Hatter's Revenge (rewriting - read at own risk)

Ch. 23: Mistaken

Mad's head whipped to the side when there was a peal of thunder that didn't sound quite right. He rose to a crouch, still covered by the thick brush around him and listened intently, eyes trying to cut through the gloom obscuring the tree trunks.

The rain began to lighten, leaving a creeping mist in its wake that created weird shapes and shadows within the early morning darkness. He stayed where he was, trying to decide if his mind had just been playing tricks on him, creating the report of a shot in the crack of thunder.

After another moment, Mad decided it was nothing. After all, Tamsus couldn't see in the dark either. Still, he waited another moment, just to be safe.

When nothing more happened, he settled back against the tree and flexed his fingers, trying to keep them nimble, fighting the cold trying to make him clumsy, still waiting.

He was dozing lightly when something made him stir. Mad looked around, not daring to move until he could find what had triggered his awareness. When he found absolutely nothing, he decided it must have been the steadily growing light.

The morning was cool, almost chilly, and painted in shades of grey and blue. The light was muted by the thickness of the surrounding forest.

Mad shifted and frowned when he realized how stiff the muscles in his legs had become. He stood cautiously, still mostly obscured by thick branches. He shook out his legs, blowing on his hands to warm his cold fingers.

The forest was quiet.

To Mad, it felt like the trees were watching with baited breath, waiting for the game to begin. He wondered if the forest would care who emerged victorious.

Rolling his shoulders, he checked his pistols, wiping any moisture from the mechanisms so his fingers wouldn't slip. When everything remained quiet, Mad decided to scout around a little, searching for any clues as to Tamsus' plan. If he actually had one.

Mad hoped to God that Tamsus wasn't just playing this by ear. Even he wasn't cocky enough to believe that he truly understood what the Heart's Ace would do at any given moment. No matter how much confidence he had projected to Killian, he knew that he was at the mercy of the whims of a madman.

It was the branch that saved him.

Mad didn't duck low enough and it knocked off his hat.

At the same time Mad knelt to retrieve it, a bullet buried itself into the heart of a nearby blackthorn tree.

Staying low, Mad rolled to take cover behind the very oak that had saved him. He drew his right gun, jamming his hat back on and took a deep breath before peering around the side of the tree. Almost immediately, a bullet struck the bark, stinging splinters making him jerk back, covering his eyes.

He blinked rapidly, relieved when his vision didn't blur.

Mad looked over at where the bullet meant for him had hit the tree and it gave him a pretty good idea of where Tamsus was. Judging by the sound, the Ace had elected not to use a rifle. So he was close by. Using a handgun meant he wasn't much further away than twenty-five, maybe thirty yards.

Looking at the terrain in front of him, Mad cataloged potential vantage points and screens, discarding anything that was too small or thin to be of any use to him. He peered around the oak again and managed to catch a flash of red maybe fifteen yards over his right shoulder before another bullet discouraged his efforts.

Mad wanted to try and circle around, flanking Tamsus if he could. To his left, he could see a thick yew tree that would bring him all of five yards closer to that goal.