Breathing hard, still holding the shotgun, Hallie stared down at the taller man. She thought he was unconscious rather than dead. She prodded him cautiously with the toe of one boot and nodded in satisfaction when he didn’t move. Satisfied he wasn’t going to be bothering her anytime soon, she turned to Stocky and immediately looked away. He was dead. He’d taken a full shotgun blast to the back of his head, and there wasn’t much left of it. Hallie tried not to think about how much of Stocky’s blood, bone and possibly brain matter was on her.
More importantly, the shot would have drawn attention and there was at least one other person out in the forest besides her and Girard. They were not going to be happy when they found a body. She scrambled away from the dead man and theunconscious one, diving into the nearest shrub as the best hiding place available.
Not a moment too soon. Shouts of surprise, alarm and anger rose up around her. Her heart sank. There was more than one person out there. At least three more, if she had to guess.
Another pair of men, dressed in similar worn, stained clothing, and also carrying weapons, ran past her hiding spot, stopping when they reached Stocky’s body. They were another pair of mis-matched men, one shorter and broader with a shock of almost white blond hair, the other taller and thinner with vivid red hair.
One of them spat out a curse that made Hallie’s brows lift. She hadn’t heard that particular one before now. It sounded impossible.
“Idiot shot Spike,” the taller man, with the red hair, said, nudging the unconscious man’s leg with his boot. “Then, what, fainted? Idiot.”
“Then where’s his gun?” the shorter man asked, bright blond hair catching the light as he shook his head. He crouched by the unconscious man. “He’s been hit on the head.”
“What?” the taller man also crouched down.
Hallie tensed. They were both distracted, their attention on the man on the ground. She could take one or both of them out before they knew she was there. Her fingers tightened on the shotgun in her hand, and the image of what was left of Stocky’s head filled her mind, nausea rising. She couldn’t do it. The men hadn’t threatened her. Not yet. And she hadn’t meant for anyone to die. She changed her grip on the shotgun so she could use it as a club, and came to her knees, ready to move.
Just as she was preparing to fling herself forward and try and take out the two men, heavy footsteps marched past her. She held her breath, freezing in place.
Another two men moved out of the forest, their attention on the group in front of them, rather than on their surroundings, which was just as well, otherwise Hallie was sure she would have been spotted.
“What’s going on?” one of the newcomers asked, as though he fully expected and was entitled to an answer. He had dull brown skin and a patchy beard, with a slender silver scar running down one side of his face, just missing his eye. The other man with him was of similar build and appearance - enough that Hallie thought they could be related - but without the scar.
“Spike’s dead,” the blond man who’d been crouched by the body answered. Spike seemed like a nick-name of some kind. It was probably kinder than the mental name of Stocky that Hallie had given to him in their brief encounter. The blond man, who Hallie decided to nickname Blondie, got to his feet. “He’s dead, Vinny.”
“Looks like Shorty here shot him,” the other man, who Hallie mentally named Red, added, getting to his feet as well. Shorty. Hallie almost snorted. Of course a group of armed men would call the tallest one Shorty.
The scarred man, who must be Vinny, scowled at both of them, transferring his glare to the body and the unconscious man. “Where’s Shorty’s gun?”
“Haven’t found it yet,” Red answered promptly.
“Found our unwanted visitor yet?” Vinny asked.
“No, not yet,” Red answered, apparently not noticing the sarcastic bite to Vinny’s voice.
“I can see that, you fool,” Vinny said. He was angry. Even at the short distance and with his back to her, Hallie could tell that. But he had damped down his anger, and, in Hallie’s experience, anyone who could control their emotions like that was very dangerous. A chill ran over her skin. He was the one in charge.Of this group, at least, and the one to look out for. “Get back to searching. And don’t come back until we’ve found him.”
“Sir,” Blondie said, and took a step away from the body. He paused as Red didn’t move.
Red was frowning, lips moving silently, as if he was having some kind of internal debate with himself. Hallie found herself wondering just what he was thinking about, almost in spite of herself. She should be more concerned about how she was going to get out of her current situation, but the expression of earnest thought on Red’s face held her still.
“What?” Vinny demanded, still impatient, still angry, and still in control of himself. “Wasn’t I clear enough?”
“I was just wondering, boss, if he really is a Conclave Investigator, like he said, do we, I mean, should we really be trying to nab him? Isn’t that going to stir up trouble?”
“There’s already trouble. And thinking is not your job. The governor will want to see him, whether he’s telling the truth of not, so that’s what we’re going to arrange. Got it? Now, move it.”
Red still didn’t look convinced, but he did move away, along with Blondie, leaving Vinny and his perhaps-brother standing near the body. Hallie held her breath, mind working. So, these were the governor’s men. From the way they talked, Vinny was in charge of this group. And there had been some interaction with Girard before the shooting had started. Enough that Girard had told them he was a Conclave Investigator. And they’d still shot at him.
“He’s not wrong,” the perhaps-brother said, in a quiet voice, designed to carry only to Vinny. “Conclave means a lot of trouble.”
“I know. But Jonah will still want to see him. You know that,” Vinny said. He surprised Hallie with a reasonable, calm tone, and she felt another trail of apprehension cross her skin. A man with a violent past - as witnessed by the scar on hisface - but who was also capable of rational thought. That was a very dangerous combination indeed. And he’d given her another name to file away. Jonah. From the way Vinny was talking, Jonah was someone in charge. Perhaps the governor himself? It made sense.
“I do know,” the unnamed man said. There was something in his voice that caught Hallie’s attention. Vinny might be in charge of this particular group, but that whatever-it-was in the perhaps-brother’s voice suggested to Hallie that he might be just as close to Jonah as Vinny was. Which made them both dangerous.
She focused on staying as still as she could and trying to breathe silently as the two men headed off into the forest, in a different direction to Blondie and Red.
Leaving Hallie with an unexpected opportunity and a tricky problem.
