Page 153 of False Flag

His gaze flicked to her phone, camera lens fixed on him, still livestreaming.

“Give me your phone.”

“Fine.” The word rushed out of her as she thrust the selfie stick at him, jabbing him in the gut with it. He grunted, and she dove forward like a baserunner stealing third and grabbed Gerard’s machete.

Beau hadn’t expected her to move closer, and he definitely didn’t expect her to go on the attack.

She twisted, regaining her feet and putting all her strength into the swing of the blade. Her blow caught him across the chest, opening a long gash.

He let out a low growl and reached for her, and she swung again, slicing open his hand.

Gerard’s problem with the machete hadn’t been because it wasn’t sharp. No. It was better than obsidian.

She landed one more blow to his cheek, then dipped down and picked up the selfie stick with her phone and turned and ran flat out, leaping over roots and dodging branches in the dense forest, hoping she would reach the road before Beau caught up with her.

She ducked and twisted around trees, eyes on her feet. She needed to be careful with the sharp blade, but she wouldn’t dare drop it.

As she ran, she listened for pursuit. It was hard to hear over her own labored breathing while trampling through the forest, but a glance backward showed no sign of Beau.

At last, she reached the side-by-side she and Gerard had abandoned when the road disappeared into thick vegetation, but a search of the vehicle produced no key. Gerard probably had it in his pocket.

Fuck.

Was Beau coming after her, or was he tending to his wounds? He would certainly pursue once he discovered she’d live-streamed his confession to committing the very first Truther attack, followed by killing Gerard Campbell.

Once again, he’d blame her for sending him to prison.

Would he face manslaughter charges? Second-degree murder? It hadn’t been premeditated. But it also hadn’t been self-defense. Not even a little bit.

She checked her phone and saw it had stopped streaming at some point—probably when she used the selfie stick as a sword.

She again studied the forest behind her. No sign of Beau.

Should she walk on the road or take a slower route through the forest? If Beau wasn’t following, then the faster, easier path was her best bet.

She’d been jogging down the road for several minutes when she heard an engine ahead. She ducked into the woods and watched as the vehicle went by, Dahlia at the wheel.

She must’ve caught the livestream. Was she heading up to save Staci?

The idea that Dahlia might cross paths with Beau made Staci step out from her hiding place and chase after the vehicle, shouting for her to stop.

The side-by-side halted, and Staci ran up the hill to the vehicle, too out of breath to speak as she yanked open the door and climbed inside.

“Holy shit. What happened?”

Staci glanced down at her clothes and saw the blood spatters. Then she looked at the machete, which had streaks of red on the blade.

“Staci?”

She finally caught her breath enough to spit out one word. “Machete.”

“I see that. Is he…alive?”

“I think so? But best not to head to the woods to find out.”

Dahlia nodded and put the side-by-side in reverse, executing a ten-point turn on the narrow dirt road. “We need to get to the harbor. I expect Mounties or whoever the fuck they send in Canada to show up soon.”

“Is anyone else on the island with us?”