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He glared at her with sullen eyes.
"Now, why the hell did you shoot him?"
He scowled again. "Because Jack killed his wife!"
Instead, she pressed harder into Tom's chest, her fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. "You don't know that."
"Ask anyone in town!" Tom shouted, desperation etching lines across his face. "Jack was always mixed up in bad business, and it finally caught up with him. The two of 'em were at odds."
Rachel shook her head. "I don't believe you, Tom. You hear that? That howling sound?"
She paused for dramatic effect. She'd been listening to the wolves for the last fifteen minutes, their calls echoing through the open window of the truck. The scent of coppery blood in the front seat was now lingering on the air.
She stared at Tom a second longer, and then snatched his wrist, dragging him. Her fingers dug into his arm, biting deep.
He yelped as she dragged him forward, towards the side of the truck. She snatched the cuffs from where Ethan still held them, dangling in his hand.
"What the hell are you doing?" shouted Tom.
The sound of the distant wolves grew closer, echoing along the desolate mountain slopes.
She yanked open the passenger door, giving Tom a good look of the dead man he'd shot.
She then cuffed him to Jack.
"Hey! Hey, what the hell!" he protested.
She pulled Jack unceremoniously from the front seat, muttered a small apology to the dead, and then yanked him out.
The body was two hundred pounds of dead weight. He toppled to the ground on the side of the road, dragging Tom's arm down with him.
She then slammed the door, circled the truck, and hopped back inside. She turned the key, starting the engine.
"Hey!" Tom yelled through the window. "What are you doing? You can't leave me here! Hey! Hey!"
She began to drive, and his expression shifted into one of terror.
His fingers scrabbled against the glass, leaving smudges.
She drove along, moving slowly. Tom tried to keep up, dragging the body behind with him.
She rolled the window down a bit more, so she could see the fear in his eyes, and so he could see the unyielding steel in hers.
"I think I'm going to let you sit here with your choices," she said, her voice a snarl.
"Hey... hey, hang on. You're a ranger."
"This is Clark land," she said, spitting the words like venom. "Haven't you heard? Things are done different around here. I saw the packed bags in Jack's room. His wife was going to leave him. Was the cryptic note sent by you?'Meet me at the old mill, midnight.'Was she going to meet up with you?"
Tom gaped at her, stunned into silence.
"Rachel..." Ethan muttered through the window behind her, but she ignored him.
"Hear those wolves? Think you can outrun 'em? They sound hungry. Too bad you got a man smelling of dear blood and human guts hanging on to you. Maybe, if you're quick, you can cut off your hand. Run for it." She didn't look away. Didn't give him an inch of remorse.
He just stared at her in terror.
"Wh-what?"
