The next raid is six days later in France again and we are up against fourteen Hunters. It goes smoothly: none of us are injured. Greatorex is healing well but misses that raid and the one after that, which is even smaller. The big difference, which I’m not happy with, is that, on the third raid, Annalise, Sarah, and another two foragers are brought along to help carry away anything we find afterward. They stay well back from the fighting and only come when one of the trainees gets them after the fighting’s over. But I’m uncomfortable with Annalise seeing me. The others fight with guns, so don’t get messed up, but I use a knife and end up looking like I’ve stepped out of a horror movie. I want to find somewhere to wash but first I decide to cover the bodies before the foragers arrive. This is something we never normally bother with.
There are ten bodies and I start to cover them with blankets from one of the tents. As I lay a blanket over one of the furthest bodies I notice that her eyes are closed and I can’t see any wound on her at all. I think she may be playing dead. I’m not sure if she’s got a gun in her jacket but I cover her with a blanket. I look over to the others but they aren’t paying any attention to me; they’re all busy with their jobs.
I get my knife out, pull the blanket back, and say, “Open your eyes.”
I’m not sure she can speak English but I bet she has the basics so I say, “Open your eyes or I cut the left one out. Now!”
She opens her eyes. They’re brown with silver sparks. White Witch sparks.
I shout now for the others to come. I’m still not sure what weapons she’s got. Marcus arrives within seconds and Gabriel not long after that.
It turns out she hasn’t got a gun but two knives. She’s French. Her name is Blondine but she won’t say more than that. At this stage Celia arrives and I’m about to leave her to it and go and find somewhere to wash when she says, “Nathan, she’s your prisoner. Stay with her until we’re ready to go back to camp.”
I look for Nesbitt, who is still my partner, so he can guard Blondine while I go and wash. But, of course, Nesbitt is never around when I need him.
I’ve never had a prisoner before. I’ve been one often enough but that doesn’t mean I’m sure what to do. The others leave to do their jobs and I see Annalise glancing over at me.
The only person who doesn’t have another job to do is Marcus. He stays with me. He’s staring at Blondine and not in a good way. I move to put myself between them.
He says, “You should kill her now. She deserves to die. They all do.”
Blondine whimpers. I say, “No, she’s my prisoner.” I grab hold of her arm as I have a bad feeling she might run. I can feel her shaking. I tell her, “Stay with me.”
It’ll be safer for Blondine if we go back into the center of the Hunter camp. I say to her, “We’ll go over to the others. Stay close to me. Say nothing.”
She’s so close to my side she’s almost tripping over my legs and she’s crying now and moaning quietly.
Marcus walks with us too, staring at her the whole time. It’s only a hundred meters but it feels like miles. With each step I think he’ll just lash out and kill her.
I head to where everyone is gathering. It looks like we’ll be heading back to base camp in a few minutes. I stop. Blondine stops too. Her arm is touching mine. Marcus is leaning in on her and I know that if I don’t get him away he’ll kill her.
Nesbitt is pulling on a huge rucksack of swag he’s collected. I say to him, “Stay with her. She’s our prisoner.” I point at him and tell Blondine, “Do as he says.”
Then I turn to Marcus but before I can speak he says, “Hunters caught my father, your grandfather, and tortured him to death. My father. And his father. And his. And his. If they caught us what would they do?”
“That doesn’t mean we do it.”
I walk past him, hoping he’ll come with me. I have to get him away from her. I half turn to him and say, “Don’t hurt her. Please. I don’t ask much from you.”
I keep walking off and he says, “Why?” But I think he’s heading my way. I keep walking. He’s with me. He asks again, “Why?”
We’re in farmland and I vault a gate and go into the next field. I get to the far end of it and stop.
He looks at me. “I can easily walk back and kill her.”
“I know.” I shrug. “But I don’t think you will if you don’t see her.”
“Out of sight, out of mind?”
“Something like that.”
“Why won’t you kill her?”
“I don’t want to be the sort of person who kills prisoners.”
“When I look at her I don’t see a prisoner. I see a Hunter. I see an enemy,” he says. “We see things differently. This is the first time I’ve seen your other side.”