Chapter 6
The metallic tapping sound on the weathered cedar shingles above them froze Jax instantly in his tracks. Every muscle in his towering frame tightened like coiled steel. The old ranger cabin, which had offered a fleeting illusion of sanctuary just moments before, suddenly felt less like a hideout and more like a wooden coffin.
"Get down on the floor, Leo! Now!" Jax hissed, his voice dropping into a harsh, commanding whisper.
Without a second hesitation, Jax lunged across the small, dusty room, scooping the boy up by his oversized jacket and slamming him flat behind the heavy oak table. He drew his hunting knife once more, the cold steel gleaming faintly in the pale beam of the flashlight resting on the floorboards.
A heavy, deliberate footstep crunched on the gravel-covered roof directly above where they cowered. The wood beneath the shingles groaned under the weight, followed by the soft rustle of dry pine needles sliding down the sloping pitch of the cabin.
Leo clutched the faded photograph against his chest so hard the edges bent. His hazel eyes were wide with terror, but he clamped his lips shut, refusing to make a single sound. He understood the lethal gravity of their situation far better than any eight-year-old ever should.
Jax’s mind raced through the cabin's layout. There was no back door. The only entrance was the heavy wooden front door they had just unlocked. If a sniper was positioning himself above the chimney flue, they were entirely trapped in the crosshairs. Unless...
A sharp scrape of leather against metal echoed from the exterior wall near the small, grimy window. Someone was rappelling down the cliffside.
Jax kicked off his scuffed boots silently to improve his traction on the splintered floorboards. He motioned frantically for Leo to stay low, pressing a heavy finger to his lips. With catlike stealth born of decades on the violent fringes of the law, Jax crept toward the darkened corner where an old, rusted wood-burning stove stood cold and silent against the fieldstone hearth.
Before he could reach the hearth, the cabin door’s rusted padlock—which Jax had left hanging loosely on the iron latch—pinged softly as it was nudged open from the outside.
A sliver of moonlight sliced across the dusty floor as the heavy wooden door slowly, agonizingly creaked open another two inches. A gloved hand reached inside, gripping the inner edge of the frame, testing the silent interior.
Jax didn't wait for them to draw a weapon. With an explosive burst of speed, he closed the distance, lunged forward, and slammed his heavy shoulder directly into the thick wooden door.
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A sharp grunt of surprise echoed from the porch, followed by the heavy thud of a body colliding violently with the rotting wooden railing.
"Run out the back window, Leo! Through the glass, use my vest to shield yourself!" Jax roared, turning to face the open doorway as a pair of silenced muzzle flashes suddenly lit up the night.
