Hunters by Matt Rogers (books for 5 year olds to read themselves .TXT) 📕

stomach sank, seeing her slightly hunched over, her face creased in an attempt to mask the pain. He admired her beyond description. She’d sensed that he and King were injured worse, and hadn’t uttered a word about it until they were in a safe place. Compartmentalising it. Prioritising what mattered.

He crossed to her and put an arm around her shoulder, taking some of her weight. She breathed out, and her breath came out ragged. She was hurting bad.

He lowered her to an old armchair in the corner of the tiny living space that was connected to the kitchen. He brought his face close to hers and muttered, ‘How bad?’

As soon as she admitted it, it hit her hard. He could tell. She said, ‘I’ve never broken a rib. I don’t know what it feels like. But it’s bad.’

‘Breathe in deep.’

She inhaled fully. Her face was white with pain, but there was no sharp twang, no point at which her breath hit a wall of pure agony.

He said, ‘It might be torn muscles. It might not be a break.’

When he stood up and turned back to King and Violetta, his confidence was blunted, and his own pain levels had crept up.

‘Okay,’ he admitted. ‘Standing our ground isn’t smart.’

Violetta looked pointedly at King.

He paused, then nodded, his arm still pinned to his side.

Violetta killed the mute function on the call. ‘You still there?’

‘Of course.’

‘We’re not in a good place. We need time.’

‘That you don’t have.’

His words filled the safe house, which felt like a chasm. Dread made even the smallest spaces feel vast.

Violetta said, ‘What do you know?’

‘Nothing specific. But I know what this world is capable of. So do you.’

‘Can’t you delay them?’

‘It’s not my division,’ he said.

Silence.

Violetta said, ‘There’s other divisions?’

Alexis cleared her throat from the armchair. Her voice came out timid, but she knew she needed to speak. ‘I talked to that guy who went toe-to-toe with Will. The one who didn’t pull his weapon.’

Slater wheeled. ‘When?’

‘He was alive when we went back into the house.’

Slater remembered the man’s throat erupting. ‘How?’

‘He was hanging by a thread. He told me his name was Spinel. Like the gemstone. It was a callsign. He said he was an operator, like you and Jason. He said he was forced to pivot into a new division when you two “gutted the backbone” of the old one. I could tell he hated you.’

‘Why did he tell you this?’

‘He was dying,’ Alexis said. ‘And I used a trick or two I picked up in Wyoming.’

Maeve, Slater thought. The messiah.

Alexis never failed to impress him with her versatility and composure in the field.

Alonzo’s tinny voice said, ‘They all go by gemstones.’

‘Who are they?’ King said.

‘The new breed.’

31

King made to ask the inevitable follow-up questions, but Alexis’ soft moan cut him off.

He wheeled on the spot. She had her eyes closed, her fists clenched.

He said to Slater, ‘You remember where the first-aid stuff is?’

‘I put it there.’

‘Lie her down,’ King said. ‘She needs rest. And so do you.’

He could see Slater weighing the urge to stick around against the fact he’d reached his limits. Whether it was due to experience or common sense, he nodded his agreement. Then he helped Alexis up out of the armchair and walked her slowly away down the corridor.

It was just King, Violetta, and the phone. King quietly draped an arm around her shoulder and held her close as they hunched over the phone.

King said, ‘They’re the remnants of Black Force?’

‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say remnants,’ Alonzo said. ‘They’re the leftovers, yes. They had to be put to use somewhere. I don’t think the upper echelon liked the way it used to be structured — how it was spread out, how many people were in the know. So they holed up the operatives who showed the most potential and put a blanket over them. I know almost nothing about it, and I’m practically the head of intelligence. Not an official title, obviously, but everyone comes to me for a reason. They became paranoid when they realised the operatives could do what you and Slater did. Wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve brainwashed them into undying loyalty. It’s all run by someone called Onyx.’

‘Who is he?’

‘I don’t know. That’s what the callsigns are for. They use them with us, too. They’re their own separate entity. They do the wet work even I’m not allowed to know about.’

King didn’t respond. He was deep in thought. He didn’t like a single conclusion he came to.

Alonzo said, ‘What are you thinking?’

‘That by Slater and I running, we created something worse.’

‘You did.’

That was Alonzo: straight to the point. Right to the cold, hard truth.

Violetta said, ‘Are there still handlers like me?’

‘Onyx is the only handler.’

‘There were at least a dozen when I was there…’

King raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know that.

Alonzo said, ‘They’re gone, Violetta.’

‘Fired?’ she said, even though she knew the truth.

‘Fired? So they could go off with state secrets in their head like you three did?’

‘Four,’ King corrected. ‘Us four.’

Alonzo said, ‘I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Alexis, but it’d be foolish to say she knows what you know.’

King thought back to a lifetime of deniable hits he’d carried out for a government that was supposed to be morally pristine. ‘You’re right.’

Violetta said, ‘So what’s all this leading to? Why don’t we have time?’

‘Because now they have their first sniff of you,’ Alonzo said. ‘That’s all they needed, and that’s what I was fighting to keep from them. They hate you with every fibre of their being, so now they’re hounds on your tail. Well, Onyx hates you, and based on what I’ve heard, what Onyx thinks is law.’

‘You must know something about them,’ King said. ‘Anything.’

‘You underestimate how powerful fear and paranoia are. No one knows a thing besides the hunters themselves. They can go places that not even the clandestine world could dream of.’

‘They work with the Presidency?’

‘They are the Presidency.’

King put the knuckles of his good hand on