Chapter 98.
As Wyatt walks toward the woods, he sees two guards come out carrying a stretcher.
There is clearly a body on it, covered with a thick blanket. But as thick as the blanket is, Wyatt can see the bloodstains seeping through it.
Ant Tipton is walking behind the stretcher.
As he passes Wyatt, Tipton only slows long enough to say, “Hope you do better than he did.”
He starts to walk past Wyatt—then hesitates like he wants to say something else. Something softer. He doesn’t. His hand goes to the chain around his neck instead, thumb working the clasp, and he keeps moving.
Wyatt doesn’t answer. He can’t. Because he sees something in Tipton’s face that scares him more than the blood.
Not pride. Not satisfaction. Something closer to . . . disgust.
Or regret.
Wyatt forces himself to keep walking.
He and Zhi had just watched Marcelo Oliveira win his fight against Fumio Hase, jiujitsu on this day ultimately triumphing over karate.
The competition, which became more and more vicious, had ended when Marcelo used what he explained afterward was a “Kimura lock” to pin Fumio to the ground.
Once he did have him down, he immobilized Fumio with a forearm pressed against the other man’s neck.
There had been a moment when Wyatt thought Marcelo might choke Fumio to death before he’d pulled his arm back and Fumio was able to breathe again.
So the last duel of this day is between Wyatt and Zhi, someone else he has come to like. They will be using the same old-fashioned revolvers Wyatt saw Tipton carrying.
By the time Wyatt is all the way into the woods, night has started to fall. But even in the gathering twilight, Wyatt knows that when the time comes, there will be more than enough light for him to see Zhi.
And, likewise, for Zhi to see him.
Then they will both discover how far they are willing to take this.
But Wyatt knows that all of this—him, Lin Zhi, Tipton, Saad al-Harbi, these guns—was never supposed to have gone as far as it has. He isn’t supposed to be out here feeling he has a target on his back.
Or, more accurately, one on his chest.
Wyatt’s mind does the thing it always does in crisis—tries to run away.
He knows he could have pressed his button before he came out here. Probably should have pressed it before he got anywhere near the line of fire.
I should be back at the cottages saying goodbye to Hannah.
Telling her the truth, and not just about my feelings.
Letting her know the person I really am.
And the one I’m about to be.
He almost laughs at himself.
Too late for that now.
After everything that has happened since he was in the water in Antarctica that very first day, trying to save Hannah Wagner, the life Wyatt now needs to save is his own.
And he has no idea what saving it is going to cost.
Or if he’s willing to pay it.