Minutes to Kill (Scarlet Falls #2)(44)

“Yes, sir,” Lee answered automatically, but he didn’t sound convinced.

“Do you mind if your sister goes along?”

“No, sir,” Lee said. “She’s better in the woods than I am.”

The Colonel ignored Lee’s statement, but Hannah’s heart warmed at her brother’s praise. Grant spent most of the year away at boarding school, and Mac favored the forest over human companionship. Lee and Hannah shared a love for learning. Secretly, Hannah preferred books over hiking and camping, too, but she’d never admit that. Not to the Colonel. Today, with light rain beading on the windows, staying home for the weekend sounded tempting. But bowing out might get her labeled a fair-weather soldier. She could be excluded from future weekends. Most of the time the Colonel spent with his children was focused on survival training, shooting, and self-defense, as he sought to pass along all the skills he’d accumulated as an army ranger. It was as if, after that roadside bomb in Operation Desert Storm robbed him of the use of his legs, he was living through his sons, particularly Grant.

“Mac!” The Colonel shouted into the hall.

“Coming.” The youngest of the Barretts, ten-year-old McClellan, skidded into the foyer. His half-empty backpack hit the floor at his feet with the metallic clunk of a loose canteen. Whippet-thin, Mac was wiry, quick, and much stronger than he appeared. The Colonel didn’t bother to inspect his youngest son’s pack. Mac was part wild thing and could likely exist for years in the forest with nothing more than his instincts.

Their father wheeled himself through the front door and into the dawn.

“Ready?” Grant asked her.

“You bet.” Hannah feigned confidence. Honestly, the weekend was going to suck. Two days of trudging through mud and a night of camping on the wet ground didn’t appeal, but this was what it took to be a Barrett, and Hannah wasn’t going to be left out because she hadn’t been born with a penis.

Grant led the way into the light rain. The three younger siblings fell in behind him. Hannah hoisted her pack over one shoulder and headed for the specially adapted SUV their father drove. They piled into the vehicle, and the Colonel headed west into the mountains. Hours later, he stopped the vehicle, and the four children stepped out into a clearing. Hannah zipped her jacket and fished a cap and gloves from her pack. Early autumn had an icy bite. They lined up for last-minute instructions.

The Colonel stayed in the vehicle. Though he was fully capable of getting out of the SUV and into his chair solo, the process wasn’t quick, and the mud would be an issue. Depression dimmed the blue of his eyes. The Colonel did his best to ignore his paralysis, but he would have loved nothing more than spending the next two days playing Rambo.

He issued orders through the open window. “Grant, you’re in charge.” The Colonel held up a walkie-talkie. They all had matching units on their belts. “Stay together. You have the coordinates for the rendezvous?”

“Yes, sir.” Grant answered.

“Be safe. See you tomorrow.” The Colonel’s gesture was more salute than wave. The SUV turned around and drove away, leaving the four children alone in the dripping forest.

Grant unfolded his map. Lee, Mac, and Hannah gathered around. The Colonel was old-school. No fancy GPS equipment was allowed. Grant tapped a forefinger on a red dot drawn on the map. “Here’s where we are, and here’s our extraction point.” He pointed to another location.

Mac took one glance at the two dots and set off down the trail with a long and contented stride. “Water’s not going to be a problem.”

Trusting his internal compass, the rest of them followed in single file.

“Ready?” Grant asked Hannah.

“Always,” she answered his challenge.

Lee hunched his shoulders against the drizzle. “If we keep up a good pace, is there any chance we can finish this today?”

“No.” Grant studied the folded map as he walked. “It’s too far, most of it uphill, and we lost daylight to the drive.”

“Half the distance today and half tomorrow. We can do that by lunch.” As much as he hated these weekends, Lee’s optimism impressed her. “Suck it up” should have been their family motto.

The rain intensified until even Mac’s shoulders started to droop. Water found its way into the neck of Hannah’s jacket. She shivered as a rivulet snaked down her chest. She lowered her chin. Grant picked up the pace, anxious to cover ground. The incline steepened until she strained to keep up. Talking ceased as they saved their breath for the climb. Hannah was grateful the rush of rain on her nylon hood drowned out the sounds of her labored breathing. She stayed tight on her brother’s heels. Visibility worsened as rain became downpour. She slipped in the mud, going down on one knee.

Grant stopped to grab her elbow. He shouted over the rain, “Are you all right? Need to stop for a while?”

She shook her head. There was no way she was going to be the one to suggest they rest. No way. Not even if her feet were numb. She’d walk until her legs dropped off before she’d cry uncle.

“Suit yourself.” He turned and strode off.

Hannah scrambled to catch up. Rain washed into her eyes, and her legs trembled. Her jacket and boots were waterproof, but below the jacket’s hem, rain had soaked the thighs of her pants. The underlying muscles cramped in the cold. She tugged the brim of her hood down lower on her forehead. She could keep up with Grant. Pushing forward, she focused her gaze and her will on the back of his navy-blue jacket. Stopping would be the worst thing. Unless they found shelter and could start a fire, being still would only make her colder.