Read Don't Look Back for Free Online

as he seemed to pry something loose. Then he shifted, a machete swinging at his side. The piece of plywood propped against the tree behind him came into sudden focus and, on it, the spray-painted silhouette of a human. Splintered impact marks from the thrown machete hacked the face and chest.
    Target practice.
    Sweat filmed Eve’s body—her arms, her neck, beneath the baseball cap—the humidity, condensing as if in a single burst, leaving her skin tingling. And yet her breath had gone cold.
    The man pivoted and started back to his mark. Even from this distance through the trees, she made out a stab of color high on the left side of his neck, a burned snarl of hair and angry pink flesh.
    Then he paused.
    Somehow Eve sensed that his head was going to lift even before it did. Just before his dark eyes reached her, some instinct made her drop behind the fallen log. Her jagged breaths fluttered a green sprig by her face.
    No sound from the canyon below.
    She flattened to the earth, coming eye to eye with a praying mantis the size of her thumb, clinging to the sodden deadwood and twitching its raptorial legs. Beneath the log a thin silver edge winked at her. Metal? Her hand quaked as she reached into a nest of leaves to unearth it.
    Not a piece of trash but a slender digital camera. Someone had dropped it here, probably another rafter—a woman like her who’d hiked up to the royally displayed toilet. Eve swiped her thumb across the dirt-caked backing, and sure enough a neat sticker from a label maker was revealed: THERESA HAMILTON .
    Eve still heard nothing from the canyon. She tried to slow her breathing, to calm her pulse. Nothing but silence below.
    And then the crunch of a footstep.
    Eve tensed. The mantid watched her. She realized she was holding her breath, clutching the camera to her chest. Listening.
    Another footstep.
    Then another.
    Though the canyon played games with the sound, it seemed the man was coming toward her. The time between steps shortened. Was he climbing the rise? Speeding up?
    Gasping, she shoved the camera into a pocket and slid away from the log, backing up on all fours to remain unseen. A safe distance from the edge, she rose, scaring up flurries of butterflies, and ran across the wildflower clearing that moments ago had been charming. A panicky sprint down the muddy trail and she stumbled back out into the unforgiving sunlight of the shoal.
    As she hurried across the sand toward the group clustered around the fire pit, she shot a nervous glance at the trail. No one behind her. Already feeling sheepish, she neared the others.
    Gay Jay was standing back, shading his eyes to gaze up the incline. “Before I go home, I’m gonna take the mountain.”
    “It’s even denser than it looks,” Lulu said. “You wouldn’t make it all the way up there.”
    “I’ve hiked Whitney and Shasta.”
    “This is jungle, ” Lulu said.
    Neto saw Eve coming and moved to greet her with a full plate. “Wait till you taste this. ” His brow furrowed as she drew close. “What’s wrong?”
    Eve glanced again over her shoulder. Her Inner Voice piped up, What is wrong, Eve? You saw a guy practicing knife throws?
    “What?” Neto said.
    Don’t tell him. He’ll think you’re being hysterical.
    She kept her voice low. “I saw someone back there. A man with a burn—here. He was throwing a machete at … at a drawn human target.”
    Neto gave a faint chuckle and foisted the plate on her, though she’d lost her appetite. “People do all sorts of things in privacy. Now, hurry and eat. We need to clean up.”
    With a hint of self-loathing, she asked herself how Rick would handle this. He would be direct, stubborn, persuasive. She cleared her throat. Toed the sand. “It freaked me out a little.”
    Starting back for the fire, Neto looked at her across his shoulder. “It is safe here.”
    She stood apart for a moment before helping tidy up, shooting occasional glances at the trail. When they finally pushed off in the