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But I can’t stop shaking. I can’t fucking breathe as I gain on him just a little. Up, up, up the hill. I hear her footfall on the leaves. She’s coming down. Oh God, I fucking see her.
My reflexes are still fast, so even though my right hand sucks, I throw the star before he gets the gun’s nose pointed at her. It flies fast and far—but hits his shoulder, not his spine.
Niccolo whirls: eyes wide, face twisted, gun raised.
TWENTY NINE
GWENNA
February 14, 2016
OH MY GOD, THAT’S BARRETT!
He’s so thin it takes a second to be sure, but I can feel him before my eyes identify his face and body. My heart swells to twice its size, surging so hard and fast, I almost fall right over.
I’m alight. Alive.
My mouth opens—I want to scream and run to him—but Barrett’s eyes are not on me. His arm jerks up. I see the man in camo flinch, and then whirl. He’s clumsy, teeters on his heel. He holds the giant gun clumsily, but it’s pointed at Barrett.
Time stops as Bear holds his hands up. I can see him walking slowly toward the masked man. I can see his face go white. Just one time, his eyes flick to mine. I can read him like a book: RUN, GWEN!
I don’t. I can’t.
“It’s okay,” he says loudly to the gunman. He waves, as if nothing is the matter. “Hunting?”
“You—” The masked man shakes his head. His back is facing me now, as he’s turned toward Barrett, lower down the hill. I see a crimson stain seep through his camo, near the shoulder blade, and realize Barrett must have…I don’t know. Bear doesn’t have a gun, does he?
The masked man laughs, wielding his own long rifle. “Did you throw a knife at me?”
I know that voice.
I hear it laugh.
“How many times have you played checkers? Dammit, woman. I can never win.”
My stomach bottoms out.
It’s Nic.
I hold my arms out, desperate to convey this to Barrett somehow. My mind spins. What is going on here?
Again, Bear’s gaze hits mine. Go!
“It was a throwing star,” he says calmly. His voice ignites my blood. “Sorry, man. Is that you, Nic? I wasn’t sure. I just got home and saw someone head up this way. Guess I panicked.”
Barrett shrugs, and if my brain weren’t pealing with alarm bells from the strangeness of the situation, I would believe what he is saying.
“Hunting?” Bear repeats. He shakes his head and brings a hand up to his temple, like he has a headache. “Really sorry, man. I’ll—”
“Quiet!” Still brandishing the gun, Nic steps closer to Bear. Then, abruptly, he whirls back around toward me. Using both arms, he raises the gun. I can see his finger fumble for the trigger. At the same time, I note the blur that is Barrett rushing toward us.
It happens so fast.
Nic fires the gun, and I can hear and feel the bullet—hitting me? I guess I drop down to the ground, because that’s where I am when I see Barrett straddle Nic and wrench the gun out of his hands. He slams his hand down on Nic’s throat and squeezes as his face twists violently.
“You fucking piece of shit!”
His body trembles and his face reddens. I think I make some sort of sound because Bear’s eyes, again, fly to mine. Once his gaze hits mine, it softens.
