Shit. Had Steve just dangled him out there as bait? So he could then charge in with his men and waste Tobias’s people? If those were Tobias’s men back there. For all Keo knew, they could have been more of the “stragglers” that annoyed Steve and just happened to have picked on the wrong victim.
There was no denying that those other shooters had shown up pretty fast, right about the time Keo found himself besieged inside the warehouse. So they were around the area, waiting for a sign, because they likely hadn’t heard the sniper shooting earlier. Keo hadn’t heard the gunshots, and he was the one being shot at. Anyone at the bridge, or the wooded area around it (or wherever the hell Steve’s men had been hiding) wouldn’t have heard a whimper. But those gunshots in the warehouse, on the other hand…
He stopped in his tracks.
The shooting behind him had ceased entirely, leaving a quiet lull that, even more than the sound of the M60 firing away, gave him goose bumps.
It was over, and Keo didn’t have to think very hard about who had won.
What now? Carry on or go back to T18?
Did he even have much of a choice? Whatever Steve’s game, walking back after that carnage was probably not going to end very favorably for him. No. The smart move here was to keep going, then decide what to do later when he had more intel.
He pushed on, even though he didn’t have a clue where he was going and there wasn’t anything resembling a trail for him to latch onto. It didn’t take long for him to get flashbacks to another time and another place when he had spent way too many days inside a wooded area much like this one. Back then, he was being chased by a madman with a small army.
The more things changed…
He was thinking about Pollard, about Norris and Allie, when he stepped on a twig and it snapped! under one of his boots.
Keo paused and looked down just a split second before the wire sprung out from the ground, scattering dried leaves that had been camouflaging it, and slipped around his right leg. The razor-thin steel line dug into his ankle as it tightened and he was shot into the air like a rocket. The sky above him flipped until he was staring at the ground and Keo found himself hanging upside down from a tree.
He’d stepped right into a snare trap!
He scrambled for the MP5SD, but it was on the ground below him. He still had the Glock, and Keo was reaching for it when something hard and metallic pressed into the back of his neck, the rifle barrel cold against his exposed skin.
“Draw it, and you’re a dead man,” a voice said behind him.
Keo took his hand away from the Glock.
The figure scrambled around him in a wide circle, giving him plenty of space in case Keo had any ideas about grabbing for his weapon. He was a short man (or maybe he was actually tall, since it was a little difficult to tell proper height while hanging upside down) wearing green and brown hunting clothes, boots, and green and black camo paint on his face. Brown eyes peered out at Keo.
“This must be a Texas thing,” Keo said.
“Shut up,” the man said. He took out a radio with one hand and keyed it. “I got him. The guy from the warehouse.”
“Bring him in,” a woman answered through the radio. “He’s got a lot to answer for.”
“Maybe I should just shoot him.”
The man was holding a large rifle with one hand. Like his face, the weapon was covered in a camo pattern. He cocked his head slightly to one side, one eye focused on Keo from behind his rifle’s scope despite the short distance. At this range, the bullet would probably take off half of Keo’s head. If one didn’t do the job, and given the magazine under the weapon, the man would easily be able to try again with a second trigger pull.
“Whoa, whoa,” Keo said. “Let’s talk this over.”
“Shut the fuck up,” the man said.
“No, bring him in,” the woman said through the radio. “Tobias’s orders.”
The man hesitated.
“Did you hear me?” the woman asked.
“Whatever you say,” the man said, and put the radio away. He took a step back before slinging his rifle and producing a knife from a sheath along his hip. “This must be your lucky day, Chinaman.”
Not quite, but hey, the day’s still young.
Because Keo had heard it clearly. The woman on the radio had definitely said the name “Tobias.”
Keo didn’t need to look at his watch swinging underneath him to know what time it was. Despite the thick canopies on the other side of his boots, there was still at least five hours of sunlight left.
Five hours to kill Tobias and return to T18.
He’d done more with less time.
CHAPTER 10
His captor was in his late twenties and maybe just a year or two younger than Keo himself. He learned this useless fact while they were moving through the woods when the man wiped the camo off his face with a rag that he then stuffed into his back pocket. The wiring that had snared Keo was now binding his hands in front of him, the thin piece of steel digging into his wrists, just deep enough to hurt but not draw blood.
Keo walked up front, moving slowly because he had no idea where he was going and a part of him was afraid of stepping into another trap. From the looks of the man keeping a decent distance behind him, rifle no doubt pointed right at Keo’s back, he had been out here for some time setting up plenty of snares. The damn thing had been strong enough to hold him suspended, so either the man was looking for big game or he was hunting humans. The only other option was that he was hoping to catch something that used to be human, but that didn’t really make much sense in the daylight.
They were definitely moving deeper into the woods because the canopies were getting thicker and the temperature was continuing to fall around him. Keo kept sneaking a look at the darker parts of his surroundings, the places where shadows lingered, and imagined black eyes watching him back. He might have shivered and hoped his captor didn’t notice.
“What’re they for?” Keo asked.
“What?” the man said. He moved quietly, almost like a cat. No wonder Keo had never known he was hiding nearby.
“The snare. What was it for?”
There was no response, just the crunch-crunch of shoes over brittle grass. Keo couldn’t see the man’s face, so he didn’t know if he didn’t want to answer or if he just didn’t feel like talking.
“Humans?” Keo said anyway. “Or things that used to be humans? Is that it? You trying to snag yourself a ghoul?”
“Ghoul?” the man said.
“The creatures.”
“You call them ghouls, too?”
‘Too’? Keo thought. Curiouser and curiouser.
“So do you, apparently,” he said.
There was no response that time.
“Where are we going?” Keo asked.
“You’ll know when we get there.”
“What if I walk right into a hole and fall down or something?”
“I guess you better watch your step, then.”
Keo smiled. “I’m Keo, by the way.”
“Good for you.”
“You got a name?”
“Yes.”
“Wanna share?”
“Nope.”
“Don’t be that way. I have to call you something.”
Silence.
Keo sighed. “This is how misunderstandings get started, you know.”
“There’s no misunderstanding,” the man said. “You set us up.”
“I didn’t set anyone up. You ambushed me. The sniper-”
“Bullshit.” Then, “Turn left here.”
Keo turned left, though there were still no trails, old footsteps, or anything that would indicate this was a well-traveled route. So what exactly was his captor using to tell directions? Or maybe the guy was making it up as he went. That seemed unlikely, though.
“He’s out there with his men,” Jack had told him.