The cabin was only a stone's throw away, but had three cars parked in front of it, and a large pickup. A warm glow in the windows and smoke coming out of the chimney suggested that whoever was inside had a fire going.
“Let’s move closer, make sure Ryker’s in there,” Dex whispered, scooting low.
“No,” Hammer said and gestured at the elongated ridge at the top of the hill. “Let’s try to keep our distance and see if we can spot him from afar first. No unnecessary risk. That’s the first rule you need to follow, so let’s survey the situation,” He said in that low, confident tone Dex wanted him to use whenever he called Dex Prospect.
Dex groaned, itching to barge in, guns blazing. “I mean, they’re not expecting us, and probably drunk or whatever.” So maybe he was just making up what kind of activities Ryker and his friendscouldbe up to, but waiting had never been his strong suit. Still, he followed Hammer’s lead and crept between the tree trunks, which appeared so stark and dark against the backdrop of snow.
“A drunk man can still be dangerous when he’s desperate,” Hammer said, narrowing his eyes as they moved along the slope, trying to catch a glimpse through the window. He pulled on Dex’s shoulder, forcing him into the snow when two men stepped onto the front porch, already lighting cigarettes. One had a beard and wore a plaid shirt, the other sported a T-shirt featuring runes and a Viking axe, but they were too relaxed to notice they had company.
A woman peeked out of the window with a cup in hand. Blonde, with a forgettable face, she wore a thick sweater that exposed her cleavage despite the cold.
“Shit,” Dex whispered. “Do you think it’s some fuckfest in there?”
But Hammer covered Dex’s mouth as the men on the porch started talking.
“Can you imagine they just left the van open at the back? I grabbed that full crate of grenades and was off in seconds,” the Lumberjack said to the Viking.
“Thank you, Uncle Sam!” Viking whistled and laughed, before taking a drag of smoke.
Hammer scowled. “Dividing the spoils, more like,” he muttered before sinking deep into the snow. One look at the house made Dex do the same, because the woman they’d spotted moments ago was now kissing none other than Ryker.
“We should drink with that soldier boy more often,” Lumberjack said to his friend back on the porch.
“He won’t be a soldier much longer.”
They both laughed as if they’d just made the best joke in ages, and Dex rolled his eyes.
“At least we know Ryker’s here,” he whispered to Hammer. “Maybe I could snipe him—” But as he reached to his holster, his blood ran colder than the snow already melting a bit around his knees. “Fuck. I forgot my gun.”
Hammer stared at him without a word, but while there were no ugly words thrown Dex’s way, the weight of his man’s disappointment was like a lead collar around his neck.
“Look, I’m sorry—” Dex started but Hammer cut him off, slowly moving toward the back of the cabin. The trees there were packed together, and the snow provided additional cover, but they should both remain cautious.
“Remember next time. We won’t be making our move before the other men leave anyway,” he said as Dex spotted two more figures looming inside, behind Ryker and his new girlfriend.
“I know, I know, it’s just because we were changing clothes…” The sense of failure extinguished Dex’s good mood. He should have remembered something as important as the fucking gun. “Maybe I’ll go get it in the meanwhile.”
Hammer shook his head and settled behind a short tree with a dense set of snow-covered branchlets, which offered a decent hiding spot while providing an excellent view of the roof, the back door, and even a small shed at the back of the building. “No. Stay here and watch them. Report to me when I’m back, okay?”
Dex swallowed, all too aware of what this was about. “I wouldn’t get lost…” he tried, but they both knew he sucked at navigation.
Hammer exhaled and offered him a tense smile that bred yet more guilt. “I’d rather be the one to go. You just watch them and stay hidden. No unnecessary moves, is that clear? If worse comes to worst, here’s my gun.” He passed Dex his firearm.
“B-but—”
“No buts. You’re a good shot. Keep it, stay put, and I’ll be back soon enough,” Hammer said, already retreating the same way they came, like a white ghost whose cape swept away obvious tracks and who wielded a sledgehammer for protection.
Dex hit himself on the forehead and glared at the snow forming a dense layer on the cabin’s roof. Why did he always have to fuck something up? Hammer surely considered him irresponsible, and he needed to prove his usefulness if it fucking killed him. They were so close to achieving their goal, and if he let Ryker slip away, the bastard would never get punished for his betrayal.
It would take at least half an hour for Hammer to reach the spot where they’d hidden the motorbike, and more time to return uphill, so if push came to shove, Dex would need to take action. It shouldn’t be an issue. After all, he’d shot four people back at Cora’s while naked and cuffed to the sofa. How hard could it be to dismantle this group of drunk idiots?
Hammer did tell him to stay put, but he surely would have wanted for Dex to make his move if life presented him with the perfect opportunity.
The cold started getting to Dex even before Hammer’s broad form disappeared from sight. Unprepared for this kind of weather, he was wearing sneakers, which didn’t offer adequate protection from the freezing temperatures or snow, and while his new jacket had a hood to cover his head with, his forehead was left exposed.
How long did it take for toes to freeze off? And what would it feel like to get frostbite? He’d heard that people felt a surge of warmth when they were about to die of cold, but did it work the same way if only parts of the body were exposed to the elements? Would his toes start sweating if they entered that stage? He’d hate to lose a toe or finger, but if he had to choose, he’d go with the little toe, as it felt like the most redundant part of his body.
Dex put one of his cold hands under his jacket to keep it warm, and sank his face into the snow, letting it bite him as self-punishment when he realized that he’d left the gloves bought at Goodwill in Hammer’s saddlebag, along with the gun.