Once she started chopping again, head down, the gazes lifted one by one until the pinpricks disappeared altogether. Lynn tried to listen in on Cody and Ren’s conversation, but their words were drowned out by the noises of the night. The merry sputtering of the fires around her, the sounds of people working, and loud animal howls, yips, and cries all covered the softly spoken words.
She focused on chopping vegetables.
Several minutes later, Ren approached cautiously and with enough noise to warn Lynn of her approach.
She glanced up, then back to her carrots.
“Feeling better?”
Lynn shrugged. “I guess. Was that about me?”
Ren stepped up to the table and glanced at the knife. She picked up her own again and resumed peeling. “Not exactly. Kate came out of her room. They’re just dealing with the loss right now. I—”
“Hey, you!”
Lynn almost dropped the knife but rushed to grip it instead as she whirled. She had been sure her adrenaline had been exhausted, but her body found a hidden reserve. Her heart rate spiked again, and cold sweat promptly ran down her spine. Any other time she would have scolded herself for jumping at ghosts again, but this time the reaction was justified. She would recognize that voice anywhere.
Dean stood a few feet away, backpack around his shoulders. A wicked-looking knife—about twice the size of hers—gleamed in his clenched fist. The anger was still in his eyes.
Lynn swallowed. She relaxed her muscles so she wouldn’t lock up when he came at her. This time it would be a fair fight—as fair as could be with the size difference in the blades at their disposal. She mentally rehearsed the moves: sidestep, upswing for the throat, feint left, get behind him, gut stab. Lethal force. She knew that look: if she didn’t end it, he would.
Ren turned slowly.
“You know where he is, right? My dad? Take me to him.” Dean pushed forward.
The cocking of a gun echoed through the darkness to her right, and to her left Ren took a step forward. She spotted Dani as she came out of her workstation, spear extended and leveled. Apparently, no one trusted this to go well, although Lynn wondered who they were protecting: her or Dean. Time to make a last stand, Tanner, but don’t you dare lash out first. They’ll kill you deader than dead in an instant.
“Take me to him!”
She took a deep breath. “No.”
He stepped forward again. “Take me to him!” he emphasized every word this time.
“Dean…” Ren’s soothing voice barely made it over the echo of his bellow.
Lynn held Dean’s gaze. Sweat prickled icily on her back. Her mind struggled to catch up to this turn of events. “You tried to kill me.”
“But I didn’t. Take me to him!”
“It’s dark.” The thought of being out there, with Dean, in the dark nearly paralyzed her with fear.
He squinted but didn’t advance. “We’ll take torches.”
“Dean, I need you to dro—”
“And walk around like targets for predators? No way!” Lynn twisted the knife to get a better grip. “And even if it wasn’t dark, there is no way I am going anywhere with you.”
Dean’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and he stepped forward.
Ren took up position in front of Lynn. “Dee, think ab—”
Dean slid to the side to restore his line of vision.
Ren’s body obscured Lynn’s view of the knife, so she sidestepped too, to make sure he couldn’t trap her against the table should he lunge around Ren.
“I’m not leaving my dad out there another night, and you know where he is! So you are going to shut u—”
Lynn bristled and pushed forward, urged on by her anger. “Hey, asshat, read my lips: no! It’s a two-day journey at least, three if I can’t find my way back right away. Besides, he was buried with proper honors! I know you’re hurting, but—”
He uttered a broken warrior’s cry—the cry of a man knowing he was committing suicide but doing it anyway—and lunged.
Ren jumped aside with a small yelp of fear.
The storm that had been raging inside Lynn’s skull settled in an instant. Calmly, she brought up the knife and sidestepped as planned. There was something about the possibility of imminent death that was very soothing.
Before Dean could reach her, someone burst into her field of vision from the left and smashed into him. The force knocked both over into a tangled heap of legs, arms, and grunts. They fought for control of the knife.
Cody. Lynn sucked in a breath. It was Cody who had come to her rescue—or maybe Dean’s, depending on how he judged their odds.
Ren rushed forward to help but ended up on the periphery, bouncing from one foot to the other, yelling.
Taken by surprise by the sudden turn of events, Lynn watched the ensuing struggle as if she were miles away.
Ren yelled, but the meaning of the words didn’t sink in.
She spotted Flint now, his face grim and his gun raised in one hand as he watched. Dani gripped her spear, waiting. Eduardo had held up a hand uselessly near the smokehouse, in a quiet and completely ignored stop sign.
“Dean! Pipe down!”
Cody’s voice snapped her attention back to the struggle. He had Dean pinned down, but the boy bucked and contorted, still struggling. Cody was out of breath, but he was a strong man with a level head. He spent only the energy he had to while Dean was wasting his with his thrashing. This fight was over, even if Dean hadn’t realized it yet.
She straightened and relaxed her tense and sore muscles. The adrenaline drained from her and left her dizzy and unbalanced. She gripped the table for support and felt the handle of the knife dig into her palm.
The movement seemed to catch Ren’s attention, and her gaze settled on Lynn.
Why does she look so afraid? Then Lynn remembered the promise she had made, that if Dean came after her again, she would kill him.
Dean began to cry in ragged sobs.
She glanced down at him. Snot and spit left streaks on the boy’s face. Despite what she’d said—and thought—earlier, she didn’t need petty revenge. To show they needn’t worry about her, Lynn placed the knife on the table and pushed it away. She stepped back on unsteady legs.
Dean caught his second wind and pushed hard enough to almost tip Cody over.
Cody scrambled to solidify his hold.
“No! Dad is out there! Who knows if he’s being eaten right now or—or—” His voice broke.
Lynn shuddered. She shouldn’t be watching this. It was too embarrassing to see someone so utterly stripped of their walls. To busy her eyes, she looked over at Dani, who stood in the same spot but had lowered her spear. She wasn’t watching the fight; she stared at Lynn with an unreadable expression.
Why was she looking at her like that? She managed to hold the gaze a few seconds but then had to look away. She couldn’t deal with Dani right now—or her own emotions.
Cody embraced Dean, and Dean buried his face in Cody’s sweater. He cried openly now that the fight had drained out of him.
Lynn licked her lips. “I meant what I said.”
Ren tensed.
“I’m not going anywhere with him.”
Ren deflated. She turned back and watched her husband console the grieving youth. “I don’t blame you.” Her voice only just carried over all the nighttime noises.
Lynn resumed her staring as well, as painful as it was. She finally had time to process this attack, this plea. Why did Dean want to collect his father’s body? She’d buried him, all good and proper. There were big stones on his grave. Only the most determined of animals would manage to get down to him in the deep hole she’d spent an entire morning digging. He was safe, buried, gone.