“Jenny had her entire life ahead of her,” Eve said.
“How do you know that’s her name?” Walsh snapped.
“That is her name, isn’t it?”
He was silent.
Eve smiled. “She told me.”
“Bullshit.”
“Believe what you want. I know the truth.”
And he knew it, too, Eve realized. Jenny had definitely reached out to him.
“We’ll wait here.” He stopped and pointed through the trees at a clearing. “That’s where your Joe Quinn will be meeting us. Don’t make a sound, Eve, and it may be over soon, with a minimum of pain for you.”
*
In less than five minutes, Joe appeared in the clearing. He was holding the bundle under his arm. Run, take the skull, and get the hell out of here, she wanted to tell him. But she had said it all before, and he wouldn’t do it now any more than he had then.
Joe looked around. “Walsh?” he called out.
Walsh responded, still in the cover of the surrounding trees. “Put the skull down, Quinn. And take the gun from your holster and throw it into the woods.”
“Let me see Eve.”
Walsh nudged her.
She called out. “I’m here, Joe.”
Joe tossed his gun, then rested the mosquito-net-wrapped bundle on the ground. He stepped back. “Here’s what you wanted. Now let her go.”
Bam.
Walsh fired his gun, and Joe went down.
Joe!
Blood spurted from his right side. He rolled over and looked up at Eve.
Walsh stepped forward. “So sorry, Quinn. But Eve here has been selling you as quite the formidable opponent. I couldn’t take the chance.”
Eve tried to run to Joe, but Walsh held her back.
“He can still survive, but you need to be smart, Eve. I promise you, my next bullet will finish him.”
She whirled back toward him, her eyes glistening. “He did everything you asked,” she said fiercely.
“That remains to be seen. Open the package for me, Eve. Let’s see your creation.”
Eve turned toward Joe. He was doubled over on the ground, pale and in pain. She wanted to run to him.
Walsh shoved her toward the package. “You’re wasting time.”
Eve knelt on the ground, just feet away from where Joe lay. She pulled away the mosquito netting and froze. She looked up and locked eyes with Joe.
“Well?” Walsh said.
Eve turned and raised the reconstructed skull in Walsh’s direction.
He lowered his gun and stepped toward her, his gaze fixed on the skull. He had that odd expression on his face again.
Fear. Awe. Anger.
Eve slowly reached down into the folds of netting and picked up the present Joe had hidden for her there.
His 9mm Beretta.
She gripped the handle and whirled around, firing at Walsh.
The first shot hit him in the shoulder. His gun flew from his hand.
The second shot grazed his temple.
Walsh screamed in pain and ran into the woods.
Eve kept firing until the cartridge was empty. She grabbed Walsh’s gun and turned back toward Joe. “I need you to walk. Can you do that for me?”
He shook his head, and whispered, “Go. Run.”
“No way. Not without you.” She linked her arms underneath his and dragged him out of the clearing.
His eyes fluttered. She was losing him.
She tore off her overshirt and pressed it against his wound. “Hold this here. I’ve called Nalchek. He should have been here by now.”
She punched the number. The buttons became sticky with blood. Joe’s blood.
“Nalchek,” he answered.
“Where the hell are you? Joe’s been shot. We need help now.”
“You’ll get it. The police helicopters are on their way.”
She cut the connection and turned back toward Joe.
She fell to her knees beside him.
Blood.
Staining his shirt. So much blood.
“They’re coming, Joe. He said the helicopters are on their way.”
“I think … I hear them.”
So did Eve, but so far away.