He almost missed the disabled truck. Without street lights or road markers, it was dark as pitch outside. He caught sight of a dark blue pickup parked crookedly on the shoulder and hit his brakes, pulling up short in front of the truck instead.
“I thought the truck was halfway down the ravine,” Delilah said.
He glanced out the back windshield, noting the empty cab. “So did I.”
He got out, aware of the pit forming in his belly. He didn’t like the way this felt at all. No sign of a driver. No light of any kind beyond his bear’s heightened senses. They were in the middle of fucking nowhere and something felt off.
Delilah fell into step beside him and he stopped, whipping his head around when he noticed her. “You should wait in the truck,” he said.
“Where’s the driver?” she asked, ignoring him and approaching the truck.
He bit back a growl and scanned the ravine below before turning to the tree line that ran roadside starting twenty yards away. All of it was empty. “Not sure,” he said and a ripple of unease ran down his spine.
He reached the truck and did a complete 360. No damage. Not a single sign of a crash. “Weird,” he muttered.”
“What is it?” Delilah asked, wandering closer to peek in the truck window.
“Nothing’s wrong with it,” he said.
Delilah leaned against the passenger window and then snapped back. “Holy… Jake come here.”
He rushed to the window of the truck and peered inside. Hot pink fliers with his face pasted on them stared up at him from the seat. Across the top in black letters it said, “WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE.” And underneath, it named an insane dollar figure for returning him dead. The delivery address was someplace up the mountain, past the resorts he patrolled for. He made a mental note to check it out later.
“I don’t understand,” Delilah said. “I ran background checks on all of you. None of you had a record.”
“Damn right we don’t,” Jake said, still staring. Fliers were strewn everywhere and he spotted Xavier’s face and Harley’s too. Lucas and Nash were both there although their stack wasn’t as high.
“This isn’t a criminal wanted poster,” he said, backing away and scanning the area again, this time with his full animal senses.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Hunting posters. There’s a shop on the backside of the mountain that sells them during hunting season. Get back in the truck.” Someone was out here, he could smell them. He’d missed it before, so caught up in what the truck was doing up here and not down there. Delilah’s scent must’ve clouded his damned senses. Shit.
He scanned the darkness but he still didn’t see anyone. He honed in on the copse of trees twenty yards back and zeroed in. Something in there was breathing. He started walking that way.
“Wait, so, instead of hunting deer or whatever’s in season, they’re hunting you?” Delilah asked.