A pang of appreciation suddenly swelled through Sal, and he was caught for a moment, wondering idly if he should compliment or insult her for suddenly being okay in his book.
He did neither.
Rather, he gathered the corpses they'd just 'killed' and dragged them by their collars up to the shore. He laid them one beside another as though they'd been gunned down by a firing squad. It brought about fond memories. Turning back, he glided into the blood, watching as Emerald made her way through the murky liquid. None others had emerged yet and he pondered if they were capable of the intelligence to know that moving would get them killed.
But he was wrong. Sal bit his lip, before yanking his gun back out. "Two behind you, sweetheart."