righted herself, and kept going until she saw that somehow, though she hadn’t heard him, he was in the middle of the street, limping toward her, his left hand holding his jaw, his right hand holding the gun, which was pointed at her.
The sight of him startled her. The fire’s roar and the sirens’ blare masked his footsteps. She stared at him. Assessed him. Given the way he was limping due to the buck that had rammed him, and how he was cradling his jaw, it was clear that he was hurt. If he shot, would he hit her? How good was his aim?
Does it matter? All it takes is one shot. One lucky shot and I’m finished. He could pop off five shots, four could miss, but one might land in the middle of my forehead. Don’t be stupid.
He staggered a bit to his right. She noticed how much blood was on his jacket, how much blood still ran from his nose and mouth, and wondered who was weaker? Him or her?
There are other ways to do this.
What other ways?
Wait him out. See what happens.
She watched his hand dip a bit. Was the gun getting heavy?
He’s not going to wait to see what happens. He’s running out of time himself.
She was about to smash the stick through the window in an effort to sound the truck’s alarm when the laser cut the distance between them and wavered over her heart. She looked down at her chest, saw that the beam didn’t leave the area between her breasts, and then slowly she looked back at him.
He was smiling at her and she thought it was the ugliest, most terrifying smile she’d seen. It was the bloody smile of a monster lifting its head from a fresh kill. It was a smile that reeked of the madness of a monster.
He lowered his free hand into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He jangled them at her. Then he did it again, harder, as if to underscore the idea that he’d won.
Jangle, jangle.
“Get on the other side.”
Sometimes, it was difficult to understand him. He was slurring his words.
He spit and then glared at her.
“I said, get on the other side. You’re going to die for your sins. But not here. We’re getting out of here. You and me. Get in the truck. We’re going for a ride.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
If she got into the truck with him, she knew he’d turn the vehicle around and drive in the other direction, thus skirting the police and the fire department at the other end of the road. He’d drive away from her one hope for safety, he’d pull over, make her get out, and then he’d shoot her dead on the side of the road before he came back to get his friend.
Wherever he was.
“You might as well leave me here,” she said. “I’ve lost a lot of blood. Look at my thigh. Nobody’s going to be able to help me now. Why don’t you just save yourself before they come for you?”
It was a weak argument, but what else did she have at this point?
She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. For reasons she didn’t understand, he looked to his left. Then to his right. Then he did a complete circle, the gun’s laser beam flashed on and he began to point the gun, though not at her.
“Get them away from me, Maria. And put down your gun. Now.”
There was no one there. He was talking to the woman named Maria again. The same woman he spoke to in the woods, who also hadn’t been there then. The look on his face had changed from one of triumph to concern. His brows knitted together. He looked confused and, if she read him correctly, unnerved.
“Get them away from me! Tell them to put down their weapons! I’m not fucking around!”
Was he hallucinating? He had to be. Cheryl took a step back.
“It’s not going to end like this,” he said. “Not like this. No way. Isn’t Ted enough? You set us up. We were looking for her and you led us to that hunter. Now, they’re both dead. Satisfied? You should be. I’m warning you, Maria. Put down your gun and tell the rest to do the same. Do it now, or I’ll send you all to hell again. I’m the Chosen One. This time it will be for good.”
The man who chased her earlier was dead. Somehow, a hunter must