could be headed this way right now. The smart thing to do is get the hell out of here.”
“I agree.” Knox handed the weapon back to Gray and tilted his head toward the trap.
The sniper nodded and stretched out on his stomach at the edge of the drop-off. Using a bent piece of rebar to steady his weapon, he fired off four precise, quiet shots, destroying the motion sensors. Finally, he put three bullets in the power source, disabling the mines.
Nina watched, her mind whirling. The man who’d taught her ambush tactics class at the Franklin Center had been a veteran of three brutal pre-Flare conflicts, each successive one dirtier and nastier than the last. He would have called this trap an inefficient, incomplete use of resources. If Nina had presented this to him, he would have made her not only rebuild it, but start over completely.
“You’re thinking,” Dani muttered. “What is it?”
“Nothing. Just making it better in my head.”
Knox glanced at her, that appraising look back in his eyes. “How would you fix it?”
There was that thrill again. “It’s a greedy trap for greedy people. Which is perfectly serviceable, I guess. There are a lot of those out here.”
He nodded.
Nina could almost hear her teacher’s gruff voice as she continued. “But they could cast a wider net with some recorded audio—cries for help, screams of pain. It wouldn’t deter anyone who just wanted the money, but it would turn the situation into an emergency. Emergencies are good. They make people move faster, pay less attention to safety.” She shrugged again. “Isn’t that what you soldiers spend so much time training to prevent? Tunnel vision?”
“In part, yes.” He turned to stare down into the chasm. “A ticking clock can force a person to take inadvisable risks, no matter how much training they have.”
He spoke with the sharp certainty of personal experience, and it cut. Nina stepped back from the broken edge and held both arms out at her sides. “Let’s go, then. Make your inadvisable risk in teaming up with me pay off.”
“All right.” He gestured south as they turned back to the trucks. “We’ll have to backtrack, but I still want to make it to Kennesaw before dark. The old battlefield is a good place to camp. Raiders don’t like it. People swear it’s haunted.”
Nina smiled. “Let me guess—Captain Garrett Knox is too practical to believe in ghosts.”
“Why?” he asked. “Do you?”
“Yes.” But not the kind he was thinking of. Nina wasn’t afraid of the damned souls from some bitter, long-ago civil war. Even if those phantoms lingered, they had nothing to do with her. They were probably busy reliving their last days of futile conflict, over and over.
She touched the pendant at the hollow of her throat. Her ghosts, the ones she believed in with all her heart, were a little more personal. Closer to home. And she carried them with her always.
* * *
Their rough camp on the haunted battlefield turned out rather cozy.
The picnic area had seen better days. Most of the old wooden tables had succumbed to time, the elements, and the insidious, persistent creep of vegetation. The Silver Devils had camped here a few times over the years, but each time they arrived to find the kudzu they’d previously cut back had wound its way back over grills and around fire pits.
It hadn’t taken long to clear it again, and the stone picnic tables were as sturdy as ever. The hunting had been good tonight, too—barely thirty minutes after Conall and Rafe had disappeared into the woods, they’d returned with two massive wild turkeys.
The scent of the second one roasting still filled the air. The fire in the pit Gray had dug crackled and spit sparks from the green wood, but even that was a boon, as the smoke had driven away the worst of the bugs. Knox’s men were wrapped in their bedrolls, the first hour of his watch had passed in peace, and the instant coffee in his travel mug wasn’t exactly good, but it was hot and much improved by the powdered cream Maya had offered him.
Everything was going according to plan. Everything was goddamn perfect.
The back of his neck still itched like there was a target painted on it.
A twig snapped to his right, and he spun on the bench, his pistol already halfway out of its holster. Nina stood there, a steaming cup in her hand. After a moment, she pointed to her feet. “I did that on purpose,