Page 61 of Red

My nerves fade, determination snapping into place.

As I continue to look at the map, I’m a little unsure what the rest of the marks are, though I can guess some are posts. Tugging on a cord, another map rolls out, another version of the camp and the roads that spiderweb to it from the human territory.

The stairs creak, and I shove my phone back into its place. I sling the second map up on its roll. I can study them later on.

Hudson steps through the door and walks over without a rifle slung on his back.

“Aly, our new top marksman—or woman, shall I say.”

I scoff. “I think that might be a bit overselling it.”

“Nonsense. They say you’ve never missed.” He gives me a hungry look, and I realize there is a strong lack of women in this camp.

The back of my hip digs into the marker rail below the whiteboard as I lean backward. Being alone with the man who started this is sending alarms throughout my whole body.

“Well . . . I—”

The door swings open and Tripp walks in, holding two black guns with huge scopes on top of them. I lose a breath and shift away from the wall. Hudson turns to the door and Tripp’s eyes bore into him.

“Tripp, I was just praising our new top shooter.”

“Great, I’m taking her to hunt tonight.” I bypass Hudson to move next to him.

“Excellent.” Hudson’s eyes drop over to me, and I refocus my attention to my target.

“When do we go?” I ask.

“I want to show you how these work, then it’ll be our shift.” Tripp’s smile glows across his entire face. Who could be so happy to go kill the innocent? If only things were different.

I glue a smile to my face and move to rest my shoulder into him. I can pretend.

I can pretend to save my home. I can.

“What’s different compared to the one I used?” I inspect the large scopes but can’t see a thing through either of them.

“Let’s go outside and you’ll see.” We say goodbye to Hudson and step into the night, then move outside of the light shadows of the camp. He hands me one of the guns, and its weight sinks my arms down. “So, what was Hudson actually doing?”

I keep my eyes on the gun.

“It’s probably a good thing you showed up.”

“If he wasn’t in control of this place, I’d have knocked him out the way he looked at you.” Well, I’d prefer if he killed him so this can all stop, but I know it will take more than that.

“I’d be happy if you did.” I lift the gun. “So, why am I holding this?”

“Right. I want you to aim the gun at me.” Tripp starts to walk away.

“What? No way.” I walk toward him instead.

“Aly, there’s no bullet in it and the safety is on. Just do it.” He walks even further. “Come on, please look through the scope.” He raises his voice to be heard.

I adjust my grip and raise the gun up to my shoulder. If there was a bullet, could I pull the trigger? Could I end someone hunting my own? My life before was filled with runs, swims, and books. Pratt’s death can’t be for nothing. I will do this. If not for myself, then for him.

Bringing my eye to the scope, everything has a pink hue around it. I move my eyes to make sure and look again. Tripp is bright, ablaze like the sun.

“What do you think?” I can hear the intrigue in his voice.

“That’s how you hunt them?” My stomach sinks, and I brush snow over where my feet have melted it.