Green Desert - Chapter 8.1.3 - Fírí

“Shoot her!” I cried.

But Sévo lowered his weapon. Sétıpímo staggered to his feet, gaped at his blood-covered hands, his eyes huge.

I shoved past the criminal and rand down the steps. Vata stood with hands lowered, palms showing. The cop coughed as I hurried past him and bent down to snatch up the knife. The carved wood handle was slick with blood. I held it carefully as I backed up, my eyes on the old woman.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked.

“Sorry for what? Killing the cop or raping me?”

“He’s not dead.”

I spun to look at the detective. No, he wasn’t dead. His throat bled, but was mostly intact. To Sévo, he whispered, “Thank you.”

The dark-haired guy tucked his gun away under his flannel shirt. “Let’s get you some bandages. Zhíno, call an ambulance.”

I waved the knife at Vata. “They don’t have any bandages. There are some clean rags in the kitchen. The phone, too.”

Raíngozé disappeared down the hall. Sévo stepped down into the chapel and went to the old detective. “Are you okay?”

So maybe the flannel guys weren’t criminals after all. But why had they acted so strange when the cop questioned them? And who were their missing friends?

Sévo led Sétıpímo up into the hall, leaving me alone with Vata. I turned to the old hag with an evil glare.