Zeb raced down, swerving randomly to throw off any shooters.
No rounds came his way.
He was nearing the shooter on the right when … they aren’t down!
Both fallen men moved suddenly, rolling onto their backs.
Zeb couldn’t stop his forward motion.
Ten feet separated him from the closest killer.
Fifteen from the second.
Time slowed.
He heard one of them grunt as he brought his rifle up.
The other, the more distant one, was quicker.
He triggered.
A round flew into the sky harmlessly.
Zeb flung himself to his left.
His Glock came up.
A snapped shot before he landed.
The nearest hitter jerked.
Zeb fell on his left shoulder.
The Glock didn’t waver.
It was the middle of a geometric line starting from Zeb’s eyes and ending at the second killer’s body mass.
Trigger pull.
Turn.
Another shot at the first.
Rounds whistling around him. One grazing his cheek.
He fired twice more.
Someone groaned.
No return fire.
A body twitched.
Zeb twisted to his right.
Got to his feet.
Zigged to the left.
Took two steps forward.
Zagged.
Shooter close to him twitched. His hand tried to lift his rifle.
Zeb shot him.
Went to the second man, who was on his back.
His eyes blinking slowly.
His chest a mass of wetness.
Zeb kicked away his weapon.
Kneeled next to him.
Put his Glock to his temple.
‘Where are the others?’
Movement behind him.
Zeb sprang away, turning in mid-flight, gun coming up.
It was Sara Ashland.
‘Ma’am, that’s a good way to get killed,’ he gasped, sliding on gravel.
‘Did he say anything?’
‘It’s best you move away.’
Zeb didn’t want her to see the man die, but the girl didn’t budge.
She sat next to him.
‘Where is Tavez?’
‘Go away,’ his voice flat, hard.
‘I have seen dead men. Dying people.’
‘Go.’
She rose in a huff and walked away. Her rigid back showing her displeasure.
‘Is Tavez coming?’ he asked in Spanish.
‘No …’ the hitter sighed, blinking slowly. ‘Other side.’
‘Other side of the hill? Which hill?’
The cartel man nodded jerkily and moaned when Zeb pointed to the slope they had come down.
‘Tavez went ahead.’
Another nod.
It struck Zeb.
‘If you returned alive, we would be dead. If not, Tavez would be waiting?’
‘Yessss.’