I was right. Guilt hits hard, and I start forward, needing to check that he’s okay, but as soon as I’m within a few feet, he jerks a huge knife up between us.
“Don’t come any closer!”
I pause, keeping out of reach. The guy looks young, but there isn’t a whole lot else I can make out about him. His hair is flattened to his head with dirt and what looks like blood, his face is filthy and covered in tears, and he’s wearing what looks like my favorite T-shirt.
I watch him, and despite how scared he must be, his grip on the knife is steady.
“What do you want with me?” he demands.
For him to get out of my home would be a start. I slowly run the flashlight over him, trying to work out if there are any other injuries. It’s impossible to tell, and after trying and failing, I slowly lower into a crouch and set the flashlight on the ground.
His eyes don’t leave me as I lift my hands between us.
He pushes back tighter against the wall. “You want to kill me!”
I shake my head quickly.
“I heard you!”
Heardme? The memory of Lynx earlier today saying he’d kill whoever took his knife … Of course he would have witnessed that. Was he sitting here the whole time, watching us box him in and too scared to say anything?
“I want to help you,” I force myself to say, but it comes out in a whisper.
“Don’t lie to me!”
I shake my head again, frustrated that I can’t explain. That I can’t tell him we didn’t know he was here and that Lynx would never harm him. That if he trusts me, I’ll help him get out of here. “I want to help.”
He stands suddenly, one hand flat to the wall behind him, while the other keeps the knife between us. “Get out of my way.”
I stand slowly and step to the side.
He snatches up the flashlight, backing toward where I came in from.
But before he can get there, a low yawl echoes through the space, and when he turns, the flashlight lands on Lynx’s grinning face.
“Well, well, well …” He leers, taking a careful step forward and making the man step back. “What do we have here? A rabbit caught in its den.”
“Don’t come any closer. I’ll use this.”
“Cleaver already knows the taste of my blood. We’re very old friends.”
“I don’t care.” The man’s hold on the knife shakes for the first time. “Just let me pass.”
“No.” The smile slips from Lynx’s face, and in the shadows of the mine, he looks demonic. “You took my things.”
“I want to leave.”
“I can’t let that happen.” And Lynx lifts up his machete. It’s not as thick as the cleaver, but it’s a lot longer, and I can’t pick which one I’d want pointed at me.
All I know is that the look on Lynx’s face confirms it would be whichever one heisn’tholding. But if Lynx scares me and we’re friends, I can’t imagine how the man feels. He let us bury him alive so he wouldn’t have to face Lynx.
It’s on me to help him.
Palms clammy, I set my jaw and step between them both. “Enough.” My voice shakes, and I want to crawl into a hole, but this ismygoddamn home. “No one’s getting hurt.”
“The little mole man is making demands now, is he?”
“I’m serious.” I have to clear the block in my throat. “You won’t hurt him.”
