Page 23 of The Last True Hero

Eight

THE JOURNEY BACKthrough the ruins with the rest of their people was far simpler. Nothing bothered them, most likely because of the numbers. McClain took the lead, with Thwaites and his fellows following as quietly as they could. A long walk, but then nobody wanted to risk the reivers hearing them coming. The reivers had every advantage already; the position they'd been camped in was tucked up against the walls of a ruined hotel, and the camp was fortified with old jeeps hauled into a circle around it. McClain's little group would have to clear the jeeps to attack, and that meant leaving themselves open to gunfire for a crucial second. Plus the reivers could escape into the bowels of the building if they needed to.

Mia couldn't help feeling like they were walking into a trap. Where were the other reivers? She'd expected them to leap out at any moment as the group made their long journey, but they were almost upon the camp and there were still no signs of them.

She hurried ahead to catch up to McClain who was working point. "Got anything?"

Flies buzzed. McClain scented the air, the moonlight catching on his irises for a second as his nose screwed up.

He held up two fingers, and then dragged his index finger across his throat.

Two dead reivers. Right.

"How?"Mia mouthed.

McClain shrugged. "Lots of blood," he whispered.

Something had gotten to the reivers—or maybe they'd fought amongst themselves. She hoped for the latter. After all, they still didn't know what thisac’tun ahiliwas. Maybe it was the tiger creature they'd seen, but maybe there was something else out there. She'd be quite happy to ride out of this hellhole still not knowing.

They crept past the dead bodies. Smears of blood on the asphalt revealed the reivers had been dragged here and then discarded. She tried not to look at them. Something stunk to high hell—their bowels opening after death probably. And they weren't even covered over. Just left out here to rot.

McClain paused beside them, kneeling down to press his fingers to the blood. He looked around.

"What is it?" she whispered.

He slowly withdrew his fingers, frowning. "They dragged four more of them out here. But the bodies are missing."

The second he said it, she could see the signs. Scuff marks in the dirt showed where something had hauled the other four bodies away. They led directly to a hole in the ground. A sewer grate?

Mia looked sharply at McClain.Ac’tun ahili?

He understood her. "Let's get moving," he said quietly. "We're not alone out here."

In the distance, shadows rippled behind a shattered statue. Jake and Jenny, she guessed. They blended into the statue, whose head had been half-dismembered by the fall. It had been pale green once, and the blank eyes stared sightlessly at her, its head crowned by a diadem of spikes. Mia eyed it uneasily. Now that she knew something preyed on the dead bodies, she couldn't stop feeling like they were being watched.

Best to get this over and done with, then get the hell out of here.

McClain made some kind of gestures, and Jake nodded, flicking his fingers back in some sort of unspoken language. McClain urged her forward, his warm hand firm on the small of her back.

They took shelter behind a car.

Pressing close to her, he breathed in her ear. "There are sixteen reivers here," he whispered. "Fourteen in camp, and two on guard. Your people are definitely in the hole in the ground."

"Good," she murmured, gesturing to Thwaites and his group to creep after them. She couldn't help wondering where the rest of the reivers had gone.

As soon as she thought it, her gaze shot to the two bodies. Some kind of fighthadbroken out—she just knew it. Or maybe whatever was snatching the bodies had taken live ones too.

"How many of our people are in there?" Mia whispered, a breathless feeling almost choking her.

McClain shook his head. He didn't know.

What if Sage was not here? She’d been so certain she would be, but… maybe the reivers fought, and some of them separated from the group?

Worry about that later.She gripped her shotgun in clammy hands. She and Jenny were the best shooters, which meant they were to get around back and pick off as many reivers as they could.

I've never killed someone before.

"Stop it," she whispered to herself. Adrenaline punched through her veins. It made every little noise echo in her ears.