“I thought the mayor assigned the tithe,” Remi said.
“The mayor assigns the tithe that Pete orders. Anyway, Sally said she’d been ordered to kill someone. I told her that was no big deal. Wasn’t any worse than slaughtering a pig. I even had her cut the throats of two of ’em so she’d get the experience first hand before carrying out her tithe.”
Remi wrapped her arms around her stomach.
“She was sent to kill my friend,” Greer told him.
“Oh, no. Really?”
Greer wondered if the woodcutter’s concern could sound any more fake. “She failed. Did you drug her?”
He held up his hand. “I’m clean, man. Maybe it was that doctor she’s been sneaking off with.”
“Why did they give her that assignment?”
The woodcutter slowly smiled, showing a grin ravaged by crack and poor nutrition. “Why do you think? The Friends don’t like so much attention. You and your buds just don’t get the message, do you?”
“Greer, get outta there,” Max’s voice said via his comm unit. “You got enough info from him.”
“Where’s Sally now?” Greer asked.
“How should I know?”
“Someone from the community retrieved her from the clinic.”
“Ask Dr. Robinson. He’s been making plans for clearing out of here—with her.”
“Do you think the WKB has her?” Remi asked. “Maybe you could go to them—”
“I can’t,” the woodcutter said. “I can’t leave.”
“Why?” Greer asked.
“G—the guys got ambushed and are rerouting. They’re on their way but still fifteen minutes out,” Max said.
The woodcutter pointed to the columns of dashes on his torso. “See these? They’re my kills. I’m a liability to the WKB. I get to live only if I never leave the community. The terms of my retirement were quite clear.” A sound in the woods made him jump. A nocturnal critter—whether it was a small one moving carelessly or a large one moving softly, was too hard to tell.
“I gotta go. I said what I came to say. If I was you, I’d forget all about the girl. Leave the Friends. Leave Wyoming.” The woodcutter pointed at Greer. “You and all your friends.” He slipped away, melting into the woods, moving more quietly than the animal they’d just heard.
The air in the hollow where they stood had only cooled since they arrived. Greer faced Remi. “That was chilling,” Remi said. “And not very helpful. Do you think Dr. Robinson had more to do with Sally’s disappearance than he let on? Maybe he’s got her somewhere safe, and he’s just biding time before he joins her.”
“Maybe.” Greer nodded. “That could explain her absence, but what about all the others that have gone missing? There are very few older teens here. No one seems worried about their missing children. I hate that.” He turned back toward Remi’s vehicle.
“Greer, get moving now! The woodcutter isn’t heading back into the community. He’s moving parallel to you,” Max cautioned. “I don’t like it.”
“Roger that.” He took Remi’s elbow and hurried her toward her car.
“What’s happening?” she asked, jogging to keep up with him.
“The woodcutter isn’t as benign as he’d have us think.”
“I never thought he was.”
“We have to get out of here.”
“But our stuff. My notes…”
“I’ll come back for them. After you’re safe.” When they were almost to her car, Greer checked the woods, watching for the woodcutter. “Max, where is he?”
“Following along with you twenty yards to your right.”
Remi unlocked her vehicle. “Turn the engine on. If I don’t make it through what’s coming, get down the mountain right back to Blade’s house. Got it?” He wanted to send her home right away, but couldn’t because whatever had waylaid the others could still be out there waiting.
“Greer, I’m scared.”
“Some of the guys are already en route.” He opened her door and hit the lock button as she got in. “Start it up and hunker down.”
“Behind you, Greer!” Max warned at the same time Greer heard the heavy weight of a man charging toward him.
Greer had enough time to duck the fast swing of his hand ax. It lodged in the door panel. Remi screamed, the sound muted behind the closed window of her car. Greer’s senses narrowed to only the sounds that served in the fight—the woodcutter’s breathing, his grunts as he retrieved the ax and raised it again, the silence of the road on either side of the small parking area where they’d left their vehicle.
Greer kept his body between the woodcutter and Remi’s car. The guy was about the same height as Greer, but bulkier. The skin of his face was pulled back from his teeth and eyes, presenting a formidable mask of horror. Such a face was the last thing the eighteen lives carved into his chest had seen.
Greer considered shooting the woodcutter, but discarded that option as fast as he thought it. The guy was more useful alive than dead. And so he danced with him, dodging to the left, to the right, moving closer so that the woodcutter had to step back in order to get a good swing in.
Greer let him tire himself, then he caught the woodcutter’s hand, stopping it on a downward swing. He punched the guy’s face, stunning him long enough to twist the ax from his grip. The woodcutter drew his knife from the sheath at his waist and jabbed at Greer, who blocked the thrusts with the flat side of the ax.
When that bored Greer, he shoved the flat head of the ax into the guy’s solar plexus, knocking the wind from him. His arms went wide and he teetered on the edge of his heels, then dropped backward like a felled tree.
Dully, Greer became aware of Remi still screaming in her vehicle. The lights from Remi’s car and the other that now faced him illuminated the WKB’s hitman. Greer left him to the guys who were rushing from their SUV. He had to get to Remi.