There’s a hot, sharp pressure against the back of Matiu’s throat. He chokes back the need to vomit. Something Penny told him, about disturbing the scene of a crime. He doubts vomit spatter on a murder victim’s body will go over well with Tanner and the boys. Or with Penny, for that matter.
“You can stop swearing. He can’t hear you.” Something creaks in the shadows beyond the doorframe that leads into the cabin’s back room, the room that Matiu remembers as the bunk room. Metal, maybe, and squeaking rubber? Hard to tell. He takes a deep shuddering breath, gets to his knees, and turns towards the voice. “Hanson,” he says, before he can see the man. “What the hell is going on?” His voice is trembling almost as much as his hands. But where there’s one gun, there’s bound to be another.
“Your d
