Then, there it was. A faint glow ahead. Firelight, tucked inside a narrow cut of canyon. Thorn slid off his horse and tied it to a thick brush. From there, he moved on foot, silent, careful, every step placed like the trackers who taught him years ago.
He crouched behind a slab of rock and looked down into the camp. Five men, just like Elara said. They sat around the fire, laughing, eating like they didn't have a care in the world. Off to the side, tied to a stunted tree, Della Crow, 70 years old and still sitting straight, eyes sharp with defiance. Thorn felt a flicker of respect for her.
Then his mind shifted. He couldn't rush in shooting. Five against one. And they might hurt her the second things turned bad. No.
He needed to be smarter than them. Faster than them. He waited. Let the night settle deep. The men passed a bottle around, voices growing louder, looser.
Thorn allowed himself a faint smile. Yeah. This would work. He slipped around the edge of camp toward where their horses were tied. One by one, quiet as a ghost, he cut the ropes.
The horses stirred, uneasy, then began drifting off into the dark. Thorn gave them a soft push, sending them scattering in different directions. Then he picked up a heavy stone, took aim, and hurled it far across the canyon. It slammed into the rocks with a thunderclap. Every man at the fire jumped to his feet, hands flying to their guns.
"What the hell was that? " one barked. "Go check it out, you fools! " the man in charge barked, Varick Holt's voice cutting sharp through the night. Three of the Holt riders rushed towards the noise, leaving only two behind by the fire. Thorn Kessler moved. Not fast.
Silent, like a shadow slipping through the dark. He came up behind the first man and swung the butt of his rifle hard against the back of his skull. The bandit dropped without a sound, crumbling into the dust. The second one turned, just in time to see Thorn closing in. They collided, struggled, but Thorn was quicker, stronger, driven by something colder than fear.
Within seconds, the man hit the ground out cold beside his partner. Thorn didn't waste a breath. He rushed straight to Della Crow, cutting through the ropes binding her wrists. "You're all right, ma'am," he said low. She gave a small nod, eyes sharp even now, shining with gratitude.
"I knew you'd come, boy. " "We got to move," Thorn murmured. "Now. The rest will be back any second. " But before they could take two steps, shouts tore through the canyon. The others had returned. They saw their men down.
"There! Over there! " one of the Holt riders roared, pointing straight at them. Thorn grabbed Della's hand. "Run! " he said, firm and urgent. "Run for my horse.
It's behind that rock. Go! " She didn't argue, didn't hesitate. For a woman her age, she moved fast, vanishing into the dark. Thorn turned back and held the line. The three men charged him, fury in their eyes.