distant stare. She’d spent years in his unwanted company, and now he was dead.

“Jeb?” A male voice yanked her out of her horrified daze. It was the second guy who’d called, she realized. He must’ve discovered that his buddy was gone. Jeb. He must’ve realized that Jeb was gone. The mercenary ran toward their hiding space, his rifle off his back and in his hands, but Otto still didn’t pull his gun.

As the man got close, Otto charged, knocking the barrel of his rifle up and driving him back. The guy tripped, landing on his back in the snow, Otto on top of him. In just seconds, that man lay as still as Jeb.

“Nice work,” Blessard said, his words sounding clearer but still too loud.

Otto gave him a sharp glance, his finger to his lips in the universal sign for quiet.

“Leave me and Sarah here,” Blessard said, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. He seemed much more coherent than earlier, and Sarah hoped he’d stay that way. His concussed ranting had almost gotten them killed. “We need backup. If you can’t reach Theo and Hugh in time, get to the people in the bunker. The others might not be trained fighters, but at least they can help—the adults, at least. I’m sure Gordon has an arsenal in there. Get people, get weapons, and then get your ass back here. Take the dog. You’ve been training her, right? Guess this’ll be a trial by fire.”

Otto stared at him. “I’m not leaving either of you.”

“Otto.”

“No.”

“This is an order.” Blessard’s voice had a hard snap to it that made Sarah flinch, but Otto’s even gaze didn’t waver.

“I’m not leaving either of you.”

A shout in the distance made all of them snap their heads around so they could peer through the branches. The lieutenant was suddenly on his feet, his gun drawn and pointed right at her. Sarah stared, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. Blessard was a cop, one of the good guys. She knew how to recognize evil in people—at least, she thought she could, but the lieutenant’s betrayal shocked her to the core. What was happening?

“Don’t move.” Blessard backed up several steps, his movements smooth, while still keeping the pistol aimed at Sarah. The twisted ankle, the concussion—he’d faked everything. A small sound escaped before she could swallow it back, and Otto shifted toward her. “Don’t move, or I will shoot her.”

“Why are you doing this?” Otto sounded as if he’d been punched in the stomach.

“We’re not equipped to fight these people,” the lieutenant said. He seemed weary, but there was a thread of steel in his words. Somehow, Sarah knew they weren’t going to be able to talk him out of this. “It’s Monroe in the winter. We’re barely equipped to handle a license-plate theft. The Blanchetts’ and the Jovanovics’ battle isn’t with us. If we give them the two women, they’ll leave. If we don’t, they’ll destroy the whole town.”

“We can beat them.” Otto’s voice was rough, urgent, and his gaze flicked back and forth between Sarah and his lieutenant. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Yes, I do.” The lines on Blessard’s face deepened, and his mouth pulled down in a tense frown. “This isn’t one person with a few hired guns. This is the Blanchetts and the Jovanovics. It’s an army. If they fail tonight, they’ll keep coming. Monroe will be besieged until these women are back in their custody or nothing is left of Monroe. This is my town. I’ll do what I need to in order to save it. Sarah, come here.”

“Don’t do this, Lieutenant,” Otto growled.

Blessard’s jaw muscles tightened, but he didn’t look away from Sarah. “I don’t think your brother would care if I put a hole in you first, as long as it wasn’t anywhere too life-threatening. Be smart and listen. Come here.”

Her vision narrowed until all she could see was the gun he was holding. Her body wasn’t trembling anymore—at least, she couldn’t feel it. Sarah wondered if she’d gotten so scared that something had snapped in her head, because she was simply numb. She rose from her crouch, almost falling when Xena pressed against her legs.

“Not the dog,” Blessard ordered. “Either the dog stays with Otto, or I shoot it.”

Sarah’s frantic gaze found Otto, and he reached out to catch Xena’s collar. His expression was terrifying. She’d never seen him look so coldly furious. Whining softly, Xena strained against his hold, trying to get closer to Sarah.

“Sarah, move this way.” Blessard continued to walk slowly backward, and Sarah took a step toward him and then another. Her mind spun as she tried to think of a plan, a way out of this. A tiny part of her wondered if the lieutenant was right. Was she worth it? If the town was saved from annihilation, wasn’t that worth the loss of her freedom?

Then, she remembered Grace.

The Jovanovics wanted to kill Grace. If Blessard got his way, Grace wouldn’t just be trapped in a marriage with nasty Logan Jovanovic. Grace would be dead. Even if Sarah had been willing to give herself up to save the town, she wasn’t about to sacrifice Grace. She took a step closer to Blessard.

Think! She needed a plan, but her thoughts were slipping past so quickly she couldn’t grab on to any of them.

Slowly, they moved away from Otto and closer to where the snowmobiles were parked. Sarah felt horribly exposed out in the open, and she braced herself, expecting a fist or a bullet to hit her at any second. The lieutenant’s face tightened with displeasure as he took quick glances around, never looking away long enough to give her a chance to run.

Suddenly, he raised the gun in the air and fired, the explosive crack ringing through the night. The moment the gun was no longer aimed at her, it felt as if a rope holding her back had snapped. Without hesitating, she lunged forward, slamming against the lieutenant’s chest and taking both of them to the ground.

Blessard let out a grunt as she landed on top of him, but he quickly recovered, rolling them over so that Sarah was on the bottom. Terror surged through her as he loomed over her, his body pressing her into the snow. She struggled, but he held her down, his teeth bared with determination.

His expression blanked, and his eyes went wide and then sagged closed. As his head dropped forward, he went limp, flattening her and pushing her even more deeply into the snowdrift. Panic filled her as snow toppled over her face and his suffocating weight made it hard to breathe.

Then he was gone, and she was being hauled out of the snow and into Otto’s arms.

“Is he dead?” she asked, her voice shaking as she clutched handfuls of his coat.

“No. Just unconscious.” He moved her away from him. “We need to hurry. He fired that shot to call your brother’s men here.”

The reality of their situation crashed down on her again, and her body sagged. Otto caught her before she toppled back in the snow, but she pulled out of his hold. There wasn’t time for her to have a freak-out. She needed to move.

Sarah’s legs began to work again, and she ran next to Otto, Xena following closely behind her. Yanking his radio off his belt, Otto hurled it to the side. Sarah was baffled for a moment until it hit her—Blessard must have been using it to track them. Somehow, he’d led Aaron’s army right to them. It felt wrong to stay out in the open, rather than sprinting for the cover of the trees, but she trusted Otto. He’d get them out of this. As they ran across the open area toward the snowmobiles, the snow grabbed at Sarah’s boots, trying to slow her down. Blessard’s gunshot must’ve succeeded in alerting the other mercenaries, since all six were running toward Otto and Sarah. Otto straddled one of the snowmobiles and started the engine, and Sarah jumped on behind him. She turned toward Xena, but she just backed away from the sled, cowering.

Jumping off, Otto grabbed the dog, scooping her up as if she weighed eight pounds rather than eighty. As he turned toward the snowmobile again, Sarah moved up closer to the front, grabbing the handlebars. She’d never ridden a snowmobile, and panic filled her brain, shrieking that she couldn’t do this. Forcing herself to shove back the terror, she looked down at the controls. She was smart. She could figure it out. She had to figure it out, or she and Otto and Xena were dead.

There were no pedals at her feet, so she assumed the accelerator and brake were by her hands. As soon as she felt Otto’s—and Xena’s—weight drop onto the seat behind her, she pushed the lever under her right thumb and the snowmobile jumped ahead. Startled, she released it, and the sled slowed abruptly, jerking her forward.

Sarah pressed it again, prepared this time as it shot forward. It accelerated quickly, and everything blurred as cold air hit her unprotected eyes. The snowmobile’s runners skipped over the uneven drifts, bouncing its passengers, and Sarah had to force herself not to slow down. Even though she felt completely terrified and out of control, this wasn’t the time to take it slow.

She could hear a popping sound over the engine, and her worst fears were confirmed when Otto shouted, “Zigzag! They’re shooting!”

Sarah tried, turning the handlebars and leaning first left and then right and then left again. They flew up a small hill, twisting from side to side. As they crested it, Otto shouted.

“Trap!”

She instinctively turned, just as the runner snagged on the edge of a tarp lying on the ground, hidden and all but buried beneath snow, pulling it askew and revealing a deep pit in front of them. Hauling on the right handlebar, Sarah leaned as much as she could into the turn as the left runner slid out over empty space that had been hidden by the tarp. Her brain was screaming with horror as she pulled on the right grip with all her might, terrified that she’d eluded Aaron’s thugs just to drop the three of them into an enormous hole in the ground. Snow sprayed in an arc as the snowmobile banked. The left skid caught the ground at the edge of the hole, and they shot forward onto solid ground.

Sarah dragged in a desperate breath as she accelerated, flying away from the hole that had nearly killed them. “What was that?” she yelled, almost dizzy with relief and terror at what had almost happened.

“Booby trap! Gordon has them everywhere on the property!” Otto shouted back, and Sarah mentally and thoroughly cursed Gordon’s intense paranoia. There was no time to slow down and recover, even though her whole body trembled from the close call. Aaron’s goons were still chasing them—and shooting. She began her zigzag pattern again, twisting back and forth until the boundary fence came into view. She slowed, uncertain.

“Ram it!” Otto yelled right by her ear, and she jammed her thumb down on the gas. The sled shot forward, unexpectedly fast, and Sarah was tossed back into Xena. The dog gave a small yelp.

“Sorry!” Sarah shouted, all her focus on trying to steer, to keep the powerful machine under control. She stared at the gate as it got closer, terrified to drive into it but determined to get away. Hunching lower, she pressed down so hard on the accelerator that her hand shook with tension.

Something was wrong, though. Instead of speeding up, the sled started to slow, the engine making a rough skip every few seconds until it sputtered and cut out.

“No!” Sarah pushed on the gas, but it was no use. The snowmobile was dead, only inertia keeping them skidding across the snow. Gradually, they slowed until they were barely moving at all.

“Switch!” Otto ordered, and Sarah automatically obeyed, swinging off and then on again behind Xena, locking her arms around the trembling dog before Xena could even think about jumping off. Sarah looked behind them, seeing the bobbing lights as the other snowmobiles grew closer. She clutched Xena more tightly, burying her face in the dog’s hard shoulder as Otto tried to restart the engine.

There was nothing, just empty clicks.

“Let’s go,” he said, swinging off and helping her dismount at the same time. Xena jumped into the snow behind them. Grabbing hands, they ran toward the fence. What had seemed so close when they were speeding toward it now looked painfully far away. The snow was even deeper here, swallowing Sarah’s boots and making each step pull at her sore quads. The nightmarish feeling returned. She was running as fast as she could, but it was still too slow.

The snowmobiles were loud now, buzzing like a swarm of bees, the lights so close and bright that they lit up the boundary fence. It was like a glowing target, one that Sarah knew she would never reach in time.

“Go!” she shouted at Otto, trying to pull her hand free. “Don’t wait for me! Take Xena and go!”

He didn’t respond, just hung grimly on to her hand, hauling her after him. Instead of continuing toward the fence, though, he turned left. Sarah didn’t know why, but she hoped desperately that it was part of some genius plan that would save them. She glanced over her shoulder. The sleds were almost on top of them. A small part of her terror-filled mind wondered why they weren’t shooting anymore. The mercenaries must’ve had a great shot by now.

Otto abruptly stopped and turned, pushing Sarah behind him. He drew his gun, crouching down and aiming. Sarah reached in her pocket, pulling out her knife and opening it. This was it, she knew. Their last stand. She hoped that Aaron would call off his men and free the town once she and Otto were killed. At least then some good would come out of their deaths. Her free hand clenched in Otto’s coat again. She didn’t want to die, and she really, really didn’t want Otto to die.

Two of the snowmobiles circled around them, swinging to the left and right. She turned, keeping her back to Otto’s, so she could watch them. The engines were still too loud to hear anything, but she could see that all three—two men on one sled and a woman on the other—were laughing, mocking her and Otto’s desperate attempt to flee.

The sleds continued around, about to pass each other, when they both disappeared. There was a deafening crash, and Sarah realized that they’d fallen into one of Gordon’s booby traps. A mix of horror and sheer relief poured through her.

She turned just as Otto fired, the hot casing flying back and catching in her coat collar, burning her neck. She brushed it away, barely feeling the pain, as one of the other snowmobile riders slumped over.

The rider toppled into the snow, and the empty sled careened toward them. It was no longer accelerating, but the smooth runners slipped across the fresh snow with nothing to slow the snowmobile down. Sarah scrambled to get out of the path, but it was traveling too fast—it was going to hit them.

Otto gave her and Xena a hard shove, sending them rolling through the snow until they sank partway into a deep drift—seconds before the snowmobile flew by. It raced past, one runner just inches from her face.

Otto wasn’t so lucky. The corner clipped him, sending him spinning.

“Otto!” Sarah screamed as he toppled into the snow. She fought to regain her feet, feeling like she was swimming through the drift. The snow was dry and fine, refusing to let her go. Instead, it swallowed her hands as she tried to push to her feet. It felt like even the snow was on Aaron’s side.

Fear for Otto gave her strength, and she heaved her body forward, lurching out of the drift. Sobs caught in her throat as she fought her way through the snow toward Otto’s fallen body. When she finally reached him, he was lying facedown, snow drifting to cover the back of his head. She tried to roll him over, but just succeeded in making his huge form sink deeper, so she turned his head to the side, brushing away the flakes.

He blinked, looking dazed. Blood streamed from a jagged red gash along his hairline.

“Get up, get up, get up,” she chanted through chattering teeth, shoving the snow away from his face.

“What?” he mumbled, his eyes hazy and unfocused.

The roar of another engine closing in on her made Sarah look up. The last snowmobile stopped ten feet from them in a spray of snow. The driver grinned, and Sarah’s breath caught in terror—it was Logan. She’d thought that leaving Texas meant escaping him as well as Aaron, but she was beginning to think that she would never be free of either of them. They were determined to ruin her newfound happiness.

The man riding behind him stood on the seat, dragging her attention away from Logan’s mocking face. She jerked back as he raised his rifle.

Otto’s gun! she thought, frantically hunting around them for the pistol. She couldn’t find it, and she realized she’d dropped her knife at some point. She dug in Otto’s coat pocket, her hand closing around cold metal.

Thank God!

Pulling it out, her heart sank when she saw it was his multi-tool. There was probably a blade, but she didn’t have time to pull out all the implements to find it. She threw the tool at the two men on the snowmobile. It flew over their heads harmlessly, but they both ducked, giving Sarah an extra few seconds. She reached into Otto’s pocket again, and this time she pulled out a knife.

Logan laughed at her—cruel, sneering laughter. “Thought you got away, didn’t you? Poor little Alice.”

Opening the knife with trembling fingers, she plowed through the snow toward the two men.

Logan’s voice went from mocking to cold in an instant. “Enough of this. Kill her.”

The man standing behind Logan aimed his rifle. Her whole body shook, but she kept plowing forward. With each step, she sank in over her knees, but she continued her charge, bracing for the impact of a bullet ripping through her. At least it would give Otto a few more seconds to recover. If he survived, that was all that mattered.

There was a roar behind her, and the amusement disappeared from the men’s faces. Xena was a blur as she raced toward the mercenaries, and the one holding the rifle shifted his aim to the dog.

“No!” Sarah yelled. There was nothing she could do, no way to reach the gunman in time before he could squeeze the trigger. Gripping the blade of the knife, she cocked back and threw it as hard as she could. The knife flew through the air, end over end, and sank deep into the side of the gunman’s neck. He screamed, dropping the gun as his hands reached for the knife, scrabbling to pull out the blade. Blood poured from the wound, and Sarah couldn’t look away, not until the man toppled off the seat and fell into the snow, where he lay unmoving.

“You’re still dead, bitch,” Logan snarled, lunging for the fallen rifle. As he stood, swinging the barrel toward Sarah, Xena hit him square in the chest. With a shout, he fell onto his back in the snow. Xena stood on top of him, snarling in his face. His gaze locked with the dog’s as he slowly raised the rifle he still gripped in his right hand.

Sarah felt rage building in her chest, expanding until it was almost impossible to breathe. It was one thing for Logan to terrorize her, but she was not going to allow him to hurt Otto or Xena. With a wordless yell, she charged. Grabbing the rifle with both hands, she pushed it down, using her body weight to pin his arm—and the gun—to the snowy ground. Logan cursed, and Xena growled, snapping at his face with her teeth bared.

Lifting the gun, Sarah slammed it down again, over and over as Logan swore and screamed until his fingers finally loosened. She yanked the rifle out of his grip, slightly startled when it came free. Stumbling back a step, she quickly regained her balance and raised the butt of the rifle to her shoulder. She’d never held one before, and it felt strange in her grip, too long and bulky.

Logan gave her a grin that was mostly a snarl. “You going to shoot me, princess?” He spat out the last word. “You don’t have the balls.”

Her whole body trembled so severely that she knew he could see her shake, and she hated that he knew she was terrified. Her finger found the trigger guard and slipped inside.

“Put the gun down,” he snapped, and she jerked back, startled by the loud command. Xena growled and barked sharply in his face, but he didn’t look away from Sarah. His smirk was tense. “It won’t work anyway. The safety’s on.”

Her gaze flickered down at the gun, just for a fraction of a second before she caught herself falling for Logan’s bluff. It was long enough, though. He struck, wrapping his hands around Xena’s thick neck and rolling them to the side.

“No!” Sarah shouted, knowing he would kill Xena without any remorse. The dog yelped, and Sarah felt a calm settle over her. Her hands stopped shaking; she knew what she needed to do. Aiming the gun at the back of Logan’s head, she pulled the trigger.

The recoil jolted her, but it was the realization of what she’d just done that made her stumble back. The smell of smoke filled her nose, and her ears rang from the loud bang. She forced herself to look at Logan. She needed to know if she’d missed, if he was still a threat.

Instantly, she looked away. He wasn’t a threat anymore.

Xena scrambled to her feet and ran to her, pressing her trembling body against Sarah’s legs. Carefully, Sarah lowered the gun, placing it next to her on top of a drift. The rifle sank and the snow sifted on top of it, making it almost seem like it had disappeared.

“What?” At Otto’s voice, Sarah looked behind her to see him struggling to sit up. She fought her way through the snow toward him, pausing briefly to turn off the snowmobile. Silence settled over them, broken only by her rough breathing. She tried to calm down as she reached Otto. Her heaving breaths were too close to sobs, and this wasn’t the time to cry.

“Otto?” Crouching next to him, she saw how much blood streaked the side of his face, and her stomach lurched.

“What’s…?” he slurred, blinking at her like he was having trouble focusing.

Sarah fought down panic. How could she get an injured Otto back to the bunker? She pushed the thought away. One thing at a time, she thought, trying to remember the little she’d read about first aid. First, stop the bleeding.

It was a relief to have something to focus on, to have a plan, no matter how basic. Gently holding his face, she tilted it so that she could see the cut more clearly. In the dim light, the blood looked black, and it seemed like it was everywhere. She swiped at the area below the cut with her glove, but the material wasn’t absorbent, so it just smeared blood across his forehead.

She took a mental inventory of what she was wearing, trying to figure out what would work best for bandaging, and plopped down in the snow. As she yanked off one of her boots, Otto stared at her, swaying a little.

“Wha…what are you doing?” He sounded a little less drunk, although Sarah knew that could’ve just been wishful thinking on her part. She pulled off one of her knee-high wool socks and held it up.

“Bandage,” she said, tugging her boot back on. Just in that short time she’d had it off, the cold had darted through her remaining sock and chilled her foot.

“Bandage?” He frowned. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s for you.” Her voice shook slightly as she reached to wrap the sock around his head and tie it tightly in the back. It covered most of the still-oozing gash, and she hoped it would at least slow the bleeding until they could get back to the bunker where someone a lot more competent than she was could look at it. “Sorry. It’s probably not the most sanitary.”

He smiled and gave her forearm a squeeze. “It’s fine. Help me up?”

With Sarah’s assistance, he managed to haul himself to his feet. Once there, he swayed slightly, and she held her hands out as if to catch him. His jaw muscles tightening, he managed to steady himself. Although he still looked dazed, his eyes gradually cleared, and he seemed to take in the situation without needing an explanation. He looked furious and grim and sad, but all he said was a simple “Good job, Sarah.”

She blinked at him, shock and residual horror making everything hazy. “Thank you?” Relief that Otto was awake and standing—that she was alive and that Xena was unhurt—rushed through her, making her voice break.

Otto cupped her face in his hands and looked at her carefully. “You okay?”

It took her a moment to answer. “Yes. You’re okay, and Xena’s okay. That means I’m okay.” When he continued to eye her, she covered his hands with her own. “I mean it, Otto. I did what I needed to do. It’s done.”

After another long look, he seemed to accept that. “Let’s go.” Otto’s hand on her back was gentle. Sarah leaned into the contact, and Xena pressed into her side. She’d seen and done some terrible things over the past twelve hours, but Otto and Xena were worth it. For them, she’d do anything.