Page 54 of Fifth
“How do you know?”
He tipped his head toward a jumble of cans. “They used what they had.”
“Can we go over?”
“Affirmative. But not here.” He pointed where the wire sagged near a post. “There.”
They crossed low, every step placed with care. Asoft scrape sounded from the loft. Hannah froze. Locus’s head turned. Ahunter lay along a beam, bow drawn. The man had patience. He’d been waiting for them to hit the wire and jerk in panic. Locus scooped a nail from the dirt and flicked it up so fast she barely saw his hand move. The nail struck the bow hand. The arrow thudded into a rotted board. Locus leapt, caught a beam with one hand, rose like a machine. The fight above was brief and ugly. The body hit the floor with a wet sound. Locus dropped a breath later and pressed a second knife into herpalm.
“Two is better,” hesaid.
“I’m getting spoiled,” she said, hearing the edge of hysteria init.
“Not spoiled. Armed.” He pointed to the sag. “Step there.”
She did, lifting her knee high and planting her foot past the line. His hand cupped her hip and guided her through, the contact so intimate it made her teeth ache. She told herself he was just making sure she cleared it. Her body didn’t listen.
Outside again, the barn fell behind. The ground rose, then dipped into a shallow pool of old rain where cattails leaned like tired soldiers. Frogs sang once, then went silent. Her feet slid in mud and went out from under her. She slammed to her knees and hands and bit down on a cry. Cold slime soaked her skin. Locus hauled her up and pressed her into the dark against a big stone, his chest to her back, his forearm across her ribs to hold her still.
Footsteps moved through the cattails a breath later. Men. Slow. Listening. One swept a flashlight low. The beam slid across where her body had been. The men paused, then movedon.
Locus’s forearm stayed across her ribs. His breath warmed the back of her neck. The ache that rolled through her belly had nothing to do withfear.
“Tell me if I’m heavy,” he said against herear.
“You’re not. I’m not made of glass.”
“I know. You are made of steel.”
Her throat burned. She let herself lean back into him like a secret, then straightened. “We have to move.”
“Affirmative.”
They angled away from the cattails and into cottonwoods that creaked in the breeze. Trunks white and ghost-pale. Bark peeling. Leaves whispering. Far right, anew sound rose, the clatter and hiss of some unearthly creature.
“Oh God.”
“No, this is good,” Locussaid.
“How is that sound good? What is it?”
“Skinners,” Locus said, low and steady. “Very large insect-like trackers. Men will use them to find us. The creatures follow the taste of the wind. We will follow water instead.” He pointed to a rock shelf ahead where a darker strip cut the ground. “There. Acreek.”
“Dry?”
“Wet enough.”
They ran for it. The first Skinner crashed into the trees behind and hit the mud by the cattails. The sound changed, bright with joy. Another joined it. Hunters shouted, eager for easy tracking. Hannah’s lungs burned. The creek bed opened in front of them, shallow and slick. Locus went first and pulled her down the bank. Cold water took her calves. Mud sucked at herfeet.
They splashed hard through the first ten yards to cloud the water, then went still and placed each step on stone where they could. The Skinners hit the cattail mud and lost the line, then found it again and swung left. Aflashlight jittered through the cottonwoods above, far enough not to see them, close enough to be a risk.
“Hands on me,” Locus said. “If you fall, pull me down. Iwill hold.”
“I’m not going to fall,” she said, and immediately stumbled. Her fingers clawed into muscle. He grunted once and steadied themboth.
The creek curved under a lip of limestone. Locus stopped and pressed her under the ledge. Water dripped and ran cold down her neck. She shivered and pressed closer. He made a sound deep in his throat that didn’t belong in a hunt, and fora moment the world narrowed to that sound and the slick heat behind her breastbone.
Headlamps bounced close. Skinners rattled and hissed. Men cursed when the creek broke scent. One slid down the bank and splashed into the water a short distance away, light sweeping. It reached the lip and flared as it hit spray. Locus’s hand covered the back of Hannah’s head, his body a shield.
