“He’s…” Dana’s voice broke, but she swallowed back her tears. “My friend needs help,” she managed to say.

There was a flicker of sympathy and other gentle emotions in his eyes, then his expression hardened. “I heard the shots. I’ll go get him, but I need to know what I’m up against. How many are there and do they know you’ve escaped?”

“I saw four men. Two of them were injured in the fight as I escaped. But there may be more.”

He nodded, then handed her a set of keys. “My truck’s parked about a quarter of a mile down the road. Stay there and lock the doors until the police arrive,” he whispered. “I’ve already called them.”

“I don’t think you heard me right. My friend is back there,” she said, anger rippling through her. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re armed. Let’s go help him.”

She noticed the butt of a pistol sticking out of his pocket. “You’ve got a rifle, a pistol and a knife. Give me the knife so I can defend myself and I’ll show you where he is. We need to get to him before it’s too late. He was bleeding badly.”

“Your choice,” he said, handing her the knife. He looked past her, then brought the rifle to his shoulder. “Get down.”

He fired a shot, then motioned for her to follow him. “Hurry, and stay low!” he whispered. “At least two of them are on the move.”

They moved quickly to their left. Behind them, there was the sound of bullets striking the tree where they’d been, and nearly simultaneous gunshots from somewhere to their right. They circled as quietly as possible, then stopped behind a rock. The cabin was about fifty yards to their right, and she could see the front fender of the van on the other side of the building. Two more shots rang out, ricocheting off a rock several feet behind them. At least one of the men had moved along with them.