Zeb’s first shot sent one of the terrorists tumbling down the slope. He lay still when he reached the bottom.
The second shot spun another man around, but he managed to scramble across the ridge to safety.
‘I thought you would be a great shot,’ the girl said. ‘You seem to be good at everything else.’
The third terrorist wasn’t hanging around. He had dived behind the slope when the first man went down.
‘It’s my leg, ma’am. If I was uninjured …’
She snorted, ‘And what’s with the ma’am? Sara. That’s my name.’
‘It’s the way I am, ma’am.’
He heard her sigh, but she didn’t respond.
They lay still for several moments, watching, but no heads appeared over the slope.
‘Let’s go.’
He examined her as she gave him a hand and helped him up.
There was dirt on her clothes. The rubber tube was sticking out of a pocket. The knife was jammed in her belt.
Her face was wan, her eyes tired, and her lips had developed an unconscious tremble.
‘What about them?’ She pointed to the ridge.
‘They now know we have the sniper rifle. That will make them think.’
‘What will they do?’
‘They will circle around,’ he said, pointing to the ridge line. ‘Will try to surround us. Try to stop us before we get to the Middle Fork Salmon River.’
‘Why? They can stop us after we cross, can’t they?’
‘Yeah. But with that M24, it would be easier for us to pick them off as they crossed. If we hung around.’
She turned without a word and started running. In the direction of the river.
They didn’t slacken their pace, even though his leg felt like his thigh bones were grinding together.
At eight pm, he called a halt.
‘We can’t run blindly in the dark,’ he told her.
She leaned against a tree and slid down it as if she were boneless, huffing loudly.
He made a small fire from sticks, using Koeman’s matchsticks.
He broke open cans from his pack and sharpened a twig for her to use as a fork.
‘Why did you make the fire if you aren’t going to heat anything?’
‘A fire makes us feel better, ma’am. Always has. From the times we lived in caves.’
‘Can’t they see it?’
‘No, ma’am,’ he said, chewing some beef jerky slowly. ‘That’s why I picked this spot. Trees around us. Fire less than a foot high. Branches to break the smoke streams.’
‘They can smell the fire.’
‘If they are close, yeah.’ He emptied his can and thought of warning her about what he would do next.
Light danced on her face and turned it soft. As if she was smiling.
She has seen worse.
He got to his feet and stripped off his combat trousers.
He unsheathed his knife and heated it in the flame.
He poured water into her empty can and placed it over the fire.
‘Yes, ma’am. I’ve got to do it.’ He read the question in her eyes.
And dug the hot blade into his thigh.