*
“Did you find anything?” Richard said as Lucian and three others returned to the clearing.
Lucian kicked a charred log in two. “Nothing,” he panted. “They just disappeared.”
Norman was crouched over the body of the emaciated stranger, patting his pockets. The rank odour of perspiration and urine rose from the body in waves.
“They didn’t leave any tracks?” Norman asked.
Lucian shook his head again. “Nothing from that quiet one,” he said, “he’s just gone.” He gripped Norman’s shoulder. “I couldn’t see from back there. Did you get a good look at him?”
Norman shuddered at the memory of the silent man’s emerald peepers. Unsure of why he was doing it, he shook his head. “What about the other one?” he said.
Lucian cursed. “There’s blood everywhere. He made a right mess when he ran off. I don’t think he’ll last long by himself.”
Norman looked out at the darkness. Then he sat down on a log beside the dead man, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. “He wasn’t like them,” he said. “He was trying to help us.”
“He hung out with the wrong crowd.” Lucian’s expression flickered. “We can’t save everyone, Norman.”
Richard crouched beside Norman. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know I messed up.” His face had fallen, his expression sorrowful, repentant. “I just got in the way. Maybe if I’d just done what I was told… I just wanted to help.”
Norman heard him as though from far away. But despite his weariness, he forced his hand to Richard’s shoulder. “No,” he said, “you saved my life. Thank you.”
Richard still looked ashamed, but a glimmer of a smile played on his lips. “All the same, maybe I’ll stick to the classroom from now on.”
Norman managed a smile. “Don’t count yourself out just yet.”
“At least we scared them off,” John said, tying a haphazard bandage around the arm of one of the guards. The bullet wound was already bleeding through. He was eyeing Richard carefully, a slight frown upon his brow.
Lucian scowled. “What good is that?” he said. “Two got away, and one of them is perfectly capable of bringing others right to us. They already know they can waltz right onto our streets and slit our throats.”
“But why?” Richard said. “We didn’t get an answer… Why would somebody do this?”
A silence fell over them as they stared about themselves. A concentrated sense of isolation had crystallised from the ether, making the short distance that separated them from home seem far greater. The trees seemed suddenly sinister, as though their darkened bark concealed untold evils.
Norman thought he sensed something change about Lucian—he seemed to stiffen and avert his gaze. But he said nothing. Norman sighed. “That doesn’t matter now.” He stood up. “We need to get back. We’re going to be missed.”
He made the comment in passing, without thinking. He was therefore surprised when everybody, including Lucian, froze mid-action and set about gathering their things, preparing to leave.
He watched them, disbelieving, and felt his gut squirm with distant unease. They were looking to him.
They left the emaciated man’s body in the clearing beside the dying fire. At the tree line, Norman looked back at his sprawled profile, slumped against the oak. The pity he’d felt moments before was now overshadowed by fear of retribution.
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