His eyes flickered. Had she pushed him too far? She tensed and waited for the impact of bullet on bone. The seconds ticked. How long would he make her wait before he fired? Then, Gilmont turned and fired on his companion at point-blank range, hitting the young man in the shoulder.

The skinny man teetered and went down, his eyes wide with shock—his scream swallowed by the noise of the falls.

Bile burned in Elise’s throat.

“You’re next,” Gilmont mouthed, his eyes glittering with malice.

Elise fisted her hands. Gilmont would torture his compatriot to force her compliance? Diabolical.

She assessed the distance between herself and the rifle, frustrated that her body did not respond with the force or swiftness of a few months ago. Once, she could have reached it. Could she disarm Gilmont from this angle? Highly unlikely. She needed a distraction—something to give her an edge.

Unable to move, she shifted her gaze to the tree line, widened her eyes for the merest second, then reschooled her features to an expressionless mask.

Gilmont swiveled to the left, his eyes sweeping to the trees. Her hand shot out and gripped the rifle as she sprinted past. Gilmont whirled and aimed the Glock at her.

She swung the rifle butt like a cricket bat and tipped the Glock’s barrel as it belched fire. A warm breeze stirred her hair.

Dropping the firearm, she tucked and rolled, her hands snatching up loose rocks and dirt. She came up beyond Gilmont and kicked out with her boot, sending Gilmont to one knee. Unbridled hatred distorted his features. He swung the Glock around and let off another round, the bullet passing into the forest behind her.

Breathless, Elise jumped to her feet and circled to his left beside the chasm. She pulled back her arm and flung the rain-sodden dirt and rocks into Gilmont’s face.

He opened his mouth in a silent scream, his fingers digging at his eyes. Spinning about, Elise sprinted for the trees. Could she lead him away from the clearing—away from Sammy?

She could never win against a gun, nor did she have the stamina for more than a few well-placed kicks. Elise whipped around a tree as bark exploded beside her, a bullet imbedding in the trunk. That was close. Too close. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Gilmont was a better shot than she had anticipated.

And he had two bullets left.

She couldn’t run. He’d plug her. She had already distracted him once; Gilmont would never fall for that a second time. Before she could aim her sgian dubh, he would shoot her. Her timing was too slow. She was cornered.