Allixon disorganized back against the wall of the ridge, wincing as Jolene's head thudded onto the pavement. She forced herself to require slow deep breaths, battling down the instinct to hyperventilate. Forcing down panic and replacing it with cool reason.
There'd been no answer on the link. Not for hours and hours. Trevor wasn't reaching to suddenly seem simply once she required him, and rescue her.
Think. Think. There was either some lunatic running around on the Island, or Logan's cloaked men weren't searching with paint guns. Jolene, whom Allixon had ne'er fully sure, was dead. She would necessitate her later. Her solely thought currently was her survival.
Did the shooter recognize she was up there? Was he observance, expecting her to reveal herself? Or did he assume Jolene had bee
