The Headhunters Race (Headhunters #1) (13 page)

McCoy gives me a funny look. “What kind of scratches?” He takes my arm, turning it back and forth to inspect. “Looks like bear.”

I hold my gaze steady but I don’t say anything. He’s too smart for his own good. It just makes me realize I’ll have to be smarter than he is every step of the way.

“Oh my God,” says Jake. “Look at her back!”

McCoy whirls me around. “Your tee-shirt is ripped clean through!”

I cringe when McCoy lifts my tee to take a look. Jake gasps, and then steps in front of me with both eyes about as big as his head. “Was it a bear?” he asks.

I grunt in surrender. “Yes. It was a bear,” I say, shaking myself loose from McCoy’s prying eyes. “But as you can see, I’m fine.” Jake is so enthralled by the bear encounter I end up telling the story in abbreviated format as we continue south. Of course, I leave out all the parts about Clint and the fact that I was way off course.

The closer we get to the mountains, the more desert growth there is. Brush and trees and cacti are scattered across the ground. By nightfall, we reach the mountains. McCoy points out the three ladies, although it’s hard to discern in the sliver of moonlight that they look like ladies at all. They look more like tall slabs of rock staggered like dominoes. McCoy turns us east and we follow along the base of the mountain. I’m wondering how much farther when he starts to climb and I’m not sure how much farther I can go. I take a second to catch my breath. I’m thirsty but when I check for water, each of my canteens is empty.

“How much longer?” I ask.

McCoy doesn’t even stop. “Just over this ridge,” he says, out of breath.

With a goal, I can make it. Although I’m thinking it will be over the ridge and then down the ridge. That’s what I prepare myself for. I stumble, sliding back a foot or so before I catch myself.

Jake turns to me. “You okay, Avene?”

“I’m okay.”

Finally, we hit a trail and the going is a lot easier. We swing around and McCoy enters a natural cleft in the mountainside. It’s narrow as we shuffle over rocks and down into a gulley that looks like it flowed with water recently but has since dried up. I hope McCoy has a backup plan. All of us are thirsty, tired, and hungry. When we reach the bottom, the hard ground gives way to lush vegetation, trees, and meadow grass—an oasis in the desert lit by partial moonlight. It looks like heaven.

McCoy takes a left into a cluster of trees. The air is cool inside. The canopy rustles above our heads in the breeze. My ears perk up at the sound of cascading water. We stop near the charred remains of an old fire. “We’ll camp here tonight. Boom says the cannibals don’t travel into these mountains. They mostly keep to the flatlands.” He looks over at me. “There’s a pool with a small waterfall back behind those desert palms if you want to get water and clean up.”

I drop my pack next to the fire pit, removing the canteens. Jake blazes a trail ahead of me, bursting through the understory of shrubs and exotic-looking plants. A shout of exuberance on the other side followed by a splash makes me laugh.

“Hurry up, Avene,” Jake yells.

I glance back at McCoy before I step through the dense leaves sheltering the pool beyond. He’s busy gathering wood, seemingly not interested in relaxing just yet. I open my mouth to speak, but decide he’ll take a break when he’s ready. “I’m coming,” I say and push into the hidden retreat.

My senses explode. The sounds and smells and sights of the oasis joyously overwhelm me. Crickets chirp and desert cicadas buzz in my ear. Water crashes over the rocks into an oblong-shaped pool.

I take a few steps before I realize how difficult it is to walk. My boots sink into a layer of sand. I remove them and my socks, barely taking my eyes off the water foaming at the base of the fall. The smell of damp earth and wet moss is refreshing considering the mud and dust I’ve been breathing the past few days.

“Get in!” yells Jake.

I can hardly wait to dip myself in. For a moment though, I stand there longingly, reluctant to peel off my clothes in front of Jake and wondering if I should wait until he’s finished.

He’s a nine-year-old for God’s sakes!

I knew I could count on Verla to remind me that this is not the time to be ruled by modesty. Besides, the only light is the moon. Wishing I could remove the collar, I strip to my underclothes and tee and wade in. I’m greeted by warm water. Like the warm baths my mother used to give me as a child. It’s unexpected, but lovely. I swim to the waterfall where Jake is hanging out and let the water rush over my body, using my fingers to scrub myself clean. It feels good to have the grit, dirt, and dust free from my skin.

Jake is swimming like a fish. I cup my hand and fill it with fresh water showering from above and drink until my belly is sloshing full. Clean, hydrated, and ten pounds lighter, I stretch out on the rock next to the waterfall, close my eyes, and pretend for a moment that I’m not a prisoner. I imagine that I’m free. Free to travel and live how I want and that I don’t have vengeance in my heart.

“Don’t you wish we could stay here forever?” says Jake, spreading out next to me.

“It would be nice,” I say, staring up at the stars, watching tiny bats flitter from one tree to another. “But we can’t. We’re in a race to save our lives, remember?”

Jake turns on his side to face me. “Yeah, but we could stay one more day. McCoy says there can’t be too many racers left so he’s not that worried. Why do you think we even bothered to track you all this time?”

I bolt upright. “What? Have you been tracking me since I left you?”

Jake sits up too, biting his lip, his brow furrowing like he’s realized he might have said something wrong. “Well, not the whole time, just since yesterday after lunch. We saw you at the creek where it splits off. McCoy was worried while you were gone and swore he’d find you again so no harm came to ya.”

I relax a little, relieved they don’t know about Clint. “Did you guys follow me up the trail that dead ends? And you decided not to tell me about the secret cave?”

“Well, McCoy didn’t want you to think we were stalking you. Anyway, he knew you’d figure it out in the morning.”

McCoy is definitely planning to use me. If I wasn’t certain before, I am now. Jake starts sniffing the air at the same moment a familiar aroma manifests itself around me. “Smells like rabbit,” I say.

Jake’s eyes light up. “It probably is. McCoy caught a couple yesterday.” He leaps to his feet and holds out a hand. “Let’s go eat!”

I ignore his gesture. “You go. I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

I nod.

Jake races off while I dry out a little longer, wondering how McCoy can be so helpful yet ruthless at the same time. That must be his method of operation: to be helpful one minute and a back-stabber the next. Well, I’m on to him. I won’t let McCoy get the better of me, but there’s no harm in letting him think he is.

Now that I’m dry I pull on my jeans. I scrub my flannel, what’s left of it anyway, and set it on one of the rocks to dry. A few minutes later I hear the rustling of plants and look up to see McCoy. He walks around the pool and sits on the rock next to me, holding a large leaf that is rolled up like a log. “Here’s some meat,” he says, handing it to me.

Reluctantly I take it, letting the ends of the leaf fall open, revealing two rabbit legs. My favorite. Does he know this or is it coincidence? “Thank you,” I say and dig in.

He nods. “You need to keep up your strength. We’ve still got a ways to go.”

Just when I get sucked into his generosity he says something to remind me that he is not all that he seems. He’s right. I do need to keep up my strength. I’ll need to be able to outrun him when the time comes. It’ll be a surprise when he finds out he won’t be able to use me the way he thinks.

McCoy scoots to the edge of the rock. “I was really worried about you when you left. I was kicking myself for letting you go.”

I almost choke on a bit of the rabbit. He actually sounds sincere. It’s amazing how good he is at playing this game. I swallow the meat down, intending to play right back. “I was worried about you guys too,” I lie.

McCoy’s eyes brighten and his lips curve into a familiar grin, like he really believes me. For some reason, my stomach tightens into a knot of guilt. And then I realize I wasn’t lying. There were a few times on the journey when I
was
worried about them. “When I saw those two bodies lying in the desert, I was scared it was you and Jake,” I say, but I know I say it partly to relieve my own conscience.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” I ask in an attempt to change the subject. I might as well find out as much as I can about what McCoy has scheming inside his head.

McCoy unlaces his boots. “We head out at daybreak. Millers Creek is four hours’ walk from here through what Boom calls “The Maze.”

“The Maze? That doesn’t sound good.” I scan McCoy’s face for signs of assurance this route won’t cause us any trouble.

“If we go around it, we’ll lose a full day.”

I exhale. That’s all the assurance I need.

McCoy pulls off his boots and socks and I get an unwelcome whiff of stinky feet. For some reason, this makes me happy. Maybe because it’s a flaw and now I know he’s not so perfect after all.

I must be grinning too much because McCoy looks at me funny before he continues.

“Boom told me to go to the barbershop when we get to Millers Creek and ask for Mr. Cooper. He’s a friend of Boom’s and he’ll let us into Boom’s place so we can rest up and I can get his stash of money. We’ll need it to get supplies. And maybe even answers.”

“How does Boom have a place in Millers Creek? He’s been in jail for months.”

“He paid up for a year. That’s how they do things in Criminal City. You know that’s its nickname, right?”

I nod. I had heard rumors the place was filled with criminals, but I hoped it wasn’t true. Not that I can’t hold my own in a city of thugs. “I say we leave before first light. I want to get to Gavin before any of the other prisoners. If they haven’t already.”

“Avene,” says McCoy, pulling off his shirt.

My eyes go wide at the muscles rippling over his chest. The strength that shows with every movement of his arms sends my blood pulsing a few clicks faster. I avert my eyes to the water and attempt to rein in my heartbeat.

“There’s no need to hurry,” he says, tossing his shirt on the rock next to his socks and shoes. “Think about it. No one in the past two years has found him. No one except you even knows what he looks like. We’ve got the upper hand.”

We? I have the upper hand, but I’m not about to remind McCoy of that now. “Jake said you didn’t think there were too many prisoners left in the race. How many do you think there are?”

A rustling of foliage snags our attention. Jake comes waltzing toward us from camp, looking full and satisfied.

“Speak of the devil,” says McCoy, grinning and looking past my shoulder. “Here’s what I figure. We started with fifty-one racers. King shot one before the race even started. Three other prisoners battled it out with the ‘raiders’ as you call them, but lost. Day before yesterday we met up with those same raiders who wiped out about four more prisoners. In return, Jake, Greenie Jim, and I took care of three of the raiders. One got away though.”

I know the one that got away was Clint. “He’s dead too,” I say casually.

McCoy and Jake both give me a funny look.

I shrug. “The bear took care of him,” I say and finish off my meat.

Jake high-fives me and turns to McCoy. “Hey, what about those two you killed with the cool ninja knives you found?” Jake turns to me. “You should’ve seen him, Avene. Those guys were coming after us like they was panthers and we was their prey.” Jake stops suddenly when McCoy nudges him, but he ignores him and continues. “One was about to slice my head off with his machete, but McCoy whipped out these special ninja knives and threw them straight at their hearts. They went down at the same time!”

“Really?” I say through my teeth, glaring at McCoy with my hand on my new hunter’s knife. The one that feels so right in my hand, like it was made for me. Made for a moment like this.

Jake’s mouth drops when he becomes aware of his mistake, his eyes landing on my hand at my sheath. His breath catches in his throat. “Well, actually I ain’t even sure if they were ninja knives,” he says to me, pleading with his eyes for me not to do something drastic.

“It’s okay, Jake,” says McCoy. “Go on back to camp and keep lookout.”

I leap off the rock as soon as Jake is out of sight. “You lied to me!”

McCoy reaches for me. I step back.

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I couldn’t tell you.”

I know exactly why. He wanted to leave me defenseless, or maybe he wanted to force me to depend on him. It was his way of keeping me in check. “Why didn’t you get them back after you killed the prisoners?”

McCoy steps forward. “I didn’t have time. There were others chasing us. You can have mine. The offer still stands.”

Jake didn’t mention that others were chasing them. I don’t know what to believe. This could be another lie. Everything McCoy says adds up to me being his passport to freedom. McCoy not telling me about the reward for my head. Not telling me about my knives. Tracking me. “I don’t want your knives,” I say, snatching my flannel from the rock next to him. “I just wanted the truth.”