Page 40 of Hunted in the Shadows
She ignored him. “You’re probably better off selling it for scrap, but I may have a gutted model or two that could have the parts you need to get it back up and running. I’ll see what I can find and get back to you with a quote.”
“How long will that take?” I asked, feeling another prickle of guilt. Another indefinite delay. More time before I fulfilled my promise to Mother.
“A day or two, maybe."
“What about a loaner car?” Cliff asked, jutting his chin toward the window that framed the view of the auto lot below.
Hannah chewed, regarding the three of us thoughtfully. A furrow pulled between her eyes. “Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like you could use a break.”
Cliff chuckled darkly. “We’re not really the vacationing type.”
Hannah’s lips quirked up at the corner, shooting Gwen a knowing look. “Where have I heard that before? Yeah, I’ve got a couple in the back I can spare. Do what you gotta do.”
Jon sighed with relief. “That’d be great, thank you. We can hit the outpost and stock up in the meantime.”
Gwen rubbed between her eyes, sighing audibly. “Guess I’m going with you, then.”
“What?” Hannah straightened sharply, her fork clattering onto the plate. The golden retriever padded over, snuffling the ground for a fallen bit of egg.
“Sorry, did I miss the part where someone invited you?” Cliff demanded.
“Well, good luck finding your way there without me,” Gwen said. “They rerouted the road about a year ago—you’ll go in circles if you don’t know what you’re doing. A few too many lost hikers and monsters with vendettas found their way there.”
Cliff took a beat, studying her intently. Slowly, he smiled. “Oh, I get it.”
“I can guarantee you don’t.”
Cliff folded his arms on the table, cocking his head to the side as if goading some shared secret out of her. “You’re still worried about me.”
Gwen let out a short, stunned laugh. “For fuck’s sake…”
“It’s alright, you don’t have to say it. But gotta admit, I can't blame you.”
“The sooner you’re done there, the sooner you’re gone, right?” Gwen asked. She seemed to savor the way his crooked grin froze.
Lips pressed into a thin line, Hannah touched Gwen’s arm gingerly. “Honey, can’t you just give them directions?”
“It’s not that simple. Things have gotten more complicated with the new management taking over. These two may be idiots, but I don't want their blood on my hands, either.”
Jon straightened. “New management? Cain isn’t the outpost marshal anymore?”
Clicking his tongue, Cliff shook his head. “Don’t tell me he finally kicked the bucket—I liked that guy.”
“Don’t get weepy—Cain’s still around, as far as I know, but he got talked into handing the keys over. Some cleaner showed up and flashed a bunch of cash to invest in upgrades for the outpost. All of a sudden, he wasn’t just some cleaner anymore. He started calling the shots.”
Cliff's expression darkened. “Who is this guy?”
“Goes by Rhett.”
Fresh tension seized the breakfast table.
“RhettIverson?” Jon questioned.
Gwen narrowed her eyes, then nodded. “Why, you know him?”
Jon and Cliff groaned in unison, and I recalled the two of them griping now and again about some hunts gone wrong. The nameRhetthad come up once or twice—and I suddenly remembered why.
“Wait,” I piped up, looking between the boys. “Is this the prowler incident guy? Is he the reason why you won’t hunt with anyone else?”
