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Fine, it was just a thought. He won’t do that. Not unless he has to. If he has to, then he will, and he’ll watch the life fade from their eyes—

No.

Bringer of mercy. Stick with that.

As he stalks through the forest, he listens. The big guy had been screaming, but now he’s gone silent. If he’s dead, that just leaves the chick with the braid, and she has to make noise sooner or later.

The thunderstorm has passed, and it’s like there’d never been one, with the forest floor dry, leaves crackling if he doesn’t watch his step. The woman won’t be careful. If she’s within earshot, she’ll have heard the big guy calling her name and she’ll go to him. Which is a very stupid thing to do, but these aren’t clever people. They aren’t survivors, like him. They have soft bellies, easily exploited, and instead of running the other way, the woman will go to the guy she’s been glued to since Raymond arrived.

“Henry?”

It’s her. The woman. Raymond goes still and picks up the crackle of leaves as she barrels heedlessly through the forest.

“Henry? I know I heard you over here.”

Speaking of stupid … She’s not even in the right place. The screams came from off to his left, and she’s up ahead.

He ducks behind a tree. Then he peeks out and spots her moving slowly, looking around, still calling for what’s-his-name.

Okay, he knows the guy’s name—can’t forget it when she keeps shouting it—but it’s immaterial. All their names are. The girl. The big guy. The woman.

He adjusts his grip on the knife and slips to the next tree. She’s circling like a chicken with its head cut off, just moving in circles, bleating that name.

He eyes a massive tree trunk. If he can get to it …

There, she has her back to him. He darts to one tree and then to the bigger one. Once there, he lifts the knife and takes a slow step while she faces in the other direction—

A huge figure lunges from behind the tree, grabbing his knife arm, and before Raymond even realizes what’s happening, he’s no longer holding the knife. He’s rising into the air, feet dangling, as he looks down into a broad face.

The big guy doesn’t say a word. His lips are pressed together, as if he won’t say a word, won’t give Raymond the satisfaction. Then he flings Raymond into the air.

Raymond lands hard on his back, skidding across the ground. He starts to push up, only to have the woman kick him.

Kick him in the side of the head.

The shock of that reverberates even more than the blow. She kicked him in the head. The frumpy woman with her oversized sweatshirt and her messy braid and her ratty sneakers. The one who’d been wandering aimlessly, bleating for help only moments ago.

It’d been a trap. What was that bird? A killdeer. It hobbles along, shrieking and waving its broken wing to trick you. Only the bird is luring you away from its nest, and this woman was luring him into a trap.

She pulls back to kick him again, and he grabs for her leg, but she sees it coming and dances away before his fingers can do more than skim the denim. Then she rushes in and kicks—not at his head but at the leg his monster bit earlier. Her sneaker slams into the spot, and he howls, and the look on her face is such vicious satisfaction that his gut goes cold.

She means to hurt him. Really hurt him. This nobody he’d pass on a street without a second glance.

As he scrambles backward, his leg on fire, she scoops up the knife and walks toward him.

“Brave of you,” she says, her upper lip curled. “Going after the weakest first. The smallest. The youngest. The one in shock, having just watched her boyfriend die.”

“I set her free.”

She stops, and for a second, he thinks she’s going to see the wisdom of his words. But she only stares.

“I killed her quick,” he says. “Mercifully.”

“Is that what you’re telling yourself?” she says as she resumes her advance. “That you did Noemi a favor? Well, I’m going to do you one. Save you from a life of needing to murder people. Is that okay?”

“W-what?”

“Is it okay?” She says the words slowly, like he’s stupid or something. “Do you consent to being set free?” She raises the knife. “I promise to make it quick.”