This Fallen Prey (Rockton #3)(117)

“Harper,” I say. “Step away from the plane.”

She turns and sees the gun. Hers starts to rise, but Anders barrels through, saying, “Drop the weapon!”

She looks toward the open main doors. Dalton appears there with his gun trained on her.

“Weapon down!” Anders barks. “Now!”

“Do as he says, hon.” Wallace’s muffled voice emerges from inside the plane. “They will shoot you.”

She lowers her gun to the ground.

“Shit, it’s just a kid,” Anders says, as he gets his first good look at her.

“A kid who murdered three of her fellow settlers. Including her own grandmother.”

Harper just levels her gaze on me, and I’ve seen that look before, in teens I’ve arrested. Some cry. Some rage. Some just give me this look, a cold So what?

It’s chilling enough when it’s a kid I’ve arrested for breaking into a house. For this? “Chilling” does not begin to describe it.

I want to ask, “Why?” But I know better. I’ll just see another look like I did when I arrested those kids, when I felt compelled to ask why, and they rolled their eyes like I was just another stupid grown-up, asking stupid questions.

The “why?” isn’t about motive. It’s more of a “how?” How could you do such a thing? That is a question Harper cannot answer. No one can.

“You said Albie wanted to go back and steal the horses,” I say. “But your grandmother and the other man stopped him. You still wanted to do it, though. You told Albie that, after the others went to sleep, didn’t you?”

“He acted like I was a little kid. He ignored me. I had a plan for getting the horses. He wouldn’t listen. When I said I’d go myself, he threatened to whip me. Whip me. Then he said even if I stayed in camp, he was going to tell my grandmother. She’d have to tell Edwin, and I’d never get to go on another hunting trip again.”

“So you waited until he went back to his guard post, snuck up, and slit his throat. Except the old man heard, so you had to kill him. And then your grandmother. She tried to get away. You couldn’t let her. You chased her down and stabbed her.”

“It was Albie’s fault. He was going to tattle on me because I offered to help him get those horses.”

“It wasn’t the horses you wanted. It was the dog.”

Her lip curls. “I don’t care now. I don’t need a dog. I’m going down south.”

“And Mr. Wallace here is going to buy all the puppies you want, right? You really are a child, aren’t you, Harper?”

She yanks a knife from her pocket. I just hold my gun on her.

She sneers. “You won’t shoot me.”

She reaches into the cockpit to cut the strap on Wallace’s hand. I lunge to grab her, but a voice says, “I can’t let you do that, Casey.”

Phil’s pointing a gun at me.

“She’s a child,” he says. “I know you’re upset, but we can resolve this without violence.”

Anders lets out a ragged laugh. “Please tell me you’re part of this escape attempt. Because otherwise you’re the biggest idiot alive.”

He’s not part of it. If Phil planned to spirit Wallace off to safety, Wallace wouldn’t be letting Harper free him. She’s cut the strap on his hands, and now she’s pointing the knife at me as Wallace climbs into the pilot’s seat.

“Guess you have your pilot’s license after all,” I say.

“Of course,” Wallace says. “Harper?”

She backs into the passenger seat.

Phil comes around the side of the plane. “This is pointless, Gregory. You will be a hunted man. Don’t take a child into that.”

“Oh for God’s sake,” I mutter. “You really are an idiot.” I raise my gun. “Wallace? Get out of the plane.”

Harper’s hand swings up, and I’m thinking it’s just the knife. It’s not.

I backpedal. Phil grabs me as if I’m . . . I don’t know. Fleeing? Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dalton lunge. Then Harper presses the button, and the pepper spray hits me full in the face. I double over, blinded. Phil howls in agony. Even Dalton curses, as stray particles hit him.

Anders shouts “Stop!” but he’s the farthest away, unable to fire from his angle. I hear the door slamming, the plane rolling, Anders yells. A shot fires. Another, hitting metal. Then the engine roars as the plane takes off.





62





Wallace and Harper escape. Dalton goes to get our plane out, but Harper has cut wires in the engine. By the time he could fix it, they’d be gone.

The council claims they’ll go after Wallace. I don’t know if that’s true. I don’t think Phil does either. I don’t bother asking him. I can barely get him to tell me what they’ve said. He walks out of that radio meeting and says, “I have to stay.”

“Until they figure this out?” I ask.

A slow shake of his head, his gaze blank. “I don’t know. I don’t . . . They said this is my fault. So I stay.”

At that moment, seeing the look on his face, if I could muster any sympathy for him, I would. But I can’t. All I can think is Not again. Once more, we are saddled with a leader who does not want to be here. The council has learned nothing from Val.