Page 56 of Fifth
The boulders gave way to a slope of loose shale. Stones slid underfoot and clattered like broken plates, every step threatening to announce them. Locus angled for the path that made the least noise and slowed his stride to one she could match. Halfway down, aspotlight flared outside the fence and swept a blade of white across the slope. They flattened against the rock. The beam skimmed past, then wheeled back and locked on their position.
“Down!” a man outside yelled. “There!”
“Run,” Locus said. He didn’t shout. He didn’t needto.
They ran. Shale bit her feet and rolled under her toes. The spotlight chased. Bullets cracked slate and whined away. Dust exploded at her calves. Locus cut hard right and the light overshot. They dove behind a narrow fold. The beam swept back and stalled on the empty slope. Men argued outside the fence, each certain where he’d last seen them. Aradio squawked. The light driftedaway.
She rolled onto her back and stared at a ragged patch of sky. Her chest heaved. Laughter bubbled up, broken andwild.
Locus leaned over her, blocking the sky. Shadow and fire. “Hannah.”
“I’m okay.” She dragged a hand over her face, smearing mud. “I’m okay. Ithought I was about to collapse, but you kept me moving until I could hit the ground safely.”
“That is the correct order.”
“Smartass.”
His mouth edged up. He sank to a knee and pulled her up with a hand under her arm. When she stood he didn’t let go. He slid that same hand to the back of her neck and held her there for one long breath, his forehead almost touching hers. His skin burned hotter than night. She could’ve stayed there if forever didn’t have teeth.
Shouts rose again. New ones. Closer. The loudspeaker crackled, then the headman’s voice rolled thin across the preserve.
“Clock’s ticking,” he crowed. “They do love a chase, boys. Keep ‘em moving. Ten thousand for the head shot. Twenty if you bring me the alien’s heart still beating.”
Chapter 17
HANNAH’S STOMACHlurched. Locus’s hand tightened on hers, steadying with a squeeze.
“Let him talk,” he said. “It makes him careless.”
Light bloomed ahead and they slid into a culvert and crouched under vines. The creek ran black in a narrow channel. Voices moved above on the road, searching the ditch. None lookeddown.
Locus tapped her wrist and pointed downstream. She nodded. They ran crouched along the shadow line. The culvert ended in a five-foot drop. He hopped down and turned, hands up. “Jump.”
“I can climb,” she protested.
“Jump. Now.”
She jumped. His hands caught her waist and lifted her as if she weighed nothing. Instinct made her clutch his shoulders, his skin hot and slick beneath her fingers. He lowered herunhurriedly until her feet touched ground, steady as stone. For a moment he didn’t letgo.
“I need you alive,” he said, his voice edged with something more than command.
“I plan on it.” Her reply came steady, her gaze locked tohis.
“Good.” He lingered a heartbeat too long before stepping back, and when he did, the sudden rush of cold between them seemed sharper than wire tearingskin.
Shots cracked behind. The men had found the culvert. Aflare screamed up and burst, washing the channel in harsh silver. Locus pulled her with him and they lunged for deeper shadows.
The forest inhaled them. Trees rose older and straighter here, their trunks like pillars. Leaf litter softened underfoot, damp earth drawing smoke away. The roar of the crowd thinned, giving way to the indifferent sounds of thewild.
Her body moved past burn into rhythm, that place where she would keep going until she dropped. Locus caught her when she stumbled. Then he let her set the pace, adjusting by inches when her steps shortened. He didn’t ask if she could keep up. He expected it. She rose to meet that expectation.
They topped a high ridge. Below, floodlights cut a long swath. Men stood in a half circle with rifles and bats, grinning like bullies with bigger toys. Beyond them, the fence rose high with razor wire curled like a crown. The gate stood wide. Atrap dressed as a welcome.
“They want us to run for that,” she said, heart hammering at the obvious trap. The gate gaped like a dare, the men below waiting for them to make a mistake.
“Affirmative.” His voice carried no doubt, only assessment.
“We can’t.” She couldn’t keep the edge of fear from her tone. Her mind raced with the image of rifles snapping up, of being annihilated before they reached the fence.
