He quietly shifted his arm and held the light in readiness. He listened. Someone was crawling through the brush. He had to wait. It was hard on his nerves, being bait.
He flashed the light on suddenly.
The man was half hidden behind a bush and Alsint couldn't see his face, but the gun in his hand glittered through the leaves.
"Surprise," said Alsint. "Don't try anything."
The man stood there, but he didn't drop his gun.
Alsint didn't like it. He couldn't identify the man. If he ran back into the forest, Alsint wouldn't know any more than he had in the beginning. He fingered the gun. "Come out where I can see you," he said.
The man didn't move—waiting until his eyes adjusted to the light shining on him, decided Alsint. As a choice, his own life came first. He raised the gun.
Before he could fire, a red bird attacked his eyes, squawking wildly.
He didn't drop the light. He tried to bat the bird away from his face, but it clung to his hair. Before he could crush it, he heard the whoosh of a gas gun. And the sound came from behind him. That was his mistake. There was more than one of them.
He breathed once and then felt himself fall forward.