I flex my fingers over the gun, trying to get used to the feel of it.
“This’ll work,” he says and lifts a small piece of wood in the air. He takes a step toward me then grabs his left shoulder with his right hand. He stands there a moment, a dazed look on his face, before he crumples to the ground, hitting it with a thud.
I race to where he is. “Ethan! Ethan!”
Shaking him does nothing. He’s out. Completely unconscious.
Oh my God!
Did he hit his head? I feel around but nothing, no blood, no bumps. I gauge the distance back to the camp and decide to run for help. It’s close to dark and if I wait much longer, it will be too hard to find him here on the ground.
I jump up and slam into something hard but warm. Hands form steel bands around my upper arms and the face I hoped and prayed never to see again comes into focus in front of my eyes.
Thomas.
Rules for disappearing
by Witness Protection prisoner #18A7R04M:
Be paranoid. The best way for the bad guys not to get you is to think the bad guys are always just about to get you.
New rule by Anna Boyd:
Paranoia isn’t enough.
throw up on his shoes. Not a lot but enough that he pushes me down to the ground and shakes the chunks off into the dead leaves.
“If you scream, I’ll kill him,” Thomas says in a controlled voice.
Ethan is still knocked out a few feet away. “What did you do to him?” I ask.
The gun in my hand is useless without the bullets. I search the ground to see if I can find where they fell out of his hand.
Thomas uses a stick to scrap off the last bit of puke from his running shoes. “Tranquilizer dart. He’ll be unconscious for a few hours.”
He uses a hard, clipped tone that’s different from the one that reeled me in when I thought he was a federal agent. And his movements are different. Everything about him is.
“Why are you here?”
He snatches Ethan’s gun out of my hand and puts it in his pocket. “You involved the U.S. Marshals Service when you shouldn’t have.”
“Me! You sent the flowers. And brought the journal back. It’s your fault they’re involved, not mine.”
He crouches down in front of me, his face just inches from mine. “Keep your voice down.”
My mouth snaps closed. Despite the heavy coat, a chill races through my body. I look at Ethan and watch the slow rise and fall of his chest. Thank God he’s breathing.
“Are you…you going to…to…to kill me?” I stutter out.
“Not if you do exactly as I say.” Thomas stalks toward Ethan and kneels beside him, while I scramble to throw myself across his body.
“Don’t hurt him!” I scream.
Thomas grabs my face, squeezing my cheeks until tears form in my eyes. He pushes me off Ethan and I fall back on the ground.
Flipping Ethan over, he pulls a zip tie from his coat pocket and binds Ethan’s wrists. Tears stream down my face. My heart races and I feel clammy. My mind is churning—what do I do…what do I do…. I’ve never been so scared in all my life.
Thomas finishes with Ethan and turns back to me. “Stand up.”
