But all I could hear was my own heartbeat.
And the terrible possibility that Shepherd finally killed him.
Branches whipped against my arms as I pushed toward the tree line.
Then—
another gunshot cracked through the storm.
Closer this time.
I froze.
Somewhere ahead?—
someone groaned.
“Hersh?”
I stumbled downhill through wet brush toward the sound.
Lightning flashed overhead?—
illuminating bodies scattered among the trees.
Three Hollow Men.
Dead.
One slumped against a rock with a knife buried to the hilt in his throat.
Another lay face-first in the mud.
The third?—
had clearly tried to crawl away before bleeding out.
Dear God.
Hersh did this.
A shadow suddenly moved behind me.
Strong arms grabbed my waist hard.
I gasped?—
then nearly collapsed in relief.
“Hersh.”
He spun me instantly against his chest beneath the pouring rain.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” he snapped.
Blood streaked down theside of his face.
Another dark stain spread across his shoulder.
