I dove before he could finish the thought and fire at me. But rather than dive toward him and the pistol he held leveled at my chest, I dove to the side, angling to put myself behind him and beyond the arc of his rear-facing arm. Juykes took an awkward step backward trying to follow me, though I was sure he couldn’t see me given the direction he was facing.
Then I understood. “Hunter! He’s tracking us with the band on his head!”
Juykes spun to face me and brought both pistols to bear, a hint of frustration on his twisted lips.
And then Hunter sprang from behind his latest tree with a thick cylinder clutched in one hand. As soon as he appeared, Juykes began to pivot again, his right hand spinning back to target Hunter.
But Hunter was faster. And his aim was true.
He triggered the brill
