CHAPTER 42
The rush of blood through his dilated veins was an audible thing to Steadman, the pulse pounding in his eardrums. The fleeing man was armed and willing to use his weapon against those in pursuit. He couldn’t have been able to see and take aim, but his random shot through the wall of vegetation had hit a target. Steadman heard low moaning from one of the men behind him.
A desperate thrashing twenty yards ahead told Steadman the quarry was on the move again, heading away from their position. The late afternoon sun, blocked by the tall pines and screened by ash, did little to illuminate the scene. Steadman caught a few brief glimpses of the man’s dark blue jacket before he evaporated into the sooty mist, the sound of his exit fading fast.
The lingering odor of burnt gunpowder fi
