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“This isn’t time for games,” Camille snapped, her sweet veneer tossed away. “Damn it, I’m trying to help you.”
“If she dies, then we have nothing,” Lila pointed out.
Connell shuffled his boots impatiently. “The way I figure it, her handler has no idea we’ve found her yet, but waiting gives him time to figure it out and make a plan. The oracle gave me orders, and I intend to follow them.” He withdrew his palm from his coat pocket and tapped upon the screen. “Reinforcements will arrive soon, and I’ve warned monitoring to keep a lookout for her friend.”
“He’s not my friend,” Camille said. “And he’ll know. He always knows.”
“That’s why I’m not taking any chances.” Connell stuffed his palm back into his pocket. “Be silent while we walk, outsider, or I’ll shoot off your kneecaps. You don’t need those to answer questions.”
Connell started off, leading the group through the cabin. Dixon and Lila brought up the rear, their tranq guns trained on Camille in case she tried to run.
When they finally stepped through the front door, a dozen grim-eyed militia met them, their guns at the ready. Nico stood before them, a particularly lethal set to his jaw. “We should tranq her now, chief. Transport will be easier, especially if she has a partner. He can’t carry her off the compound and hold a gun at the same time.”
“No. Tranqing her will delay her interrogation by at least a day. The oracle wants to know what the outsider knows, and she wants to know it now.”
Connell clomped across the porch. He stepped onto the asphalt lane that ran through the compound, his eyes searching every building they passed. The purplecoats surrounded the prisoner, like a flock of birds in diamond formation. Unlike the others, Lila watched Camille as she scanned the rooftop and the spaces between the buildings, as she flinched at every door and window that cracked open when they passed.
A grackle landed a few meters away, flapping its wings.
Camille jumped and sucked in her breath.
“I don’t like this,” Lila said quietly, looking over her shoulder at the admin building, only a hundred meters away. “I suggest we take her to the admin building for interrogation and give everyone inside the day off.”
Connell halted. “Why? Do you see something?”
Lila peered around her. The little hairs on the back of her neck rose. “Not yet, but something’s not right.”
A shot cracked above their heads.
A chunk of a nearby cabin disintegrated into splinters.
The group crouched. Nico pushed Camille down into the dirt, covering her with his body. The remaining militia twisted this way and that, searching for the gun.
Connell found it first. “Cabin thirty-eight. Shooter’s on the roof. It’s a long-range rifle with a scope.”
Another shot rang out, hitting Nico’s shoulder.
A third blast pinged into the dirt beside him. Nico twisted to peek at Camille.
A bullet had grazed her arm.
“Nico, get her to the admin building,” Connell ordered, then turned his gaze to four of his purplecoats as well as Lila and Dixon. “You six go with him. The rest of us will go after the shooter.”
Without another second to spare, Connell was off, static-riddled radio in his hand, calling for a lockdown of the compound.
Nico didn’t check his shoulder. He merely picked himself off the ground, warm blood flowing down his arm, and gripped Camille’s hand. He sprinted as though racing Lila. The others struggled to keep up, making a wall to hide the Camille from the shooter.
Lila and Dixon ran alongside them. Not for the first time, Lila wished she had a gun with bullets. Perhaps it was adrenaline or anger, but she didn’t even care if she killed the asshole. She merely wanted the danger gone. She wanted Dixon safe.
She couldn’t do that with heavy darts. They couldn’t hit a target so far away.
Dixon seemed to have the same thoughts. He gritted his teeth, eyes tracking to Lila. The fear he’d shown months ago had passed. Perhaps he’d worked through it. Perhaps after getting poisoned and shot, he’d just assumed they’d get out of danger, just like they always did.
Lila remembered feeling like that once, but she wasn’t sure she’d be so lucky this time, not after what had happened with La Roux.
A series of shots rang out in the dirt, spraying wildly in the group. A male and female purplecoat cried out, one leg and torso impaled with bullets.
Blood bloomed on Camille’s shoulder, matching Nico’s.
