faint, fainter than before, as if the Hunters are moving away.
I go closer to the tents, slowly, looking around all the time.
Then I see someone. Her eyes are on me, wide open, but she’s not seeing anything and as I get closer to her I see there are no glints in her eyes. But I don’t need that to tell me she’s dead: the way she lies, so still, so awkward, says it all. She’s been shot in the head. I only see the wound when I move round her, neat and clean to the back of her skull. A few flies on it. I stare at her face, trying to remember if I’ve seen her before, but I’m not sure. She’s a member of the Alliance, not a Hunter.
I move to a tent. Slowly, silently. I’m still invisible but I don’t want to risk anything.
The tent seems to hold stores: cans, boxes, and blankets are scattered around its broken, collapsed frame. But then I spot someone I do recognize, his body half hidden by the tent canvas. Gus has a bullet hole in his chest. There are ants crawling across him.
And at the next tent I see another body.
And another.
They’re all around.
My heart races. This happened recently, but not that recently. Maybe this morning.
But if it happened this morning and I can hear hissing then . . . I think the Hunters are leaving. They’re leaving but they’re not rushing. They don’t know we’ve arrived. Maybe we can follow them . . .
I move through the camp, trying to locate where the hissing is coming from. Then I see a wooden building, a hut: the prison? I move closer, slow and steady. The door is broken down. Is Annalise in here?
I lean inside the hut.
Empty except for chains. They’re unlocked. Annalise must have been kept here. Did she go invisible and escape? More likely they have her.
Then I hear a noise, footsteps behind me, and I turn to see Nesbitt racing through the camp, clearly not caring about the noise he makes. He looks panicked. Behind him in the distance are Gabriel and the others, fanning out through the trees.
I become visible and say to Nesbitt, “I think the Hunters have only just left.”
“Have you seen Van?”
“No.”
“She—”
An explosion fills the air behind Nesbitt. He cowers and as he goes down I see Kirsty fly through the air, her body cartwheeling high and then falling to the ground.
I’ve crouched down too.
The sudden noise slowly drifts away. I look around for Hunters. Listen for them. Nothing.
Celia shouts, “Booby traps! Don’t touch anything.”
Donna is a pace or two from Kirsty’s body and she looks toward me. Her face is pale. Gabriel joins them and bends down. He calls to Celia, “Kirsty’s dead.”
Nesbitt is already moving again. The ground is bare here, and there are numerous footprints: Hunter boot prints.
I follow Nesbitt through the camp and into the trees beyond. I ask him, “How many?”
“Lots. Twenty, maybe more.” His voice is different, shaky as he adds, “They’re dragging someone, maybe two people. Prisoners. Or wounded.”
We’re moving away from the camp now, through the trees, and Nesbitt speeds up to a jog and then slows and he groans.
I see past him to the body lying on the ground. Her hair is glistening with fine raindrops. Her eyes are open, the sapphire blue is still strong, but there are no glints in them. Her skin is pale. Her stomach is a mass of blood.
“Van!”
Nesbitt stumbles forward and I grab him in case he goes too close.
She’s holding her cigarette case in her hand and I know he wants to take it but I say, “Don’t touch her, Nesbitt. They might have booby-trapped her body too.”
He sits on the ground by her.
I can’t hear hissing anymore. The Hunters are leaving but they still can’t be too far ahead.
“Nesbitt, I think they have Annalise. We can still catch them if we keep going.”
Nesbitt lets out a faint groan that gets louder and louder as he gets to his feet, roaring. He sets off fast, his rage taking him over. And I can tell he’s struggling to keep his breath, but on we go. He’s panting and grunting as we reach a small stream, and he leaps over it and goes uphill, through thin trees until we reach an open scrubby area and he stops. He’s panting hard and I realize he’s crying too.
“That way,” he says, pointing.
I go fast, Nesbitt behind me. I don’t think the Hunters