"No you don't," Jack said, and grabbed his wrist.

The struggle was a short one. Weakened by lack of air, Barlowe didn't have the strength to pull free of Jack's grip.

Finally, he sagged.

But Jack wasn't about to release the vine. Barlowe could be playing possum.

Just then the bark on the trunk above Jack's head exploded into stinging fragments to the rattling tune of assault weapon fire.

He ducked and turned. He spotted the other merc, Kenny, about fifty yards away, crashing toward him.

Kenny whooped and yelled. "Hey, Barlowe! What're you shooting at? I found him! He's over here! Yo, Barlowe! Over here!"

Jack released the vine and crawled around to Barlowe's side of the tree. The merc's face was blue-tinged, his eyes closed as his body sagged to its knees.

On the far side he could hear Kenny's noisy progress, yelling and firing short bursts as he approached.

"Gotcha now, fucker! Say your prayers, 'cause you got about a minute to live. Hope you're shittin' your pants, fucker. Hey, yo, Barlowe! Where are you, man? You're gonna miss the fun!"

"Barlowe's right here," Jack whispered. "Waiting for you."

Jack grabbed Barlowe's Tec-9 but its strap was wrapped and twisted around his arm. He yanked first, then tried to untangle it, and all the while he could hear Kenny crashing closer.

"Dammit!" he hissed as he fumbled for the strap release.

And then pain blazed through the front of Jack's left thigh. For an instant he thought he'd been shot, then he looked down and saw Barlowe's knife dropping out of a bloody slit in his jeans, and Barlowe staring up at him with the reddest whites Jack had ever seen.

And Kenny just on the other side of the tree.

Ignoring the pain in his leg as best he could, Jack hauled Barlowe to his feet—had to hand it to the guy, he was one tough, determined son of a bitch—and faced him toward Kenny's sounds. As he held him up he wriggled his hand under the merc's right arm, searching for the Tec-9's grip.

Kenny arrived with his own Tec blazing, and Jack felt the jolting impact of the slugs tearing into Barlowe.

"Oh, Christ!" Kenny wailed as the shooting stopped. "Barlowe, what—?"

Jack couldn't see Kenny, but he could imagine his expression. Jack's questing finger found the trigger of Barlowe's Tec then, and he pulled it. He had no idea where he was aiming, he simply started firing blind and wild, and hoped the clip wouldn't run out.

He chanced a peek over Barlowe's shoulder and saw Kenny stumbling backward, arms and eyes wide, his chest a bloody ruin.

Jack released Barlowe and his Tec, letting him fall forward. Both mercs hit the ground about the same time.

And then Jack sagged against the big tree, clutching his bloody thigh. It hurt like hell every time he moved his leg.

Just what I need, he thought.

But at least he was no longer the only unarmed man on the hill.

9.

The gunfire had stopped.

"Well," Baker said, "that's it for your boyfriend."

He leaned against the desk, his pistol still in his hand.

"You don't know that," Alicia said.

She could not imagine Jack dead. He seemed too resourceful to be dead. But then, she'd only seen him playing his tricks. She'd never seen him in a gunfight. And no matter how good he was, how could he overcome two men armed with automatic weapons?

"I do know that," Baker said. "All that shooting can mean only one thing: They cornered him and had some fun with him. Probably shot up his legs first, then started moving around the rest of his body. By the time they were through, he was probably begging them to kill him."

Fearing she might vomit, Alicia turned away. Jack—Just Jack—dead. Add one more to the list of men dead because of her. She'd involved him in this. He'd come willingly, but still, if she'd just let it go, let Thomas have the damn house, they'd all be alive, and she wouldn't be trapped in the woods with these human monsters.

She heard a loud, celebratory whoop from somewhere outside the cabin.

Baker straightened and crossed the room, grinning.

"That's Kenny. He's a noisy son of a bitch."

Another whoop.

Baker stepped outside and stood with hands on hips, staring toward the tree line.

10.

Jack trained Barlowe's Tec-9 on the cabin door and let out a whoop, hoping he sounded enough like Kenny to draw Baker out.

He leaned against a tree trunk to take the weight off his left leg. The trees were smaller here and didn't provide much cover. Hopefully he wouldn't need it.

Off to his right, Yoshio's body was a pale blotch among the weeds.

His leg throbbed and burned. He'd cinched the shoulder strap from the Tec above the wound, and that had slowed the bleeding, but it did nothing for the pain.

He whooped again.

Come on, Baker. Show your ugly face.

If he'd had a pistol, he'd have been sneaking up on the cabin now. But with only this Tec, no way he could risk charging inside and shooting. Not with Alicia in there. These damn things were too inaccurate. No telling who he'd hit once he pulled the trigger.

And if he'd taken the time to limp to the car for the 9mm he'd stashed there, Baker would have figured something was wrong and be ready for him.

So it had to be this way. He only wished he was closer. Marksmanship had never been his strong point, and with a Tec-9 at this distance he'd have to rely far more on luck than skill.

Just then Baker stepped out into the open, looking around for Kenny. Jack pulled the Tec's trigger and emptied the magazine at him.

The corner of the door above and to the right of Baker's head dissolved into a cloud of splinters, and Baker dove headfirst back into the cabin.

Furious, Jack smashed the empty Tec against the tree and hurled it into the woods.

Now what? He had a feeling things were going to get really ugly now.

11.

The explosion of gunfire had staggered Alicia. As Baker regained his feet after a flying leap into the cabin, Alicia stared at the ruined door, still shuddering and vibrating from the barrage it had absorbed, and wanted to cry with joy.

Somehow, some way, Jack was still alive. He'd not only survived, he'd come back.

"Kenny!" Baker was shouting. "Oh, Christ, he must've killed Kenny!"

She looked back at where Thomas lay. His pistol was just on the other side of him. If she could—

Baker grabbed her arm and yanked her close. His breath was sour.

"Who is he, goddammit? Where'd you find this guy?"

"His name's Jack," she said. What could it matter if Baker knew that? "That's all I know."

"Don't give me that. There's gotta be something going on between you two, otherwise he wouldn't have come back."

"No. He gets a percentage of whatever this is worth."

Another truth, but Alicia had a feeling Jack would have come back no matter what the arrangement. Baker would never understand that, but a percentage was something he could buy.

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess I'd come back for that too."

He spun her around, grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of her head, and propelled her toward the door. Her scalp stung and burned from the rough treatment.

"You're hurting me."

"You better hope that's the worst of it, honey. Because we're gonna see if you're really as valuable as you say you are."

He positioned her in the doorway and half crouched behind her, peeking over her shoulder. She felt the cool metal of the muzzle of Baker's pistol press against her temple. Down the slope, almost to the trees, lay a body. Alicia knew from its white shirt that it had to be Yoshio. She closed her eyes. Still another death.