“Come’ere, Dog! You’re coming with us!”
The mutt only moved when its master joined them, but instead of going first and leaving the animal to follow, Ned pushed his pet in. Ned had been smart enough to remind Cole of the tunnel, but his wide eyes flicked from side to side all too fast, as if he couldn’t understand what was going on.
The whiff of dirt, its cold dampness on Cole’s palms felt like purgatory. He didn’t know if he’d emerge in heaven or hell at the end of the tunnel.
What if Dog got scared and stopped Ned from crawling forward? What if the tunnel collapsed? What if Zeb somehow made his way inside the house and found the secret entrance? So many things could go wrong, but the farther they were from the flames, the more he focused. After five years of solitude and using his guns solely for hunting, Ned wasn’t prepared to take a stand against a band of outlaws the way Cole was. If they were to both survive, Ned would have to obey orders and serve as Cole’s backup. Take care of Dog, the horses, and cover him while Cole took out their assailants one by one.
Whatever happened, they would both leave the battleground victorious.
He was surprised by how fast they reached the barn. The entrance from this side had been covered with hay, so once he smelled it and heard no sound other than the horses nervously beating their hooves against the floor, he realized that no one knew about this passage.
“Do we just mount up and go?” Ned whispered as Cole placed his hands against the wood of the trapdoor.
Cole swallowed and looked back, even though he could hardly see Dog’s nose, and nothing of Ned. “No. We need to get rid of them all. You prepare the horses and keep Dog’s muzzle shut,” he said, and pushed up the wooden board before throwing his bags to the floor above. He climbed out into Galahad’s empty stall, ecstatic to barely sense the smoke over the strong aroma of hay. Zeb didn’t know it, but he’d already lost at his own game.
He rushed out of the pen, but as he tried to assess whether their horses were both fine, a dark figure standing in the entrance made him freeze.
The glow of the fire snuck in through the gaps in the wood, but its presence only made the human silhouette more solid. It stepped back with a choked moan, and just as Cole realized how small it was—too small to be a grown man—the child pulled something up to his face, and the sharp cry of a whistle tore through the night, alerting every man, woman, and animal for miles.
Cole pounced like a mountain lion trying to protect his young, and the boy’s eyes went wide when Cole slapped the whistle away and grabbed the child’s hand. He knew something was off the moment silence rang in his ears instead of screams. And then he felt it against his palm. The boy had six fingers.
Chapter 16
Cole had only ever known one man who had six fingers and toes. That man had left a mark on his entire life. He’d been the one to bring Cole to this very homestead for the first time, and in a twisted way—also the one to connect him with Ned.
Cole couldn’t see the boy well, not in such low light, but he felt him struggle against the hold and could practically smell fear. With no one to protect him, the child was wolf bait.
Yet he didn’t scream, only whined and gurgled like a wounded rabbit.
“What’s going on?” Ned asked, climbing from the tunnel, but Cole struggled to explain their situation, because he didn’t understand it himself.
The door of the barn swung open, slamming into Cole’s head and side so hard he fell forward, reaching out to break the inevitable fall. His hands were like snares opening to let go of their catch, and the boy ripped out of his arms, dashing out of sight.
The air rang with Ned’s chaotic whistles, prompting Cole to roll over in the red glow of the flames outside. But as he faced Zeb’s tall form, the barrel of a mean-looking shotgun pointed straight at him.
It was over.
Cole’s hand dashed to the pistol on his hip, taking his chance even though Zeb’s trigger finger was in position, but before he managed to yank the gun out of its holster, Dog clashed with Zeb, roaring like a hellhound.
Cole yelped when Zeb’s bullet hit the floor next to his foot, but as he rose with the revolver in hand, Zeb and Dog collapsed, and the blaze roaring outside transformed them into a tangle of twisting limbs and shadows. Cole was ready to fight off multiple enemies, but there was no one else here but Zeb and the—