Page 73 of Uncharted

“Reno,” I explained patiently. “It rained the other day, pretty hard, actually.”

“Right.”

“And this area is low compared to the others. So it would have been a muddy mess down this way, but it’s dried out over the past couple of days.”

Reno blinked and then glanced down at the ground. “And that…was barely touched by the dirt.”

“Yeah,” I said softly, my eyes sweeping the area. It would be easy to say I was just hyping myself up into a frenzy and imagining there was something close, but I wasn’t sold on it. Even if it was just paranoia, it was better to listen to the voice of paranoia if it was directing you toward safety than to prove it wrong and risk stumbling into danger. “We need to head back. Tell Mav and Xander; let them handle it.”

He patted his walkie. “Could tell them now.”

“No,” I said quietly. “I…would prefer we didn’t announce it to the whole woods.”

“Great, you’re worried,” he said with a frown. “I didn’t realize I’d hate you being worried about something, but I fucking hate it.”

“Cautious,” I corrected him. “Just…let’s go.”

“Right,” he said, his eyes watching as my hand came to rest on the gun on my hip and stayed there. “And let’s just…hope for no surprises while we’re at it. I hate surprises.”

We turned; there was a crunch behind us, and I closed my eyes when I heard a rough voice. “Well, hope you’re used to disappointment.”

“Goddammit,” I muttered.

Another voice, this one behind me and to the right. “Hand off the gun, my new friend.”

“Somehow,” I said slowly as I moved my hand away from the holster, “I don’t think we’re gonna end up best friends.”

The first voice piped up. “Huh, he’s smarter than he sounds.”

“Eat shit,” I heard Reno spit, and I shot him a warning look. It was perfectly fine, if a little embarrassing for him to defend me when people insulted me, but it wasn’t a good idea when the people in question were armed and dangerous.

“Cute,” the second voice said. “Now turn around.”

I really, really didn’t want to turn around. Turning around meant seeing their faces, and seeing their faces meant they were planning to leave us somewhere in the woods to rot with a few bullet holes. Except if we didn’t turn around, we were going to end up with bullet holes anyway. At least turning around, there was some chance of making it through.

My heart sank when we turned and the two men were coming from their respective hiding spots. One had blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and a smirk on his face; the other was dark-haired, but it was buzzed down to black peach fuzz. Ponytail was the one who’d referred to me as his friend, and Buzz Cut was the one who’d insulted me. Wasn’t sure how that was useful information, but I knew from experience that any information could be unexpectedly helpful at the weirdest times.

“You should have minded your own business and ignored that tickling in your gut,” Ponytail taunted. “And none of this would have happened. Now we’ve got to deal with you.”

“Shut up,” Buzz Cut told his friend, and I immediately kept my interest off my face when Ponytail sneered but did as he was told. “You two. Behave yourselves and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get through this, got it?”

“Sure,” I said, glancing at Reno. “Right?”

“Right,” Reno said, and bless him, he kept his voice steady even though I knew his heart had to be pounding furiously in his chest, his mind whirling.

“Keep going this way then,” he said, pointing his shotgun behind him. We were clearly meant to walk ahead of them. “And no talking.”

“I figured as much,” I said, glancing at Ponytail, who was still smirking at us.

We did as they said. Not for a minute did I believe they intended to let us get out of there alive, not after having seen their faces. Ponytail had already given the endgame away, which was precisely why Buzz Cut was so grumpy with him. The smart thing to do when you had people you were intending to kill was not to tell them they were going to die. Prisoners who had hope of survival were usually more obedient; those who thought they were going to die anyway might take greater risks hoping to survive.

Okay, so that meant Buzz Cut was not only in charge, but had a lot more self-control and experience than Ponytail. He was the one we’d have to keep an eye on because he had too much cunning and knowledge. Ponytail was dangerous because he clearly enjoyed what they were doing, and planning to do, but he already gave away that he was cocky and impulsive. Also dangerous when mixed with his clear love of murder, but it also meant he wasn’t as steady as his buddy was. Good to know.

Hopefully.

“So, uh, how long y’all plannin’ to walk us around?” I asked carefully, sounding nervous but trying to keep myself in control.

“Shut up, you heard the man,” Ponytail growled at me and if it wouldn’t have given me away, I would have smiled. Yep, impulsive and arrogant alright; both practically dripped from him. “Keep walking.”