The Tiger dove back out the front! door.
“I'm not armed,” said Ian Flaherty and raised both hands in the air. “Don't shoot me. I don't know what happened to your family. That wasn't my doing, none of it. Don't shoot me!”
I drove my shoulder hard into Flaherty's chest and then ran past him after the Tiger. Sampson threw me a gun on the way out.
“Use it!” he yelled.
Cross Country
Chapter 144
IT WAS DARK outside, scarily black, and cold as the middle of winter. Just a sliver of moon was visible, with low clouds sliding fast across the night sky. I didn't see the Tiger anywhere.
But then I caught a wisp of movement to the right of the dirt trail we'd taken to the house.
“Alex!” I heard Bree call behind me. I didn't call back to her. I ran ahead and hoped she wouldn't follow, that she couldn't see me in the darkness. I wanted to get to the Tiger first, just me and him.
“Alex!” Bree shouted again. “Don't do it this way. Alex! Alex!”
I continued to track movement, the faint outline of a man running up ahead. Or just noise sometimes, the rustle of branches. I was concentrating on that-when a shadow flew at me out of the brush.
I spun sideways and fired a shot into the chest of a killer in a white tee and white baseball cap. One of the boys! He grunted and fell over in a heap. I kept on running after the Tiger.
He was moving fast, but so was I. Two downhill skiers on a dark slope. I was gaining on him a little but not enough. I didn't call out. I just ran with everything I had in me. There was nothing in my mind except catching him. No caution, not anymore. No fear for myself.
I could hear his heavy footfall, and his breathing, which sounded ragged. Still, I didn't call to him. I held my gun out-and I fired twice. I fired low so 1 wouldn't kill him by mistake. I needed to keep him alive so I could find out where my family was.
I didn't think I hit him, but he turned his body, and that caused him to stumble. I put on an extra burst of speed. I was gaining on him now. I could make out more details, see him clearly.
Then I dove for his legs!
I nearly missed, but I caught him around the ankles and he crashed down on his chest and face and hit his head hard on a rock.
I crawled over him on my hands and knees. Then I went up on my haunches and punched down with all my strength.
My fist connected with his jaw. Sweat and blood flew out to the sides.
“Fucker! Traitor!” he yelled at me, growling like a jungle cat under attack.
“My family-where are they? What happened to them?” I shouted.
Then I punched him again, with everything I had, all the anger and rage living inside. This time he lost a tooth, but he was strong, even hurt like this, and he finally threw me off.
Then he was on me! I shielded my head with my arms and he struck my wrist, perhaps breaking it, I thought. But I didn't make a sound. I arched my body several inches. I managed to grab him around the neck and hold on. I didn't know where the strength was coming from, or how long it would last.
I tried to head-butt him, and because of the odd angle I was at, I connected with his Adam's apple. He gagged, then spit phlegm and blood.
“My family!” I yelled again.
“Fuck your family!” he cursed. “Fuck your kids! Fuck you!”
Then he got to the hunting knife. I was still thinking that I had to keep him alive-not that I had to survive this, but that he did. I held his knife hand at the wrist, but I was losing my grip. The fight was turning his way. This was it; this was how I died. I would never know about Nana, Ali, Jannie. That was the worst part, not knowing.
A shot rang in the night.
The Tiger straightened up, but then he came back down at me with the knife. “Die!” he yelled. “Like your family died!”
A second shot struck where his right eye had been glaring at me a second before.
“Where are they?” I yelled again. “Where is my family?”
He didn't say another word. His good eye was all hatred. The rest of his face was a bloody mess. The Tiger couldn't answer. He collapsed on me, dead.
“Where are they?” I whispered.
Cross Country
