Saving Amber - Zoe Dawson Page 0,73

The man then pulled a knife and sliced at Tristan, catching his cheek as Tristan jerked back.

They stared grimly at each other as blood trickled down Tristan’s face and into the collar of his jacket.

“What do they call that? First blood, Marine?”

Tristan grinned. “Yeah, that’s what they call it. But I guess it only matters who gets the last blood,” he said, low and menacing. The guy was scared, his eyes wild. Tristan couldn’t be calmer. Tristan wrapped his arm around his upper body, hunching to protect his neck. “It’s your move, asshole. You want to hunt me? Come get me.”

The guy lunged and as the hunter’s arm came around to slash him, Tristan sidestepped away from the blade and scissor blocked. He clasped his attacker’s wrist, pulling his attacker toward him and dragging his arm underneath Tristan’s armpit. With his free hand, he went for the knife hand hard, breaking the guy’s wrist so he dropped the knife. Tristan stepped on it and shoved the guy away. He bent down and picked up the knife. The guy scrambled backward, then turned and started to run. Tristan bent down, picked up the rifle and sighted through the scope. Taking a breath and letting it out slowly, he pulled the trigger. The guy dropped to the ground. Tristan walked the short distance and peeled off the guy’s cap and stripped off his coat, then put a bullet in his head. He dressed the guy in his own cap and coat and shrugged into the dead hunter’s jacket. He took the knife scabbard off the guy, tucked the knife back into it and hooked it securely to his belt. Then he slipped the rifle strap over his shoulder and looked down the trail, his eyes narrowing.

Using the back of his sleeve, he swiped at the stinging cut on his face. Still heated from the tussle with the dead hunter, Tristan loped off toward a good hiding spot.

One to go. For just a moment his worry about Amber broke through, but he pushed it back. Focus, Michaels.

“Hey, Werner!” Tristan yelled at the top of his lungs. “I got him!”

The chief was going to be on alert after those gunshots. He had no idea that his buddies were already gone. Tristan waited until he heard the sound of someone approaching.

“Where are you?” the chief yelled out.

Tristan waited as Werner got closer. He sighted through the scope, waiting for his shot.

As soon as the chief stepped from the clearing, Tristan pulled the trigger. The bullet knocked the man off his feet, and down he went.

Tristan never hesitated as he made a beeline for Werner’s prone body. As he approached, the chief raised his rifle and aimed it awkwardly. He got a shot off and Tristan dove away. The bullet cut through his sleeve and he felt the sting and burn of it as it bit into his skin.

He was up and running the minute he hit the ground, but so was the chief. He ran through a copse of trees and Tristan increased his speed. The bastard had been wearing a vest! He was prepared. Tristan caught him at the end of the tree line and the chief threw a punch, but Tristan ducked it. He hit the man in the gut and then flipped him onto his back. They rolled in the snow and the chief elbowed him in the face and scrambled away. He went for the rifle, but Tristan grabbed the barrel and the shot went wild.

The chief, his face contorted, lunged, but Tristan sidestepped. They were right at the edge of a cliff and the chief’s arms wind milled. At the last minute, he grabbed Tristan’s jacket and Tristan was falling.

He hit something hard and was dazed and reeling. The sound of the chief’s death cry cut off abruptly.

His vision went gray and anguish clutched at him.

Amber!

Amber had been running for so long she’d lost track of time. She’d followed Tristan’s instructions to the letter. She’d run full out for an hour, nothing new to a runner like her. Then, she’d doubled back, giving the hunters trailing her a wide berth. As soon as she got halfway back down the trail, she veered north and headed for the stream. She wasn’t sure she could make it by nightfall, but she was hoping that Tristan got to her before the sun went down. She didn’t relish spending the night out here by herself.

She tried to minimize her sweat, but her exertions were