Page 135 of Death is Familiar

I did it anyway.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t leave you here.”

Three broke into tears, the full-on wailing sob she’d adopted whenever someone brought up One. And I felt guilty.

Shit.

31

Three was still a blubbering mess an hour later, still, I pulled her through the woods behind me. I was going to give her one chance to explain herself. One. And it had to make sense, otherwise she was about to be abandoned in the middle of the water-logged woods.

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” I spoke low as we quick-stepped through the underbrush.

I was hoping enough time had passed from Three’s initial onslaught of tears that when she spoke it would be at a reasonable volume. But her crying renewed, and she was at risk of dehydrating herself. I needed to wait, though not for much longer.

While we worked our way through the woods, I tried to unpack what occurred in the swamp, not just Three’s behavior, but the strange unfolding of events, and I’d come to the conclusion that the snapping turtle had been someone’s pet. Probably illegally kept, fed dog food, then released when it got too big. Which was a lot more common occurrence than one might think. Despite my displeasure at someone keeping a wild animal as a pet, the thought made me hopeful. Because of what it could mean.

That we were close to civilization.

Even though we wanted to avoid the roads, being near a public place meant our odds of success increased.

It was simple. Town good, road bad. Because roads could be isolated. Roads didn’t have cameras. And they certainly made it easier for our pursuers to not only catch up to us, but capture us and take us back to the dungeon, without anyone else ever knowing.

Towns, on the other hand, had phones. People. Witnesses.

But witnesses could be a two-way street. They could easily speak to law enforcement should our pursuers try to take us in a public setting, but they could just as easily tell our pursuers where we were last seen.

We needed to fly under the radar. Not make a scene. For that, I needed to be sure that if we got to a public place, Three wasn’t actively working against me.

And I most definitely needed to put an end to the crying.

Coming to an abrupt stop, I spun to confront the woman-child. “That’s enough.”

Three inhaled deeply like she was about to let a renewed stream of tears fall.

“No, no more tears,” I snapped. I’d been kind enough already. And being kind to the wrong people in my line of work killed. “I need answers, now, or we go our separate ways. Nod if you understand.”

Her head bobbed up and down.

“Good. Now, why did you betray me?”

The timing of my renewed questioning had been planned. I’d waited not only for Three to stop crying, but to give myself an advantage. If I needed to extricate myself from the situation, I needed a way that Three couldn’t, or wouldn’t, follow me. The answer was the large stretch of swamp that stood before us.

It was expansive. It was sulfuric. It was still, with a film of iridescent oil that would have been pretty if not for what I had to do.

Here bald, knotted, trees dotted the waterline. It stank of death and decay. And I was going to traipse right down the middle of it.

Yay, me.

“I… I didn’t betray you, Two. I didn’t, I⁠—”

“You betrayed me.” Anger flashed, gnashing its pointed teeth. “I wasn’t asking if, I was asking why.”

She shifted foot to foot. “Madame was concerned you would hurt yourself. Said if you ever made it out you would be in danger.”

“When?”

“When she gave me the treat bag.”