II.

"So," May said, huddled in his coat, "you wouldn't happen to have anything to eat in your pockets, would you?'

Liosse checked. Found a roll he didn't remember stashing there and said, "I'll flip you for it."

"If I spot those bags, I'm going for them," May said, sounding disgusted, and Liosse shoved the roll back in his pocket. Thought they really wouldn't have a choice but to try to find the bags back, risk of shooting, or not. This trek to meet the others had been a chancy thing already, without a gunman to worry about, with the weather closing and only the scant supplies they'd managed to salvage, managed to take with them as they fled into the woods like rats from a ship.

Without horses, it was no longer a good, or even a terribly reasonable plan anymore, but they had no other option but to follow it.

"Maybe the weather will send him back to town," Liosse suggested, and May glanced at the sky and scowled.

"Getting cold already," he said, "If it gets bad enough to send him back to town, it's likely to kill us before we make the road." He scanned the trees in silence for awhile, hat pulled low over his ears, and considered the darkening shadows, "We can't stay here, Lee."

They couldn't. They'd found shelter in a dip made by boulders and snow-melt driven earth, in the crook of what was a fast-moving stream in the spring, but was now, at the tail end of autumn, a weak trickle, clogged by dead, damp leaves, brown and gray and dull orange, and there wasn't enough damn leaves still on the trees to hide a gunman.

Enough brambles and dried bushes, though. Enough shadows and fallen tree trunks, and god knew how far off the bastard was. What kind of rifle he might have. They hadn't either of them paused to dig up the missed bullets, or pry them from the trees' bark. They might be searching for him in all the wrong places, when as far as they knew the man was slowly circling around at a safe, invisible distance, to get around their small fortification. They might wither of them find a bullet between their shoulders, at any moment.

May was right. They couldn't just stay and wait to be shot, or to be frozen by the weather.

But if the man was shooting from a distance, the gathering dark would either make force him closer, or at least impair his ability to aim somewhat. With the thick cloud cover, there was no moonlight to search by.

No moonlight to flee by, either, or to return fire by, but they could hide in it. At least there was that.

"Do you think they miss us yet?" May asked, his voice wry and with that grimly amused tone that was May in adverse circumstances.

"Maybe. Doubt they'll come looking. Doubt they'd know where to start looking," Liosse shifted his weight, testing his feet and whether or not he could move quietly enough, or fast enough, "They might even think we're dead." It wasn't an unreasonable assumption to make, especially if they had any word of the firefight, and the resulting destruction.

May snorted softly. Said, "I always said Morgan was useless."

"He stands around looking busy with the best of them," Liosse said, and got up into a proper crouch, "Come on. If he'd circling around, we're could have a nasty surprise any second. "You can shoot him when we get back, if you want."

"I'll hold you to that," May said, and adjusted his grip on his gun, "We should head that way," he said, nodding to indicate the direction, "keep the rocks between us and him."

"If he's still up there."

"He has the high ground up there. I wouldn't give it up if I were him unless I thought we were going to stupid enough to leave the only good cover in sight."

"This is a really bad idea," Liosse agreed, "Keep low."

It dark enough now that the trees and brambles higher up the hill had coalesced into a tangle of shadows, impossible to pick apart except that Liosse had spent what felt like the last few hours staring at that hillside and thought he knew it with his eyes closed by now.

May checked for any sign of the gunman again, then cautiously left cover, gun ready, Liosse following some distance behind, trying to blend into the rough landscape along the creek. Trying not to rustle the blanket of thick leaves or slip on the patches of ice. Tried to avoid leaving tracks where snow had gathered. Twigs crunched under his boots despite the caution, and every time one snapped, he half expected to take a bullet in the head. Listened for the crack of gun or rifle that would be followed a second later by ripping, hot pain, or maybe just by darkness.

He ducked behind a tangle of thorny brambles, and scanned for May, up ahead and behind the snow-covered remains of a tree that had fallen several seasons ago, by the look of it. He had his gun out, aimed towards the hill. Covering Liosse even though there was nothing to shoot at.

Maybe the gunman could see them after all, and had only lain off the trigger knowing that if he fired, one of them would spot him, even if the shot was true and took the other down. He was going to try to get closer. Get a better shot, with less risk.

God, if the bastard knew them, he'd know May was a mean shot and a danger even in this treacherous light that tricked the eyes. He'd know that his best bet to kill them both would be to take May down, and May was, with Liosse's feet numb and hurting by turns, the faster and more difficult target.

The gunman was going to be coming down after them, if he'd noted their attempt at flight. Try to get close enough to have a sure shot at May. It was exactly what Liosse would do, if he were the one on that hillside, and hunting them. It was exactly what he'd do, if he knew them, and knew their strengths and weaknesses.

Damn.

He couldn't think who it was. He had no real shortage of enemies, though he'd always assumed most of them would rather make an attempt on his life if they met by chance. Couldn't think of anyone who'd actually want to hunt him, and certainly not someone from the small pool of people who knew both him and May well enough to evaluate them by risk.

He almost has half a mind to call a challenge out at whoever it was lurking out in the darkness, and might have were it not for the chance that the man really had missed their clumsy retreat, and strategizing after all.

A slim chance. Too slim for common sense, but it was better to keep any advantage they might have. He checked the hill again, for long moments, then slithered as much on his belly as he could, using the land and the dark as cover even as snow worked its way under shirt, cold against his belly, and stinging where it packed in along the waistband of his jeans.

"Goddamn," he hissed, daring to sit up a little now, sheltered behind the log with May, brushing the snow off gloves hands.

"No shot," May said, ignoring him and searching the hill, hat off his head now and hanging against his back, its cord against May's throat.

"He's going to try to get closer." Liosse used the hat to pull May lower behind the log, "And keep your damn head down. A man might think you were trying to lose it."

"He can't see to shoot in this light," May said, but slid lower anyway.

"But he knows you can," Liosse said, watching the hill for movement, eyes straining, "He doesn't want to get this game turned around."

"Hell, you should go out there then, if he's aiming at me. See if he'll parlay." May sounded terribly amused for a man who was the primary target of an invisible gunman. "Me, I think I'll head on out to the road, myself."

There wasn't enough damn cover to make for a road that was maybe another two days out. Not enough cover along the road should they have to hunt up and down the length of it for the train.

"He knows where we're heading," Liosse said, thinking hard about what he knew of the area. Where they might go to have a change of shelter or help, "Maybe he's even setting ambush right this moment."

"You know so much about our friend, you want to point out where he is?"

"Our friend," Liosse repeated, and smiled without humor and May glanced at him, tearing his attention from the invisible threat out in the trees to look questioning and vaguely concerned. "You make any enemies recently, May?"

"Everyone loves me," May said dryly, "You?"

"About the same. But whoever that is shooting knows us good enough to want you dead first."

"Hell, that doesn't mean anything. Everyone knows you're a lousy shot," May said, but he was watching the hill with a darker expression now. Angry, and suspicious and grim as he, like Liosse had, weight the likelihood of betrayal from those they were close to.

"I hope you come to a conclusion, because I sure can't think who it might be," Liosse said, and knew in his gut that it meant that whoever was out there was someone he trusted.

"If it was Noah, we'd be dead by now," May said, and Liosse shook his head.

"Fuck's sake, it's not Noah."

"No," May agreed readily, "just going down the list. Could be Garcy, 'cept he'd just shoot us right in town, where it's comfortable and he wouldn't have to walk so far."

"In the cold," Liosse added, and grinned despite the situation, "And he wouldn't shoot at me, I got him his job."

"He's not coming. Let's go." May pulled at his arm, and, in a crouch, headed deeper into the woods, away from the road. Reasonable, if they thought the gunman was laying in wait between them and their destination, but possible suicide with no gear and only the one roll of bread for provisions.

They were going to die by gunfire or by cold in woods. Cold and tired and injured already, and bordering on desperation before that bastard out there had decided to add to the mess.

"I think there's an old road somewhere. Easier going if we find it," May said, "overgrown enough for cover. Might still be people living along it." There was a 'but probably not' heavy in his tone, but Liosse just nodded and followed, keeping to shadows and shrubs and hollows in the earth.