Free Don't Look Back by Gregg Hurwitz Page B

cargo pocket. Working it free, she thumbed it on.
    It powered up to show Theresa’s self-portrait at the Mexico City airport. The glow of the screen illuminated a faint sphere around Eve’s hands, and she noticed to her side a change in the consistency of the darkness.
    A bulky form.
    It shifted.
    Eve’s breath tangled in her throat.
    A hand became visible, closing over the screen, drawing the camera and the sphere of light to a broad chest. The upthrown light caught a strip of mottled throat and jaw.
    “Hello, sister.”

 
    Chapter 12
    The words came on a puff of sweet breath. Square teeth glinted around a chewed twig.
    Eve swiveled toward the mouth of the passage but he swept around her, impossibly fast, impossibly light-footed. A bulky arm leaned against the wall, eye level, blocking her.
    They stood in the last band of full shadow.
    Beyond the man she could see the group way across the courtyard, now at the temple, pointing and taking pictures and spreading out to explore. His free arm swayed at his side, meaty fist encasing the camera, though he paid it no regard. He hadn’t so much as glanced at the screen, or he would have seen Theresa Hamilton’s face, and something inside Eve told her that that would be very, very bad.
    The man flicked his head to indicate the group over his shoulder. “You are here. On a trip.”
    His English was good, the accent not obvious enough to place.
    She nodded, not yet trusting her voice.
    “And those are your friends?”
    He studied her, waiting. His lips pursed, shifted to one side. He held up the camera by its strap, letting it spin between their faces. Theresa Hamilton, rotating round and round. His steady gaze was not on the little screen but on Eve. A flick of the eyes and he’d see Theresa’s photograph; he’d note the connection. Pinching the strap, he lowered the camera. Eve reached for it, but he tugged it up.
    A game.
    “The big man,” he said. “With the hat. What is his name?”
    She fought to keep her voice from wavering. “Why do you want to know his name?”
    “Sister, do not question me this way. Lower your eyes.”
    She stared at him, too shocked to comply. Keeping the bar of his arm in place, he shifted his feet and leaned in slowly as if to kiss her, bringing his brown-black eyes inches from hers. Even over the musk of the tunnel, she could smell the sweat on him.
    A hiss of breath. “Lower your eyes.”
    She obeyed. Her lips jerked with emotion. “Get out of my way.” Though she tried to put her full force behind the words, they came out sounding strangled. “Let me go.”
    She kept her gaze level with his chin, but still she could see the teeth appear around the twig. His body remained in place, his nose nearly touching hers. Past his locked elbow, she watched the others vanish around the side of the temple, and she choked down an incipient sob.
    “What do you want?” she said.
    “I want to be left alone.”
    “Me, too.”
    “You say that. Americans. But you impose yourselves.” He’d not so much as raised his voice.
    She had no idea what was going to come next, but the drumbeat of terror in her gut warned that it would not be good.
    “Eve!”
    Across the courtyard by the temple, Lulu had stepped into sight, facing away at the jungle, cupping her hands around her mouth.
    The man’s head snapped around, and his body slackened, only for an instant. Eve snatched the camera from his grasp and ducked past his still-braced arm, her shoulder skimming the stone. Breathing hard, she shot free of the catacomb and ran across the plain of the ball court, ruins looming overhead. She heard no footsteps behind her.
    But she didn’t look back.

 
    Chapter 13
    “Yes, the same guy. With the burned face. The one I asked you about.” Standing at the rubbled base of the temple, Eve did her best not to yell. She kept a nervous eye on the sunken courtyard and the catacomb across it.
    Lulu and Neto regarded her with concern. The others were still off