He stumbles forward, barely catching himself from falling, as a sharp exhale escapes him.
I gasp in amazement.
But his fingers have already released that bowstring.
The arrow flies, zipping through the air.
For a split second, I think he’s missed—that maybe the impact of that rock has thrown off Leo’s aim enough that he launched the arrow into the water.
Then Deborah screams.
40
Deborah crumples to her knees beside Imani. Her cries cut off in a sharp gasp. From what I can see, the arrow has buried itself in her left shoulder, and blood is already spreading across her white tank top in dark stains.
“Oh, god!” Pam wails, dropping beside Deborah, frantic.
Macy stumbles in front of the group, as if to protect them, but she’s shaking so violently I can barely believe she’s still upright.
Leo teeters where he stands, clearly dazed, blood streaming down the nape of his neck. But when he whips his head around to look at Allie, his eyes glitter in the moonlight with a rage that makes my stomach twist.
He nearly loses his balance on the steep trail, then recovers. He turns back to the women on the beach and reaches for another arrow.
My eyes follow his every movement.
I clock the fact that he has only one arrow left in his quiver.
“Run!” I scream, feeling the words rip through me before I even know what I’m going to say. Inside my head, Parker’s voice screams the same word at the same time.
Pam and Macy startle at the sound of my voice. I rush forward, pointing toward the river behind them, yelling all the way. “There’s a kayak tied around that boulder! Get it! Get out of here, now!”
I have no idea if any of the women can get into that kayak quickly enough to escape Leo.
But if even one of us gets away alive, it’s better than none.
Leo takes another lurching step toward the women on the beach, holding the nocked arrow at his shoulder like he’s ready to let it fly. Then he seems to think better of it and abruptly changes course—barreling back up the path toward me and Allie instead.
Terror zings through me at the sight of his bulky form rushing up the path, but Allie and I are already scrambling, gathering more rocks. She stands, cranking her arm back to send a second rock flying—at the same moment Leo lets the final arrow sail through the air.
Adrenaline floods my system with a familiar, sickening electricity, seeming to slow everything down. The pain in my aching arms, my bruised body, my burning lungs, disappears. I whirl around and dive toward Allie, trying to shove her out of the arrow’s path. But the time warp is an illusion.
That desperate, fleeting rush of adrenaline races through me a fraction of a second slower than that arrow.
And it flies true.
Allie’s arm is still cocked back, rock gripped in her fist, when the steel tip punches into her chest.
The impact drives her backward like a rag doll. The rock tumbles weakly from her hand.
She looks down at the arrow protruding from beneath her collarbone. Blood wells up in dark bubbles around the wound. She makes a confused, gasping wheeze, her face screwed up with shock. Then her knees buckle and she goes down hard, her body sliding on the loose dirt.
I force my gaze away from her, already yanking back my arm to throw my own rock. I won’t miss this time.
But Leo isn’t coming this way anymore. He’s dropped the bow, spun on his heel, and is sprinting in the other direction.
He races back down the trail toward the two figures lying next to each other on the sand—and the two others, who are chest-deep in the water, freeing the impossibly small kayak from the boulder and pulling it against the current.
“Hurry!” I scream uselessly, already knowing Leo is going to reach them before they can get away.
