Chapter 41

A shadow moved in the darkness beside him—Emmett noticed it only because for a brief second, the faint line of light beneath the door disappeared. “No,” he said again, his voice stronger this time. He pushed both arms against Monty’s chest, trying to hold him back. “I don’t want this. I don’t want—”

In the darkness, Jack’s voice growled like a grizzly’s. “You heard him. He doesn’t want you. So get your fucking hands off. Now.”

The shadow descended. Emmett saw a flash of steel, then Monty disappeared, pulled away from him. Emmett took the opportunity to scramble out from under the man, his whole body on fire. Blindly he felt around for the oil lantern Jack kept by the head of his bedroll. A box of matches lay nearby, just where Emmett knew they’d be. He lit one, then set it to the lantern’s wick. The flame danced with an orange blaze that seared his eyes.

“Turn that damn thing down,” Jack muttered.