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.

Back inside the cabin, she heard Kemel moaning for a doctor.

“Hey, Jack!” Baker shouted. “Or whatever your name is. Come out where I can see you or your girlfriend gets it!”

“I’m not his—”

“Shut up!” he hissed, jamming the muzzle harder against her scalp. “Not a fucking word from you!”

And then she saw Jack, moving between the trees. He stopped and stared at them, but said nothing. Then slowly, deliberately, he raised his middle finger.

“You son of a—!” Baker said.

Suddenly the muzzle was gone from her temple, and the pistol was extended before her, firing at Jack. The reports were deafening.

Jack ducked to his left and popped up next to another tree. Baker pumped more rounds at him. But Jack was gone again, only to pop up somewhere else. Baker fired again.