Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 114793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Someone—or something—had just crossed the line.
The flare was still burning out in the trees, leaving an orange streak in the sky like a firework sent up by fate to ruin my morning.
I turned to Webb, who was frozen beside me, eyes wide, lips parted like he hadn’t decided whether to panic or punch something.
I didn’t budge.
“Inside,” Webb hissed. “Now! Go to the pantry and lock the door. You know the drill.”
I folded my arms. “Webb—”
“Gabby, go.”
He looked like he was ready to throw me over his shoulder and haul me off like a sack of flour, but I planted my feet and stood tall. “No, I’m not hiding like a hostage in a cereal box. I’m staying.”
“We talked about this—”
“I’ve got your back,” I told him as steadily as I could.
“With what?” he whisper-shouted, gesturing wildly like I was the crazy one here.
I pointed toward the crate by the firepit. “The sardines and those out-of-date wieners from the pantry.”
He just stared at me, his mouth opening and closing like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You’re going to fight off armed men with expired meat?”
“I have range,” I whispered, feeling weirdly proud of it. “I can throw them.”
“And kill someone with botulism?” he asked, incredulous.
I lifted my chin. “And don’t forget the raccoons. I’ve got backup.”
That shut him up for a second. “Have you lost your damn mind?” he finally asked.
“No,” I shot back. “I think I've finally found it.”
But before he could either argue or drag me bodily inside, movement flickered through the trees. Webb's reaction was instant—gun up, aimed, and deadly. My heart jerked into my throat as a figure stepped into the clearing, hands raised in peace, and I exhaled in relief.
It was Eddie. He had a coil of fishing wire in one hand, one eyebrow raised like it was trying to take off from his face, and a look that screamed you idiots are going to be the death of me.
“Easy,” he snickered. “Don’t shoot the guy on your side.”
Webb lowered the gun with a curse and shoved it back into his waistband. “Jesus, a little more warning next time.”
“I thought the flare was warning enough,” Eddie muttered sarcastically, scanning the clearing like he expected something to go boom. “That was me. My boot caught the outer perimeter line, and I tripped it by accident.”
I let out a breath and leaned back against the nearest tree, the adrenaline still buzzing through me.
Eddie’s gaze moved to the crate of dented cans and the firepit, then to me—clearly clocking the fact that I was seconds from raccoon deployment.
Then he looked at Webb. “Is that seriously the best trap she’s got? Because if that’s all she’s working with, she’s screwed.”
“Gabby’s got more,” Webb muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “I’ve got the good ones set farther past the ridge. That flare was just a warning line.”
Eddie didn’t look convinced.
Webb jerked a thumb toward me. “This was all I was willing to let her handle. I didn’t want her getting caught in anything sharp or swinging.”
He glanced at me with something between fondness and defeat. “She’s got salmonella in a can and an army of raccoons.”
“Don’t forget the wieners,” I pointed out, narrowing my eyes and already mentally aiming one at someone’s head.
Eddie gave us both a long, baffled look, as if we were the punchline to a survivalist joke he didn’t want to hear the setup to.
“You know what,” he shrugged. “I’m not even going to ask.”
He still squinted at me like he was trying to figure out what kind of creature I was, though. I held his gaze, my arms still crossed, because I wasn’t moving. Not while Webb was out here. Not while any of us were still in danger.
“If I dare ask,” Eddie said to Webb, “can she at least shoot in the general direction of someone trying to kill her?”
Webb sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, she can shoot. She’s not perfect,” he added, giving me a sideways glance, “but she can keep a threat busy.”
Eddie winced like it physically hurt him. “Then she should be carrying. All the time.”
“No,” Webb snapped immediately, head shaking. “We’re not turning the cabin into a full-time live-fire zone. She doesn’t even always know where the muzzle is pointed.”
“Once,” I muttered.
“Twice,” he countered.
“That’s not entirely fair,” I called out cheerfully as I pushed through the front door.
“I do know which end’s the dangerous one!”
Behind me, I heard Webb’s voice echo after me. “That’s not comforting!”
Eddie, of course, had something to add. “Look, if she’s sticking around long enough to start naming backup raccoons, she needs to carry. End of story.”
I disappeared into the cabin before either of them could argue further and headed straight for the gun stash. If I was going to help, I needed more than expired sardines and raccoon diplomacy.