Wenzi screamed, close by. With Mulveen? Gilbert crashed through the mangroves in that direction. Mulveen would hear him—but wouldn't see him. The mangroves were a thick tangle of twisted trunks and roots. Mulveen would have no chance for a clear shot until almost the last moment.
Suddenly, Gilbert stopped dead in his tracks. Wenzi—was she part of it? She could have fled to him, pretending. She could have been in league with Arnaud and Mulveen. There was no reason to believe otherwise. The trackers and beaters knew no loyalties. They were hardly more than animals. But somehow, Wenzi seemed different. As Gilbert thought himself different.
The thoughts raced through his mind. There were the continents of Earth, but the continents were game-reserves. The men were hardly more than game themselves. But there were the offshore islands, which had not been stocked with animals. It was rumored that another brand of men lived there, men who had fled from the continents, men determined to preserve their heritage and one day when they were strong enough return with it to the mainlands....
With his five thousand credits, Gilbert could buy a boat, sail to the islands....
Wenzi screamed again.
Mulveen's rifle roared. He was closer now. Wood splintered from the mangrove roots, peppering Gilbert. Heedless, he plunged on, impelled by the shouts of the beaters behind him. Grimly he thought: I'm giving Mulveen his money's worth. But that wasn't quite true. Mulveen would not really get his money's worth until Gilbert was dead.
The rifle roared again and Gilbert thought he saw the muzzle-flash up ahead in the dark swamp. He ran splashing through the water and felt the spray as the rifle spoke once more. The minute atomic explosion went off in the water not ten yards from Gilbert. The concussion staggered him and he fell forward on his face, his head striking a mangrove root jarringly.
His senses swam. He heard a splashing, floundering sound. Mulveen. Mulveen was coming for him. He ducked behind a mangrove, waiting. Miraculously he still held the machete. He felt blood on his shoulder and chest, realized that he had probably fallen sideways across the blade.
Wenzi and Mulveen came through the swamp. Wenzi was in front. They were so close that Gilbert could see how the girl's hands were secured behind her back, how Mulveen held a trailing rope, how the trailing rope was wrapped around Mulveen's thick waist so he could drop it when he had to and lift his rifle in both hands....