and turned away, but not fast enough to hide the small answering grin. She picked up a light blanket and began folding it in an odd way.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Making a baby sling for Kyle that will keep my hands free. Belizean women do this all the time.”
“Good. The sling will help keep you and him warm, too. It’s summer, but the woods at night at this elevation can still be cool.”
The intricacies of her sling and how she got the baby into it without waking him up were mysteries to Hunter, but soon they were ready to head up and out. He opened the bottom hatch door and the telescoping ladder slid into place, just reaching the ground at his feet. Above him was a cement tube around four feet wide and about three-quarters his height. He climbed up to the fireproof upper hatch, but his hand hesitated on the lock.
God, please help us.
Despite his earlier words about their attackers not waiting around for the real rangers to arrive, the fact that those rangers hadn’t come set him on edge. Their attackers could still be out there, waiting for them to pop their heads up like gophers. Then again, it was highly improbable that their attackers knew about the bunker. No doubt he was uneasy over nothing. Still, Hunter held his breath as he released the locking mechanism and shoved the hatch open.
Smoke-tinged twilight air washed over him. An owl hooted nearby, and crickets fiddled their tunes. Hunter’s shoulders relaxed. If human beings were still lurking around out there, he wouldn’t be hearing those sounds.
He looked down at Karissa, who stood directly below, gazing up at him with questions in her eyes. “All clear, I’d say. Hand me the pack, would you?”
Her strained features relaxed, and she complied, handling the heavy article with ease. He thrust the pack, with the rifle strapped to its side, out onto the dew-sprinkled grass and climbed out of the tube after it. Sprightly as a spider monkey, Karissa climbed out after him, evidently not the least hindered by the precious cargo in her sling or her bullet wound.
While he donned the pack, Hunter’s gaze roamed the area. About thirty yards away, the remains of his cabin smoldered. Stray sparks winked at him from the burned wood. He suppressed a shudder at the thought of what would have become of all three of them had there been no bunker retreat.
God, were You guiding me with that idea to build one?
At the time, it had seemed like nothing more than a useful way to pass the abundance of time he had on his hands. Of course, if it had been an inspired idea, the providential point would have been to protect Karissa and the innocent baby. In surrendering his life to the Lord during the time period he was undergoing physical therapy, he’d been humbly grateful to squeak through the door of salvation for his soul in the next life. He didn’t expect or deserve anything more in this one.
“Let’s get going,” he said to his petite companion and stepped up behind her.
An angry bee zipped past his head. At least that’s what it sounded like. His heart squeezed into a fist as his brain kicked out the truth.
Not a bee—a bullet.
Hunter grabbed Karissa and the baby and shoved them ahead of him into the trees.
“Run!”
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