He filled the cups before turning around. She was sitting up now, propped up by her left hand.
Her eyes were suspicious, her body tense, but it was what she was gripping in her right hand that drew his attention.
His spare Glock.
He slept with two of them underneath his sleeping bag. One gun was on him; the other was now with her.
He was struck by the easy familiarity with which she held the gun. Her palm curved around its butt firmly, its barrel unwavering as it pointed towards him.
‘I am Zeb Carter. I am a hiker,’ he replied calmly.
Defuse the situation first.
Her eyes moved around the hut. They rested for a moment on his backpacks, lingered on the screen and sat phone on top of his smaller bag, and returned to him when she had finished her survey.
‘You made this yourself?’ she pointed the gun at the roof.
‘This hut? Yeah.’
‘Cool.’
He frowned inwardly. Cool wasn’t the word a girl would have used. Not if her father had been killed. Not if she was hunted by Namir, or anyone else.
‘How did you find me?’ she interrupted his thinking.
‘You found me. You came to my hut.’
And then her memory seemed to return.
Her eyes widened. The Glock dropped. Her lips trembled.
‘My God,’ she whispered. ‘He killed Dad … Dad.’ She bent double, retching, dry heaves that wracked her small body.
He dropped the tea cups and rushed forward to hold her.
‘No, no,’ she screamed, her fists pounding against his chest. ‘You are one of them. You killed my father. You are Namir’s man.’
‘No. I am not one of them.’ He held her closer, smothering her fight till he felt her shudder and start sobbing, her tears dampening his T-shirt.
‘Let me go,’ she screamed and bit his shoulder hard.
He winced but didn’t release her.
‘Listen,’ he told her, blinking to ward off the pain. ‘If I was one of them, you would already be dead.’
She didn’t respond, but her wriggling lessened, and then stopped.
She stiffened suddenly.
‘They are coming.’ Her face went white, her head bobbing wildly as she searched the room in panic.
‘No one is here,’ he comforted her. ‘No one is outside. I checked. What do you mean, Namir killed your father? How do you know Namir?’
She wrenched out of his grasp, ‘We have no time for this,’ she shouted, fear and rage lacing her voice. ‘His men were chasing me. They are not far behind. Dad … what they did to him …’
She bolted for the door and fled into the night.