FATAL BURN

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e deceiving. He was shaking his head as if grappling with his ethics. “We can’t do this. It’s murder. Premeditated murder.” “It’s already been decided.” The leader was firm. “There must be a better way.” “The plan is already in motion. No one will ever find out.” “But—” “As I said, it’s been decided.” The whisper was scathing and cruel, daring the dissident to argue further. All the unseen eyes turned on the one who had found the courage to object. He held his ground for a fraction of a second before his shoulders slumped in reluctant acceptance, as if there was nothing he could do. He argued no more. “Good. Then we’re all in agreement.” The leader shot the protestor one final glance before outlining the simple but effective plan to put an end to Ryan Carlyle’s life. No one asked a question. Everyone understood. “We’re in agreement?” the leader checked. There were nods all around, aside from the one dissenter. “We’re in agreement?” the leader demanded again harshly. The dissenter gave up his fight and hitched his chin quickly, as if afraid to utter even the slightest protest. The leader snorted, satisfied, then moved his eyes from the objector to each member standing at a point of the star before zeroing in on the latecomer again. Because he’d arrived a few minutes after midnight, the appointed time? Because of a basic animal mistrust? He felt the weight of the tall man’s stare and met it evenly. “You all know your assignments. I expect you to execute them flawlessly.” No one spoke. “Leave,” the leader ordered. “Separately. Each the way you came. Discuss this with no one.” As the flames in the star began to spread, searching for other sources of fuel, each of the five conspirators turned from the fire and disappeared into the forest. He, too, did as he was bid, rotating quickly, ignoring the thundering of his heart and the sweat covering his body. Inside he was thrumming, his senses heightened. He jogged upward and hazarded one glance over his shoulder. Straining to listen, he heard nothing over the sound of his own labored breathing and the sigh of the wind as it rushed through the surrounding trees. He was alone. No one was following him. No one would find out what he had planned. Far below, in the clearing, the fire was beginning to take hold, the fiery star splintering and crawling rapidly through the summer-dry grass toward the surrounding woods. He didn’t have much time. Yet he waited, eyes scanning the dark hillside, the seconds ticking away. Finally he heard the faraway sound of an engine starting, and then, barely a minute later, another car or truck roared to life. Come on, come on, he thought, glancing at his watch and biting at the edge of his lip. Finally the sound of a third engine, barely discernable, revved to life, only to fade into the distance. Good. He waited for the fourth vehicle to start. A minute passed. He lifted his mask and mopped his face, then pulled it over his head again. Just in case. Another full minute ticked by. What the hell was going on? He felt the light touch of fear burn down his spine. Don’t panic. Just wait. But it shouldn’t take this long. Everyone should have been desperate to flee. Through the trees he spied the growing flames. Soon someone would see the fire, call it in. Damn! Maybe the leader had changed his mind, considered him a risk after all. Maybe showing up late had been a far worse mistake than he’d imagined and even now the leader of the secret band was stalking him, closing in. Fists clenched, every sense alive, he searched the darkness. Don’t lose it. There’s still time. Again he glanced at his watch. Nearly twelve-thirty. And the fire below was taking hold, crackling and burning, racing through the undergrowth. His ears strained as the smell of smoke teased his nostrils…Was that the sound of a car’s engine roaring to life? Five more minutes passed and he stood, sweating, muscles tight, ready to spring. Still nothing. Fuck! He couldn’t waste another minute and decided to risk his plan. Swiftly he began running up the trail again, heading toward the little-used logging road high above, but at a fork in the path, he veered sharply right. Heart pounding, his nerves twisted and jangled, he angled along the side of the hill. His muscles were beginning to ache with the effort when he finally saw the abyss ahead of him, a deep chasm cut into the hillside. He was close now. Could still make it. Without