“Yeah.” His shoulders twitched. “Definitely. I definitely can.”
“Then go, okay? Avery and Mr. Howe can’t be that far behind. Go find them. Tell him what’s happening. He’ll know what to do.”
He faltered. “You want me to go alone?”
“I’m not leaving Rose.”
“I’ll go with you,” Shelby offered.
“Thank you,” I said. “But be careful. Both of you.”
Impatience danced in Clay’s eyes. He tugged at Shelby’s sleeve. “Let’s go. I want to get out of here.”
“Don’t die,” she said to me.
“I won’t,” I told her. “I promise.”
—
They left, and I couldn’t just sit there. I turned and slithered back into the woods on my stomach. With my arms shivering and teeth chattering, I slowly made my way around to the other side of the campsite and approached again from a different angle.
To stay in the shadows and out of view, I stopped maybe twenty yards away from where Archie, Dunc, and Rose were being held at gunpoint. Everything was clearer from this angle. More desperate, too. The fire burned bright, launching firework sparks high into the air, aiming for stars and brittle trees.
Rose was closest to where I was. She sat with her back against the stack of firewood and her knees curled close to her chest. Everything she wore was filthy, her sweatshirt torn, her shorts smeared with dirt and blood. A welt swelled beneath her left eye, raw and shiny, and her short hair was a matted mess.
I couldn’t take it, to see her like that. Stupidly, I inched forward, all while praying the Preacher wouldn’t see me. I didn’t have to worry, though; his attention was focused on the other man with the gun and, more than anything, Archie. Imperious, insolent Archie. With his eyes sharp and his jaw tensed, he looked more alive in that moment than I’d ever seen him, facing down his own death.
“You know you’re not going to kill us all,” he was saying. “You’re not that fucking stupid. So just let us go.”
“You need to keep your mouth shut, son,” said the second man, and I finally got a look at his face. He was older than the Preacher, it seemed, shorter and heavier, too, but there was enough in his sharp chin and black hair and glittering blue eyes to convince me they were brothers. And maybe the more rational of the two. The Preacher paced around the dead woman, before rearing back and kicking Archie in the face.
Archie rose up to lunge at him, but the Preacher’s brother was there in a second with his rifle. He held it to Archie’s head.
Rose closed her eyes.
“Fuck!” Dunc yelped. “Fucking just sit still already, Arch. Come on.”
A baleful look simmered in Archie’s eyes, but he settled back down. Wiped blood from his nose.
The Preacher picked up his own gun from the card table that was propped up close to the fire and stared into the woods, not far from where I hid. “Where’s that other kid you were with? The tall, skinny one with all those moles on his neck.”
Well, that wasn’t a very flattering description, but I knew he meant me.
“I don’t know where he is,” Dunc said. “That guy’s not my problem.”
“You sure? You just happened to figure out who we were all on your own? That kid knew something about us. I know he did.” He turned to his brother. “That bitch of yours told him.”
“Maggie’s no bitch.”
“We don’t know who any of you are,” Dunc said. “I told you that. We were just screwing around.”
The Preacher stood right in front of him, rage barely controlled. “You shot my Fleur because you were screwing around?”
“It was an accident! You scared the shit out of us coming at us like that. What were we supposed to do?”
Shut up, Dunc, I thought. Just shut your fucking mouth.
The Preacher was incredulous. “So you thought you’d show up here armed in the middle of the goddamn night and we’d sit you down for a drink?”
“No.” Dunc’s voice twisted into a whine. “That’s not how it was.”
“Then why don’t you tell me how it was.”
I crept a few feet closer to Rose, hoping she’d notice me. Her eyes remained half closed and glazed over. Like she was willing herself out of the situation she’d found herself in.
I took a chance. I whispered her name. “Rose.”
There was no response.
“Rose,” I said again, and this time she heard me. Sweat glistened on her forehead, and I caught the moment of recognition. An intangible thing—she threw something back at me without moving a muscle, a spark of hope, or a flare of danger. Whatever it was, it was clear as day.
I pressed my finger to my lips and racked my brain for what to do. The only action that came to me was the one I’d seen in movies: jumping in front of the guns, absorbing a hail of bullets while the others scattered and ran for freedom. In truth, there was a draw to martyrdom—if I were to die, I’d be remembered fondly. That was worth something, wasn’t it?
I pushed onto my hands and knees and tensed my shoulders. Then I said a brief prayer, and I don’t care if that sounds hypocritical or cowardly or whatever. I’m only telling you the truth.
That’s when I went for it. I jumped to my feet. I opened my mouth to shout.
27.
THE PAIN CAME down swift and immediate. The second I moved, something cracked against the back of my skull, snarling the nerves at the base of my neck. My whole brain stem, probably. I crumpled in an instant, hitting the ground hard before flopping over onto my back. With a groan I looked up, only to see a scowling face staring back at me, along with the barrel end of a carbine.
Maggie.
I said nothing and neither did she. Instead she gave a jerk of her head. She wanted me to get up and I tried. I really did. But my legs wouldn’t work. I lay there gasping, but Maggie indulged me with her patience, waiting until the numbness in my legs faded enough, and I was able to crawl to my feet and limp to where the others sat.
Archie snorted when he saw me, making me want to reach out and kill him myself. Instead I collapsed on the ground between the other two. I snuck a glance at Dunc, who stared straight ahead, his cheeks pale and his jaw trembling. But Rose, I couldn’t look at. I’d failed her.
The Preacher sidled over to loom above me. He looked me up and down just as deliberately as he had that afternoon. Only there was no hostility in his gaze at the moment. Just curiosity.
Maybe a touch of amusement.
“Hello, Benjamin,” he said.
I glared up at him. “I already told you. My name’s not Benjamin.”
“Then what is it?”
“Bennett.”
“Well, Bennett, you came to save your friends, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Even though they attacked us?”
“Yes.”
“You know, and I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you don’t seem very well equipped to handle that job. Perhaps you should’ve brought your photographer friend. She seemed smart.”
I didn’t answer, but from where she stood by the fire, Maggie called out, “Don’t underestimate that one, Elvin. He’s a killer, you know.”
He looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“Kid killed his stepfather when he was little. Shot him right in the head.”