Hidden (Jacobs Family Series Book 1) Read online

  “What’s to keep you from shooting us?”

  “I could shoot you now, Reggie.”

  Ben kept his scope trained on the last place he’d seen Drogan, but the man remained behind the brick wall. It took all of his training not to glance at Reggie and Tafoya.

  “He wants us to get out of the truck,” Reggie relayed to the old man.

  “Let’s do this and go home.”

  Two doors opened, then slammed shut.

  Ben heard them walk forward. The spot between his shoulder blades began to itch, and he knew whatever Drogan had planned, it wasn’t going to end well for someone.

  “Can you still hear me, Reggie?”

  “Yeah, I hear you. Can’t believe there’s cell service out here.”

  “You’d be surprised what ghost towns have. Walk ten paces more toward the hotel.”

  Over the comm unit, Ben heard the sound of the two doing as they were told. The town was eerily quiet. Apparently, whoever ran the two buildings that were open for tourists didn’t bother staying over during evening hours. He couldn’t blame them. Elizabethtown wasn’t a very hospitable place.

  When the boy’s shuffling footsteps stopped, Drogan began speaking again. It took Ben a second to realize the sound was not coming through the cell phone and into the comm unit, but out of loudspeakers Drogan had set up around the crumbling relic of a building. The sound was so disturbingly like Ben’s dream of being on the ark that he jerked away from the rifle.

  When he looked back, Drogan still wasn’t in any of the windows.

  “Reggie, you’ve been a disappointment. You should have stood firm and been true to our agreement. For your failure, you must pay with your life.”

  “Ben, get them out of there.” Dana started the Chevy, revved the engine.

  Even as she did so, Ben jerked the rifle up and began to run.

  “Mr. Tafoya, your people received what my family did not—their land. In order to balance the accounts, you will pay with your life.”

  Ben climbed on top of the shed next to the E-town museum. The elevated position allowed him to see the entire site of the Mutz Hotel and the road passing through Elizabethtown.

  Tafoya had grabbed the boy and was pulling him out of the street toward the general store.

  Ben saw movement in the middle window. He didn’t hesitate. His first shot sent bricks flying. Before he could get a second round off, the museum behind him exploded. White hot pain shot through his left arm as he was knocked from the roof of the shed.

  He rolled on the ground, bits of gravel biting into the wound on his arm.

  His comm unit had been damaged in the explosion, but the sound of his truck coming up the road told him he didn’t have much time. Drogan would target Dana. It was his real goal—not Reggie and certainly not Tafoya. They were bonus points. By targeting them, he’d assured himself he would get a chance at her. Dana had long been his obsession.

  Ben clutched his left arm to his side, gripped the rifle with his right, and started toward the hotel. He had to get there before Dana came into view.

  Sixty-six

  Dana pushed Ben’s truck, deciding to cut through the field rather than barrel down Main Street.

  The explosion assured her she was headed in the right direction. Glancing at her open laptop, she saw Cheryl and her team were closing in from the north. They had him surrounded, if they could arrest him before he killed someone.

  As she gained the south side of town, a second explosion lit up the sky. The electromagnetic pulse caused her to slam on the brakes and jerk her head down. The pain to her ears was brief but excruciating. Her laptop went black at the exact moment the truck died.

  Grabbing the backup pack from behind the passenger seat, she ran from the truck. The town was completely dark except for the smoldering fire at the museum.

  Tafoya’s truck sat in the middle of the street, both doors wide open.

  Dana pulled her Glock with one hand and tapped her comm unit with the other. Nothing. Of course, the EMP had fried it as well.

  Seeing movement near the old church, she jerked up on her pistol.

  Tafoya stepped out of the shadows.

  “Reggie?”

  “He’s fine. Ben went toward the hotel.”

  Dana nodded. “Stay with the boy.”

  She knew how exposed she was as she ran, but there was nothing to hide behind. The town was, after all, a ghost town. Drogan had chosen well the scene for his final showdown.

  “Dana.” Ben motioned to her from the southwest side of the building, one of the few remaining corners.

  She flattened herself against the south side, while he covered the west. Which was why she didn’t immediately notice he was injured. It wasn’t until she turned to hear what he was saying that she saw the blood running down his arm.

  “You’re hurt. Let me look at it.”

  “We don’t have time. He’s not here. I’ve cleared this ruin, but he hasn’t left the area.”

  Her eyes sought his in the darkness. “How much blood have you lost?”

  “It’s a flesh wound, darlin’.” He motioned toward the smoldering building. “You can look at it when we have him handcuffed. Where’s Tafoya and Reggie?”

  “Old Church.”

  “How do you want to handle this, boss?”

  “Let’s go back to the churchyard. Tafoya has a gun. With three of us, we have a better chance of fighting him.”

  “How close were the other teams when the EMP hit?”

  “Three, maybe four miles.”

  “All right.” Ben nodded toward the street. “You’re first, sweetheart. I’ll cover you.”

  Sixty-seven

  Their journey to the church was quiet—too quiet in Dana’s opinion.

  “Where is he?” she whispered as they crept down the side of the old building.

  “He’s close. The EMP fried his way out of here too.”

  They’d reached the end of the building. “On three,” he mouthed. “One, two…”

  He and Dana charged around the corner of the building at the same moment and found themselves facing the muzzle of a gun.

  “Tafoya.” Ben moved back a step. “Nice to see you.”

  Tafoya grunted and relaxed his grip on the weapon.

  Dana peered past him. “Is Reggie—”

  “I’m fine.” The boy walked out of the darkness.

  As he moved into their circle, Dana noticed he was holding a small pistol. She looked from it to Tafoya and started to protest, but he stopped her.

  “I have been working with him. We knew this could happen, and he needs to be able to protect himself.”

  Dana realized he was right, but she still didn’t like it. The thought of the boy waiting unarmed, with Drogan still loose, kept her from arguing.

  “Dude, you are completely messed up.” Reggie stared at the blood dripping down Ben’s shirt in fascination.

  Dana’s heart lurched at the reminder. She dropped her pack and pulled out the emergency med kit. Knowing he wouldn’t let her take time to clean the wound, she pulled out the materials to apply a compress and slow the bleeding.

  “Is it a bullet?” she asked him.

  Ben shook his head. “I was too close to the explosion. Something hit me.” He turned to Tafoya and Reggie while she selected the roll of gauze and began to wrap his arm. “Any idea which way he went?”

  “No. I saw him come up with the weapon. Reggie and I hit the ditch—”

  “You yanked me into the ditch,” Reggie corrected. “You totally saved me.”

  Tafoya blinked once, then continued. “Seconds later you fired a round.”

  “Only hit brick,” Ben muttered, sucking in his breath as Dana tightened the end of the bandage.

  “Next thing we knew there was the flare in the sky and the high-pitched sound.” Tafoya pointed to the sky as he spoke.

  “What was that?” Reggie asked. “It was worse than my math teacher’s scream when we all failed her unit tests.” />
  “Flex your arm, Ben. I want to be sure it’s not going to bleed through.” When he started to argue, she moved closer in the darkness. “Do it.”

  He bent his arm at the elbow two, then three times. She couldn’t see any bleeding through the compress, but she knew it wouldn’t hold for long. “We need to clean this wound soon, or it will become infected.”

  “Later.” He turned to Reggie. “The flare was an electromagnetic pulse. It fries anything with a circuit board.”

  “Like with a nuclear bomb.” Tafoya ran his hand down his long braid.

  “Exactly, only we’ve advanced the technology. Now you can deliver an EMP from the ground up and without the messiness of a bomb—an EMP flare.”

  “What’s the point?” Reggie asked.

  “No communication and no way out.” Dana sank back against the plank boards of the building.

  Reggie looked down at the cell phone in his hand.

  “The circuit board is fried, kid. Just like the starters in our trucks.” Ben turned to Dana. “What about your laptop?”

  She shook her head. “I left it open on the seat.”

  “How could a laptop survive an EMP thing?” Reggie asked.

  “Government laptops are ruggedized—built with a special case to withstand an EMP, but I left mine open on the seat.” Dana rubbed her forehead. If she had closed it, they could contact someone.

  Tafoya placed a hand on her shoulder. “You remembered the most important things—to grab the pack, to get to us. The rest will take care of itself.”

  “Tafoya’s right,” Ben agreed. “We have two more units coming from the north, plus Clay’s men on foot.”

  “And Red’s unit from the south, but they have no way to contact each other.” Dana looked at the three faces peering at her. “How will they communicate?”

  Ben shrugged. “The old-fashioned way—instinct and common sense. They’ll rally here. Tafoya, you know the most about this area. What would Drogan’s plan be? He obviously hoped to kill you and Reggie.”

  Reggie threw his hands up in an I-don’t-know gesture, then checked the paddle holster where he’d stowed the pistol.

  “Drogan knew his own vehicle would be disabled at the same time ours was,” Ben said, pacing the short area behind the building.

  “He’s back at the truck, looking for me.” Dana’s eyes widened. “He said he’d started another mosaic, which means he had plans for me. He knew we’d all be following. The EMP was to disable everyone in their positions.”

  “And once he’d killed us—” Reggie grimaced as he spat out the word.

  “And blew me up,” Ben added.

  “Then he’d come after me, because my vehicle would be disabled.” Dana stood up. “It makes sense, but what was the rest of his plan? Something tells me he wouldn’t have been happy to shoot me. You saw those pictures, Ben. This guy wanted to make it last. So how would he get us out? Can you shield a vehicle from an EMP?”

  “Not that I know of.” Ben shifted his rifle to his left hand, ran his right through his hair. “They were experimenting with things in the military, but hadn’t come up with anything foolproof. Think about the cover on the laptop. What could you create to cover an engine block? It would need to be huge and heavy. There’s nothing around here that size.”

  “Perhaps the answer is less rather than more complicated,” Tafoya said. “Perhaps he planned to use horses.”

  Dana and Ben stared at each other, then began shouldering their packs. “Where are they?”

  “Behind the cemetery. There’s an old stable. They keep some animals there for a trail ride. Tourists can rent them.”

  “Stay here and wait for the other teams. Tell them we went after him.” Dana paused, then walked back to Reggie. “Thank you.”

  She wanted to touch his face, embrace him like she would a child. Instead, she held out her hand. He shook it awkwardly. “After college, if you’re interested in a career with Homeland Security—”

  “I’ll give you a call.” His smile shone, even in the darkness.

  She turned and looked at Reggie and Tafoya one last time. The boy stood close to the man. The two could have passed as father and son. It might have been the light or the way they both looked so resolute. It was an image she would hold in her mind through the long night ahead. It might have been the first time the word “father” brought her comfort instead of pain.

  Sixty-eight

  Ben found the old stable behind the cemetery just as Tafoya had said. The corral gate was open, and all of the horses were gone, except for one.

  A lone pinto stood at the fence, its lead rope wrapped around the railing.

  “It’s like he wants us to follow him,” Dana whispered.

  Dana checked for tracks while Ben saddled the animal. In five minutes, he was ready to go. “Looks like we’re riding double.”

  She climbed on behind him. “The majority of the tracks lead north across the hills. One set goes south toward your truck.”

  Ben had fastened his pack on behind their saddle. His rifle rested across the front of the saddle horn. He held the reins in his left hand. His right hand rested lightly on the rifle.

  “Have you ridden before?” He let the mare adjust to the feel of their weight in the darkness.

  “Twice, when I was a girl.”

  “Hold on to me with your left. I want you to be able to shoot with your right.”

  “I can shoot with both,” she reminded him.

  “So can I, but my left is going to be slower with this bandage. A second can make all the difference, and he already has too many advantages tonight.” He wished he could turn and look at her. “Dana?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s going to be okay.”

  “I know. You told me before you got shot.”

  “I didn’t get shot.”

  She waved her hand, indicating he should go.

  Ben smiled at her impatience. It was a good sign. Better that she be angry at him than frightened. He had a feeling there would be plenty of time for both emotions in the next few hours.

  He urged the pinto into a trot, staying on the grass to muffle her hoof beats. The new moon gave them the barest of light to travel by. It was enough—too much really. The pinto’s white coloring would stand out in the light. He knew it wasn’t an accident Drogan had left this particular horse.

  He patted the mare’s neck and murmured softly to her. She was a gift, no matter her coloring or what hand had left her tied in the corral.

  He slowed when he saw his truck in the distance. Handing her the reins, he slid out of the saddle. “Stay here,” he whispered. “Keep her in the open, where he can’t sneak up on you.”

  “I’m an easy target here,” she hissed at him.

  He reached up and touched her arm. “He can’t see you. I can barely see you. His night goggles were disabled like everything else. I’ll be right back.”

  He melted into the night, carrying nothing but his rifle. Reality slipped away, and he couldn’t have said where he was. There was only the hunter and the hunted.

  He reconned the truck in under two minutes and was back at her side.

  “He’s been there.”

  “And?”

  Reining the mare in, he turned back the way they had come. “And he’s gone.”

  They rode back toward the cemetery in silence.

  When the old tombstones came into view, Dana asked the question he’d been stumbling against. “Why did he leave the one horse?”

  “He wanted someone to follow him.”

  “Whoever survived.”

  “Right.”

  “So he wants a last stand.”

  “Yeah.” Ben felt tired. What if they’d guessed wrong? What if Drogan’s primary target was the boy? He could have already circled back. Perhaps they should return to the church, join up with Tafoya and Reggie, and wait for the others.

  He was about to suggest as much to Dana when he saw a shadow, darker than the rest, move
through the trees at the far end of the cemetery.

  “Did you see that?

  “I didn’t see anything.” Dana leaned in against him. “Which direction?”

  “There, past the angel.”

  “Angel?”

  “The statue.” He stilled the mare, but for the space of a few seconds the distinct sound of clopping continued. Dana released her grip on his stomach. He felt her lean right, raise her Glock, and aim with both hands.

  The shadow moved again, and she fired as their horse reared, throwing her off.

  Ben tightened his hold on the reins, moving the pinto away so she wouldn’t step on Dana. The sound of galloping echoed through the night.

  Dana was screaming, “Hold still. I need to get back on.”

  “Easy girl. It’s okay. Shh. Easy.”

  “What do you mean it’s okay?” Dana continued to prance around, trying to find a way to get back on the horse. “Hold still. It’s not okay.”

  “I’m talking to the horse, Dana. If we don’t quiet her, she won’t be any good to us.”

  The mare was throwing her head, still trying to rear on her back legs. Ben leaned forward in the saddle to counter her weight, stroking her neck and murmuring.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dana had backed away, though she continued to bounce from foot-to-foot. By the time he’d finally calmed the mare, she stood looking defeated, staring off in the direction Drogan had fled.

  “Good girl. That’s it.” Ben rubbed the mare’s neck. When her trembling had stopped, he turned to Dana and held his good arm down to her. “Okay, quick.”

  She was behind him in a flash, waving wildly in the direction Drogan had disappeared.

  “I think I hit him. I think I saw him fall backward.”

  Ben let the horse pick its way carefully through the cemetery. Once they reached the other side, he thought he could barely make out Drogan’s form on the far side of the western field.

  Then he let the horse have its head, and they flew.

  Sixty-nine

  The first five miles passed quickly.

  Drogan barely maintained his lead as he headed northwest across the open fields. Ben had to fight his itch to rein in the mare and pull out his rifle. He knew it would be madness in the darkness at such a distance. Without the night vision scope, he didn’t have a chance of making the shot.