Mountain of Lies

Chapter 8

His micro nap had helped revive him--or maybe it was the soul-rousing kiss with Mia, or the sudden shock of cold water pouring over his head. Regardless, his natural energy was back as they slithered and slid downhill through the muddy forest.

He held the front of the travois and Mia and Neville shared the wider back end. They'd strapped both packs on top of the cargo netting and were able to twist and turn the load as they manoeuvred through the trees. Neville trotted happily along, his equilibrium restored after the trauma of the storm. Mia was more subdued. She had to be exhausted, but she never flagged, just kept pressing onward in the direction her GPS dictated.

"Mia."

She was leaning against a tree, staring into the distance as they took a breather, and started slightly when he spoke her name. She held out the water bottle, and he took it and sipped carefully. They were down to their last litre. They hadn't felt the lack of moisture at any point during their crazy journey, with water sloshing into their boots and coming at them from all angles, but in the last hour the sun had started to bake the mountain dry. They'd been sheltered in the old growth forest, but the heat and humidity was building even here, where the spaces between trees was widening, and he felt a need to conserve what they had left until he knew they were home free.

He handed the bottle back. "It's going to be fine, Mia."

She nodded vaguely and held the water bottle over Neville's bowl. The dog, who'd been slurping from puddles on the forest floor, declined to investigate the offering, and she capped the bottle instead and stowed it in the side pocket of her pack.

Hudson walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "I mean it, Mia. We've got most of the load here. I've got the information I need to pass on to wrap up the case. And then we'll go hunt this Abe guy down." He ran his hands down her arms and tangled his fingers with hers, tugging her closer. "And then—"

The sound of gunshots echoed up the mountain and instinct took over. Hudson tucked Mia under him and pressed her to the ground. Neville leapt over them and planted himself between his people and the noise. The fur along his back rose in a crest and a slow, steady growl seemed to vibrate through Hudson's bones. There was a pause and another burst of shots, and Neville lunged forward, barking loudly.

Mia shoved back against Hudson and turned her head, "Neville, hush."

The dog sat and whined softly, fur still prickled and ears straining forward. Hudson lifted himself cautiously and pulled Mia to her feet. Mia pulled out the GPS and compared it to the direction of Neville's attention.

"Looks like we're out of time." She pointed. "The road is straight down that way." She took a deep breath. "They're here."

Hudson moved to the front of their load and picked up the straps. "Okay, let's go." He was eager to get this wrapped up and took a second to school his features and sink back into Remy Beauchamp. The possibility of a new life with Mia after he finished this sting was lighting a fire in him, and for the first time he was tempted to take any shortcuts he could to speed up the resolution to the case.

Mia hadn't moved. "There's something I need to tell you."

Hudson frowned at her. He couldn't afford to let thoughts of spending time with Mia distract him from finishing this job properly. "Not now. There'll be plenty of time after. Let's get this done first." He'd dropped back into his French accent, and he could see something shutter in Mia's face just before she turned and walked to the back of the travois. She unclipped her pack from the cargo netting and slipped it over her shoulders before stepping between the handles. She bent and lifted.