He shrugs. "I can tell. And I'm never going to push. That's his business. But I know his secret isn't our secret--that we've killed people. If you and I have that in our background, though, anyone could. Even Kenny. He was the most likely suspect for Brady's accomplice. So stop beating yourself up. I'll do whatever I can for him. Hopefully he'll be fine."
We walk a few more steps, and then he says, "There's more, isn't there? Something else happened out there."
"The sniper shot someone Eric knew, a hostile we . . ." I swallow. "A hostile we might have helped. It was a misunderstanding. She ran into the forest. And there were others. Hostiles. Eric had to shoot them, and he tried to just wound them and . . . things got worse."
"Shit." He looks over. "And you?"
I shrug.
"Casey . . ."
"I shot one. Had to. Me or him. You know how--" I stop myself. There's a lightness in my voice. Forced casual, sardonic. You know how it is. You were a soldier. Which is not anything he needs to be reminded of.
"I do know," he says, brushing his shoulder against mine.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean--"
He cuts me off with a quick embrace as we walk. "I do know. And it sucks every last goddamn time."
"I'm worried about Eric."
"I know you are."
"I'm also worried I may have . . ." I inhale. "He may have seen a side of me I'd rather he didn't."
"You mean the side that just told Wallace he's a piece of shit who deserves to be carved up and fed to the ravens?"
"Uh . . . possibly."
Anders laughs. "If you think Eric would be the least bit surprised by that, you are underestimating the man. You might try to hide that part, but you do a lousy job of it. Sorry. Wallace is alive, and you're doing everything you can to keep him that way until he can face his crimes. That's enough."
I look at him. "Is it too much? If only I'd killed Brady back in Rockton--"
"Yeah, don't even go there. You aren't that person. If we'd killed him then, yes, people would still be alive, but we had no way of knowing that, and we were right to suspect the council's story, considering Brady turned out to be innocent."
"Did he?"
Anders frowns at me. "You still have questions?"
Yes. Yes, I do.
We're halfway to the spot where I left Kenny with Dalton and Jacob when we hear the pound of feet on a nearby path.
"Brady," I say. "That's . . ."
When I trail off, Anders reaches into his pack and hands me his whistle. "Go on."
"No, I should--"
"You've done what you can for Kenny. I'm reasonably sure even I can't do any more until we get him back to Rockton. That's my real role here--the muscle to help make that happen. If I need a nurse, Eric does a fine job. You go get Brady."
"It might not be him."
"It is. Go."
I take off. As I jog along the path, I think.
So many questions.