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

She’d evidently assumed personal responsibility for the mess at Joya de Cerén.

‘But if we do,’ Alexis said, forcing the issue, ‘we’ll need Jason coherent.’

Slater asked, ‘You think he’ll be more useful without painkillers in him? Look at him.’

They were so fixated on the conversation, they didn’t realise King was smiling with his eyes closed, exposing crimson-stained teeth.

Violetta said, ‘What is it?’

He murmured, ‘You don’t think I can handle a couple more Oxys?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Antônia, what dosage are these?’

‘Ten milligrams. Give him two.’

‘Three,’ King mumbled.

‘Two,’ Violetta said. ‘You need another one later, you take it.’

He conceded. She shook two small white pills into her palm and pressed them through his lips. He swallowed them dry with a single gulp. Then he lapsed into stoic silence, waiting for them to kick in.

Slater turned his attention to Antônia. ‘You okay?’

‘My nose is broken.’

‘Join the club.’

Along with King and Slater’s swollen noses, now there were more people in the car with cracked septums than without.

He said, ‘How’s your chest?’

‘My windpipe’s killing me,’ she said. ‘I think I did internal damage trying to get my breath back. But I’ll be fine.’

‘What happened?’

She sighed. ‘I was buried under some foliage. Had my knife and my piece on me. But, like I said, I’m from Alonzo’s side of the secret world. Clearly I know nothing about the other side. I thought I could handle myself. Then that Opal guy was right on top of me, and I didn’t even realise until he stood on me, flipped me over, put a gun in my face. They disarmed me, went to shoot me. I guess I accepted it. I think I closed my eyes, but it’s hard to remember. Then he hit me in the face, broke my nose, and before I realised what was happening the other one front-kicked me in the chest. I thought he’d stopped my heart. I couldn’t breathe. Opal shoved me toward the ruins and told me to run. Told me to scream, or he’d shoot me. I would have shouted regardless. I was trying to get my breath back…’

She trailed off, trying to hold it together.

He could see how the recitation affected her. She was rattled to the core. Her life as a solo operative relied on self-confidence instilled by ruthless training. She had to think, had to know, that she was the best. Then the hunters had toyed with her, manhandled her, used her as bait. They were fellow countrymen, but it was terrifying to know there was someone twice as good out there, someone who could put a bullet in your head whenever they pleased.

Fellow countrymen, Slater realised.

His insides tightened.

He said, ‘I’m sorry.’

She glanced over. ‘For what?’

‘Now they know.’

She nodded. ‘Looks like you four aren’t the only ones who need to disappear anymore.’

Slater thought hard. His stomach twisted tighter. ‘Can they trace it back to Alonzo?’

Antônia was already pale. Her lips were a hard line. She didn’t answer.

From the back, Violetta said, ‘I don’t think it matters.’

Slater turned in his seat. ‘What?’

Her eyes were solemn. ‘I’ve called him twice since we touched down. He hasn’t answered. He always answers. No matter what.’

Slater bowed his head.

66

Violetta said, ‘We have to assume the worst. That he was caught trying to make us invisible at McCarran. Which ended up serving no purpose anyway, because they were already on us.’

Alexis said, ‘If they were already on us, it explains why he was caught.’

Violetta put her head in her hands. The adrenaline of the firefight at Joya de Cerén had worn off, replaced by the weight of ruining the lives of everyone that had helped them.

Antônia said, ‘We’ll sort this out.’

Slater didn’t like foolish optimism. He ignored the reassurance, and no one spoke.

They covered the rest of the distance to Santa Ana without a word. The quiet in the truck was morbid. By the time they crawled into the south of the city, the storm had receded, leaving humid dampness in its wake. Many of the streets in the cramped barrios were flooded, but the gutters and uneven sidewalks teemed with Salvadorans regardless. These people had to be out here; they weren’t afforded the luxury of being able to sit at home in adverse weather.

Antônia said, ‘My place is up north. We’ll bunker down there and sort this mess out.’

Slater voiced the obvious. ‘If America knows you’re sheltering us, they’ll feed the hunters that intel. They’ll come straight for us.’

‘They don’t know where I’m staying. I handled my own logistics.’

‘They let you do that?’

‘Sometimes I don’t give them the option. You remember your time in service. The leeway you were afforded. The best get the best treatment.’

‘They might still know.’

She shook her head. ‘When I tell them I’m doing it my way, I do it my way. I paid three weeks’ rent in cash. There isn’t a trace of digital record.’

Slater rested back, satisfied for now.

He heard Violetta murmur something in King’s ear, then repeat it a little louder.

Then she said, ‘Jason?’

Loud.

Slater knew something wasn’t right.

He turned to look. King’s head was lolled back, his eyes now half-open. They were milky and unfocused, gazing around in primitive wonder.

Violetta couldn’t keep the worry at bay. She shook him by the shoulder. ‘Jason.’

No answer.

‘Is he going into shock?’ Violetta asked Slater.

Alexis sat silent beside King, clearly uncomfortable.

Slater stared long and hard at King. Recognised all the symptoms.

‘No,’ he said.

He turned to Antônia. ‘Those weren’t tens.’

She already knew.

Her face was drained of colour, her eyes wide. She still had one hand on the wheel, but the other rummaged through the pouch at the front of her belt. She dug her fingernails to the bottom, worked them around, and came out with another unmarked pill bottle. She stared at it for a beat, gulped hard, and fought the urge to lower her head to the top of the wheel.

Slater said, ‘What?’

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m so fucking sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.’

‘Just tell me.’

Her face was aghast as she held up the