Free The League of Night and Fog by David Morrell

able to get him to the village.
    I might have to leave him, she thought. To go for help.
    But what if he becomes delirious and wanders? What if I can’t find him?
    A bullet struck a boulder on her right. A splinter of rock sliced the back of her hand. The report from the rifle followed at once, its echo filling the pass. Ignoring the blood that dripped from her hand, she dove with Drew behind the boulder.
    In the same motion, she unholstered her pistol. As she squinted from the edge of the boulder, scanning the rocky slope on the right, searching for a target, she flinched from the impact of a second bullet spewing rock shards behind her.
    She realized sickly that the second bullet had come from the left, from the opposite side of the pass. She and Drew were trapped in a cross fire.
    “Leave me,” Drew told her weakly.
    “No.”
    “Listen.” He breathed with effort. “You can’t fight them and take care of me. I’ll get both of us killed.”
    “I told you no.”
    Almost simultaneously, two bullets threw rock shards—from behind them and from in front—so close her ears rang.
    “Their argument’s better than yours,” Drew said.
    “I didn’t come all this way to get separated again.” She scanned one slope, then the other.
    “Listen to me.”
    She was shocked to see the blood streaming from his knees where they’d landed on jagged stones.
    “Our friends up there,” he said, “they could’ve killed both of us before we knew it. They’re either lousy shots, or they missed on purpose.”
    “So?”
    A bullet from the left sprayed pebbles over Arlene’s boots. A bullet from the opposite slope
caromed
off the boulder.
    “They’ve got something else in mind,” Drew said.
    “Don’t give them a chance to keep pinning us down.” He struggled to a crouch. “Go after them. Until they get what they want, they won’t kill you unless they have to.”
    “But what about you?”
    “I’ll take my chances. I’d only hold you back. This way,
you
at least have a chance.”
    She shook her head, aiming anxiously one way, then the other, toward the rocky slopes.
    “Okay,” Drew said. “I’ll make the choice for you.”
    As weak as he was, he hefted himself to his feet and staggered from behind the boulder, knees buckling, rolling into a ravine.
    “You bullheaded … !”
    Gunshots echoed.
    She charged toward the slope on the right, diving below a mound.
    But he’d judged correctly. The bullets that sprayed stones before and behind her seemed calculated to box her in, not kill her.
    Okay, then, she thought. Let’s dance.
9
    D rew winced from the jolt as he tumbled off the rim and down the ravine. He landed hard, losing his breath. The morning sun was still so low its rays didn’t penetrate to the bottom. In shadow, he mustered the little strength he had, took care to keep his head down, and wavered along the bottom of the ravine.
    To a certain extent, what happened next was predetermined, he knew. The snipers, having seen Arlene support him and realizing how weak he was, would fear him less than they did her. Granted, in Arab culture, women were not held in high regard, but the snipers would still have to give her credit for being braveenough, having knowledge enough, to travel through the desert unprotected, and after all, she was an American, an incalculable factor. When she started shooting at them, they’d definitely give her their respect.
    So, for the sake of efficiency, they’d eliminate the easy target first. One sniper would distract Arlene while the other went after Drew. Once he was taken care of, they could devote all their attention to her. But not kill her. No. He remained convinced that the snipers could have hit them both if that had been their intention. The purpose of the shots was to play with the quarry, to restrict, to corner, to trap without killing. At least not kill just yet.
    He was too weak to fight, but even if all he did was keep moving, he’d still be helping Arlene. Divide