Page 59 of Last Light

“Mmm. Not bad.”

Travis takes a few more and hands half to me.

Fresh fruit is an indulgence that’s not part of our lives anymore.

“Let’s not eat them all,” I say after a minute. “We should leave some for the birds. I hope there’s more than just the one cardinal.”

“Probably is. We’ll save the rest for them.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and then puts his palm between my shoulder blades. “We should get back.”

“Yeah. I’m ready. I’m glad we saw the bird.”

“Me too.”

***

WE’RE CLEARING THEwoods when we realize we’re not alone.

We should have heard the sound of an engine. Or voices talking. We weren’t that far away from our vehicle, and Travis’s ears in particular are really sharp.

But there weren’t any engines. Weren’t any voices.

They moved on foot. Silently. Purposefully. Like SEALs or trained assassins.

As soon as we step out of the woods, they’re surrounding us.

I have my gun out of its holster immediately, and Travis has his shotgun against his shoulder and aimed.

But there are far too many of them for us to cover.

I see at least two dozen from where we’re standing, and there are likely to be even more.

They’re all armed. Their faces are tense and guarded. At least ten guns are pointed at us right now.

They’re all women.

That fact registers beneath the surge of panic.

It doesn’t matter how strong and skilled Travis is. There are way too many guns surrounding us for him to fight.

One woman steps forward from the half circle that moved smoothly to surround us. She’s tall and strong with dark hair, dark eyes, and tanned skin. “We’ll kill you before you pull that trigger.” She doesn’t sound angry.

She’s completely in control.

Travis has pushed me behind him, so I’m trapped between his body and a tree. “I’ll kill a few of you before you can.”

I clutch his shirt with my free hand, although I’m still leveling my gun on one of the women in my range. Travis is so tense I can feel it shuddering through him. I can’t see his face, but I don’t need to.

He’s scared.

Like me, he knows we have no hope of fighting our way out of this.

“You’ll only get off one shot. It better be true.” The same woman is speaking. She’s wearing a pair of tight jeans and a sleeveless top, and her hair’s in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She’s got three knives on her that I can see.

“We’ve got a vehicle,” Travis says, hoarse and urgent. “Down the way a bit. It’s got gas. Food. Supplies. Take it. Take it all. We don’t want any trouble.”

The woman frowns. “We saw it. We don’t need handouts from a man. I want to speak toher.”

She’s talking about me, I suddenly realize.

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