I say. ‘I don’t care what happens. I’m not going without Rona.’
Sky grabs me by the arm. ‘Don’t be a fool. It’s a tough call, but Chane’s right. We’ve got a long way to go and dayshine is wasting. Look, Kyle, if your mother was coming, she’d have been here hours ago. I don’t think –’
I shrug her off. ‘Don’t think what?’
‘Your shack went up in flames so fast. She won’t have got out.’
‘No way. I saw her.’
‘You saw what you wanted to see.’
I’m about to contradict her when I glimpse movement on the trail.
‘Look,’ I say, excited. ‘Here she is. I told you –’
Only it isn’t Rona.
Two men step out from trees on to the trail, a long way below us. A dog pulls one of them along. Their faces, round under their hats, look up at us. Dog man, who could be one of the Fergusons, points his pulse rifle up in the air.
I see the green flash and hear the thump.
The hunter’s signal – prey spotted.
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