“They’re Feds. We kill ’em and we got all kinds of trouble,” Redjacket muttered, shaking his head indecisively.
“We can’t just let ’em waltz off the mountain, neither,” Swizzlestick argued, his narrow, pointy nose twitching, making him look like a fuzzy shrew.
Redjacket scowled mightily, and then he advanced on Deuce, grabbing him by the coat and yanking him forward. Deuce had no choice but to grab hold of the man to keep his balance. “What’s a gimp like you doing up on this mountain? You’re no FBI man,” he snarled.
“You’re right,” Deuce said evenly.
Zane admired how calm Deuce was in the face of such obvious danger, but when Redjacket went to shake him again, Zane barked, “Leave him alone!”
The man pushed Deuce away roughly, causing him to stumble and fall onto the hard-packed dirt. Redjacket turned on Zane and threw a punch that snapped Zane’s jaw to the side and caused him to stagger back into the shotgun. Zane regained his balance and turned on the man with a snarl, only to have Swizzlestick jab the shotgun in his back warningly. Zane glared at them both mutinously, but he kept his hands laced behind his head as the man with the swizzle stick hanging out of the corner of his mouth sidestepped around him and moved to stand next to Redjacket.
“Keep your damn mouth shut,” Redjacket ordered as he poked Zane in the chest. “You’re in our mountains now.”
“We’re not here looking for you,” Zane grated out. “We’re on a f**king vacation.”
“I wanted to go to Cabo,” Deuce muttered from his place on the ground.
Redjacket laughed loudly. “Shoulda listened to your boyfriend,” he told Zane as he kicked at Deuce.
Zane’s body jerked as he resisted the instinct to help. Swizzlestick stepped forward and poked Zane in the chest with the barrel of the shotgun. Zane swore right then and there that he would take that shotgun away from him and beat him with it. After the past week, his temper was seriously frayed.
“I don’t give a good goddamn who the hell you are or why you’re here,” Redjacket snarled at them. “You stumbled onto the wrong damn mountain.”
Zane could see Deuce’s eyes scanning the equipment around them. There was one folding card table set up nearby that held an array of dull coins, one broken candelabra, and several other unidentifiable pieces. Deuce looked at them with a confused shake of his head. “You’re actually looking for buried treasure?” he asked with ill-concealed disdain. “And blowing shit up all over the place to do it?” he added in growing anger.
“Can’t have anybody finding out, now can we? Got to protect our investments,” Earflaps sneered.
“How many people have you killed?” Zane asked furiously.
“Shut up,” Redjacket growled at him.
“—over a few pieces of broken—”
“I said shut up!” Redjacket shouted as he raised his hand, prepared to hit Zane again.
A noisy tumble of pebbles and dirt from the treeline to their right halted him, and Earflaps turned to aim his shotgun at the noise as Redjacket pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans. “Who’s out there?” he shouted as he pointed his gun at Zane’s face and squinted into the darkening woods. There was no response as every man in the clearing held his breath. Zane tried to turn his head just enough to peer into the forest, trying to see who or what it had been. He almost hoped it was some wild animal stalking them rather than Ty or Earl being careless. Swizzlestick pumped the action of his shotgun and pointed it at Deuce when the silence stretched further.
“Show yourself or both these men die right now,” Redjacket called out.
Another movement answered the threat, and Earl slid down the small hill of the treeline and into the clearing gracelessly, his hands held up and out over his head as he stumbled out.
Zane grimaced and exhaled heavily. Fuck. This was both good and bad. Bad because now Deuce and Earl were both here and in the line of fire. But good because Ty was still out there. And these idiots would have no way of knowing.
Redjacket began cursing as Earl showed himself, and he turned just slightly, his attention wavering from Zane as he ordered Earflaps to go search Earl.
In the space of a few seconds, Zane calculated his chances: all three men were turning away, Deuce was mostly out of the way, Earflaps had his shotgun in his arm rather than ready as he approached Earl, and Redjacket and Swizzlestick were both in easy grabbing distance. Without even consciously deciding, Zane moved, shoving Redjacket hard in the back to tip him over and then lurching to grapple with Swizzlestick for the shotgun. In the midst of the struggle, Zane was aware of three quick shots coming from the trees to their left; Ty offering covering fire from his hiding spot and giving away his presence. Zane laid Swizzlestick out with a hard hook, but as he turned to face Redjacket, pain exploded in his cheek as his world went bright white and flared out.
EARL was on his knees, his hands laced behind his neck and his head lowered. He cursed himself for his clumsiness. Twenty years ago, he’d never have made such a misstep. When he’d seen the gun pointed at Deuce’s head, he hadn’t even considered not showing himself. It would be up to Ty now if they were going to get out of this.
The skinny guy with the swizzle stick was complaining loudly about his jaw as Earflaps rolled Zane over roughly. Earl watched as Earflaps rifled through Zane’s pockets, looking for any sign that Zane might be conscious. The man was out, though, limp and unresponsive. He saw Earflaps pull out Zane’s gun, and after a little more searching, he yanked sharp-looking knives from sheaths that were strapped to Zane’s forearms. He watched Earflaps examine the knives before tossing them into a nearby sack. All this time, Earl hadn’t even known Zane was wearing the weapons.
His eyes flicked to the side, to the woods where Ty’s shots had originated. He knew Ty would be long gone, having simply disappeared into the forest after the treasure hunters regained control of the situation. He hadn’t made a sound as he’d gone, Earl had noted with a hint of pride. He hoped the boy was halfway to the nearest ranger station by now, like they should have been to start with. But he knew that Ty wouldn’t leave for help now. He’d stick around and probably get himself killed trying to save them. It was what Earl would have done. If these boys thought they had the upper hand, though, they were sadly mistaken. Ty was in his element up here.
“Fuck!” Redjacket shouted, the sound echoing through the clearing and off into the woods. “Where the f**k did they come from?” he shouted. “How many more’s out there?”