Page 74 of Uncharted

“Sorry,” I muttered, seeing Reno’s head turn slightly my way at my tone, but I didn’t dare look at him and hoped he wasn’t confused. “Just tryin’ to figure out where we’re goin’ and what’s goin’ on is all. Sorry.”

“We’re going to tuck you away somewhere nice and quiet, and when we’re sure we can move, we’ll go and you two can go on your merry way,” Ponytail said, and I could hear disdain in his voice. I wasn’t sure if Buzz Cut was buying my act in its entirety; he might be smart enough to realize I was thickening my accent on purpose, but I hoped he just thought it was happening because I was nervous. People had a habit of dismissing someone with a thick drawl like that as slow, and that could work to our advantage.

Except I didn’t think they were going to just trot us off to some far-off place and leave us there, though I supposed that would work for their purposes if they made sure we were lost. It wouldn’t be hard to get lost out there, especially because Reno and I had already started drifting into unfamiliar territory, so we were definitely moving toward parts of the forest that were completely foreign to us.

I wasn’t buying it, though. If they were that paranoid about us finding that goddamn wrapper and going back to the outpost, that meant they’d known the outpost was there the whole time and were probably operating on the assumption that’s where we came from. Which meant it wouldn’t be hard for us to be taken seriously by the cops, and the entire area would be quickly covered and their escape ruined.

My right hand flexed in frustration as I considered each possibility: being stranded, or being killed. To operate on the assumption that one being their choice meant leaving us vulnerable to the other. Trying to fight when they would leave us alone could just get us killed. Being complacent and expecting they were going to leave us though meant we would end up quietly walking into a bullet in the back of our heads.

“Hold,” Buzz Cut announced, and I ground to a halt, Reno stopping beside me. “I saw that. Do your friend here a favor and drop your weapon, slowly.”

“Sure,” I said quickly and reached down to unhook the weapon from the holster, moving carefully so they didn’t mistake anything for a threat. His threat was obvious, and I knew if I screwed up, it wouldn’t be me who was shot, but Reno. My life I would risk, but Reno’s? Never. “Drop it?”

“Toss it,” Buzz Cut said. “Behind you, and don’t turn around. Just walk forward a bit and stop.”

“Got it,” I said with that same uneasy tone and did as he said. “There.”

“And now you,” he said to Reno. “Up, over, and toss it behind you.”

“Fine,” Reno said in a tight voice I recognized as full of anger. Everyone had a different reaction to being scared, and it was usually just plain terrified. Reno was apparently one of those people who fell back on being angry. That could be just as dangerous as terror. Anger was just as impulsive as fear, and could be worse because you might make an even worse decision, like attacking when you shouldn’t. It could also give someone clearer thought if they weren’t overwhelmed by the anger, and I hoped Reno was trusting me and not taking it on himself.

“Forward now,” Buzz Cut said, and Reno marched up and stopped at my side.

I waited until I heard rustling and spoke in the lowest voice I could manage, hoping Reno heard every word. “Follow my lead, okay? Trust me.”

“Always,” he said in an equally quiet voice, and despite the shitstorm we were currently at the edge of, I felt an absurd wave of affection for the man. Even with guns aimed at our backs and a bullet destined for our skulls, he didn’t doubt me in the slightest.

Now, the trick was to justify that trust.

“Move!” Ponytail barked from behind us, and I could picture the grin on his face as he ordered us about. “Almost there.”

‘There’ turned out to be a small camp they had made, and my eyes swept the area. The land rose and fell; the lowest I could see was near where they camped, a steep drop into a ravine. Nothing fatal, but someone going down there would have a hard time finding their way out. It also struck me as the perfect place for someone to be dumped if they didn’t want the body to be found for a while.

There was evidence of a fire in the middle of a ring of rocks, and it had been put out properly. Made sense; they were clearly comfortable in the woods, about as comfortable as we were. There were canvas bags next to a large hiking bag, which had probably held their camping supplies. The bags, though, were probably whatever they were peddling back and forth between the States and Canada. Everyone always pictured border drug smuggling at the Mexican border, but there was plenty of it in these woods too, and they were just as dangerous and bloodthirsty when it came to keeping their secrets.

There was murmuring behind us, and then Ponytail’s voice rose louder. “I can fucking handle it, Jesus.”

There was a pause, and Buzz Cut’s voice was cold. “Good. Fuck this up and you’d better hope you die out here, that’s all I’ll say.”

“I know the fucking rules, and I know what happens when you fuck up,” Ponytail snapped back, and I spared a glance over my shoulder. Buzz Cut was walking off toward the woods, something in his hand, and out there, so far from the outpost, the only reliable communication was walkie-talkies, and SAT phones. The first would be too noisy if it accidentally went off, so I was betting on the second, but it could be either.

“On your knees,” Ponytail barked at us. “Six feet apart. Arms up.”

“He’s got a broken arm,” Reno snapped, even as he got to his feet. “He fucking can’t. Idiot.”

“Reno,” I hissed, but it was too late. Ponytail shoved his foot into Reno’s back. The barrel of the shotgun to the back of his head, Ponytail grinned down at him.

“Keep talking, smart ass. We’ll see how smart you are when your brains are there, there, here, there, and all the way over there,” he said, sounding like the very idea was turning him on. Honestly, drug runners weren’t known for picking moral runners, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the guy really was a necrophiliac on top of being a psychopath.

Ugh.

“C-c’mon,” I said nervously. “He’s just scared, please just…don’t.”

Ponytail turned on me and smirked. “Big man, weak spine, eh? That works for me, but guess what, Big Man? I don’t give a fuck. If he can’t keep his mouth shut, I’ll make him blow this barrel like I know he blows you.”

“Fuck off,” Reno said, and I sighed. His temper was getting the better of him, and all I could do was sigh in dismay as Ponytail turned on him.

“What? Didn’t think we heard your little talk?” Ponytail hissed with glee. “It was so sweet! I thought my teeth were going to rot from the sugary sweetness of it all. I about threw up even.”