The way Alex saw it, she had two choices. They were kind of on an island, so running was out. There was only so far she could get before she was shark bait. That left staying hidden and hoping he gave up, or–her least favorite option–confronting him.
The chances of him going away now that he'd seen her were about as good as a fish growing hair. So she set the trap and waited.
It was the monkeys that told her was getting close. No doubt he'd already found the splatter of blood she'd left on a leaf. Ten paces away was the half track she'd made look like an accidental slip off a log. It was obvious enough to a handler, but not so obvious he'd immediately assume it was a trick. At least, she hoped not.
Alex stared down at her foot in the gray-brown muck by the river and blew out a breath. No backing out now. She wiggled her toes and shook the tingling edge out of her fingertips. The knot in her stomach had grown, tangling over itself until not even Houdini could've gotten out of it.
This was a terrible plan, which seemed to be her theme song over the past twenty-four hours.
Even if she could catch him off guard, what was she supposed to do with him? Torture the answers out of him? Murder was a handler's game. Not hers. They liked to say their job was to protect people, but really they just wanted to kill monsters. They liked violence. The more pain it caused, the better.
She sat back on a rock and wiped her foot with the bottom of her shirt. It would be thirty minutes or so before he got to the river. Maybe less.
There was something weird about this whole thing.
If he worked for Safeguard, then why wasn't he tracking the GPS in her collar? Maybe he was too low on the totem pole for Rayner to share her frequency? Not that she was complaining, but sending him after her blind was almost as dumb as what she was about to do.
She stood up, careful to keep both feet on the rock. If this little plan was going to work, she needed to be hidden until just the right moment. So she stepped from stone to stone to log until she reached the thick bit of underbrush she'd picked.
His scent hit her first: sweat over the faint ghost of soap and aftershave. Then she heard his soft, calculated footsteps. Anyone else would've missed the sound, but each tiny shift of the dirt made her chest tighten a little bit more. By the time he cleared the treeline, Alex's heart was pounding and globs of black were dancing at the corners of her vision.
He saw the print right away.
She held her breath, digging her fingernails into her palms to keep herself from running. That would only get her killed faster.
He bent over the track and her fingers twitched. Now or never.
In one smooth motion, she scooped up the large branch at her feet, wrapping her hands around the base. She swung it like a bat–thwack!–catching him on the side of the head. He went down hard. The gun flew out of his hands. He didn't even try to beat her to it.
The answers she got didn't make any sense.
He didn't know who Rayner was?
"Liar!"
Did he think she was stupid? Who the fuck was this guy? Did he have backup? She hadn't seen anyone.
"I can help."
Her muscles tightened, eyes locking onto him. Did he know? Could he see the wound was his? Her vision wavered as a rush of heat drew sweat on her forehead. Pain seared across her shoulder where there was nothing but a scar. The sound of a bullet echoed off cement walls. Bleach that wasn't there stung her nostrils. The collar beeped.
He lifted his hand and she snapped back to reality at the movement.
"Don't touch me!"
But she missed the next thing he said entirely when an electric river of energy poured into her like water into a cup.
The gun was… shaking?
Oh.
Oh no.
Time to go.