Chapter 16
Old bottling plant west of the city
Gone was the adrenaline-charged clarity that had sharpened Sabrina’s mind when she lunged for Hummer’s throat. Now, only clawing thirst, relentless fatigue, and the stink of death remained.
The big man’s body lay at her feet, spread out like a slab of discarded meat at a butcher shop. His blood was already turning dark and gelatinous as it congealed atop the cracked concrete. And flies drifted in lazy spirals above him, drawn by the sharp tang of rot.
He hadn’t been dead that long. Only a few hours. So why was he already starting to stink?
But she knew why. The heat inside the old building pressed down like a second skin.
The ancient bricks held onto humidity the way old bones held onto pain.
And the thin veil between what animated a human body and what made it nothing more than a pile of flesh and bone for the maggots and the carrion beetles didn’t stand a chance against those elements.
She turned her head away and tried to breathe through her mouth. But that was worse. The air tasted like rust and mildew mixed with the fetid, coppery echo of a life extinguished.
She’d taken a life.
And it didn’t matter that he’d have happily killed her. It didn’t matter that any right-minded person would say, in a situation like this, it was self-defense. What mattered was that she’d aimed, shoved the shard deep, and then twisted slightly to ensure she did as much damage as possible.
What mattered was that she’d live the rest of her life with the memories of how hot his blood had been when it spilled over her hand.
How he’d staggered and bellowed and fallen to his knees.
How his throat had gurgled, how his lungs had rattled, how his boots had scrabbled against the concrete as his body fought to hold on to the last vestiges of life.
She squeezed her eyes shut to block out the sight of the dead man. But behind her lids, the image only sharpened. Dark, bloody pool. Pale, mottled skin. Flies.
She’d have to ask Hew how he did it. How he went on living after knowing he’d been the end of someone else and—
What am I thinking?
I won’t need to ask Hew how he goes on living because I won’t go on liv—
“Take your rifle and get to our prearranged spot,” Black Widow’s voice, oddly crisp and cold compared to the stifling air, cut into Sabrina’s thoughts.
Her eyes flew open, and she found the platinum blonde at the far end of the room. Night had fallen some time ago. Now, the only lights inside the space came from the two kerosene lanterns Diesel had lit.
One burned on the table of weapons. The other burned by the entrance to the old office space. They both caused long, trembling shadows to writhe across the cracked floor, crumbling walls, and Hummer’s body until it looked like the man’s restless spirit had stuck around to haunt the place.
“And Vance?” Black Widow barely turned her head toward the man standing at the table full of weapons, arming himself to the teeth. “You sure we sealed everything off? These guys were trained by the best of the best Uncle Sam has to offer. If they can find a back door, they’ll use it.”
“After you make the call, they won’t have time to do much more than a preliminary examination of the site,” Vance replied, tightening straps on his tactical vest. “That’s why we planned it this way.
But even if they had all day to do recon, there’s only one way in thanks to those old derelict shipping containers we stacked out front. ”
He jabbed a thumb toward the metal cargo door that groaned on its rusting tracks anytime the wind blew. It was frozen open halfway, like it’d been caught mid-scream.
“Once they drop the cash with you,” Vance continued, “they’ll head out the way they came in. And that’s when we’ll light ’em up. Like shooting fish in a barrel.”
“It’s never that easy,” Black Widow muttered.
“Kurt’ll take care of any Diesel and I miss. What our boy lacks in height, he makes up for in marksmanship.”
Sabrina’s stomach churned. Her thirst, her exhaustion, the dried blood caking her fingers…all forgotten as she listened to the plan.
One by one, they were going to pick off her friends. Her family. The people who were willing to risk everything to bring her home.
The Black Knights would be forced into a gauntlet of bullets and betrayal, and she couldn’t stand the thought of it. Couldn’t stand the thought of being the reason—
“What if they don’t have the money?” Kurt asked as he shouldered a wildly evil-looking weapon with a scope that belonged on a National Geographic photographer’s camera.
“Then I tell them to bring what they can and come anyway,” Black Widow explained. Her pale skin looked luminous in the faint, flickering light of the nearest lantern.
Sabrina studied the woman across the expanse, thinking she was elegant in the way vipers were elegant. Then, she turned away when a fly landed on Hummer’s face, crawled across his cracked lips, and disappeared inside his open mouth.
Why hadn’t they thrown a tarp over the body? How could they stand to look at it? How could they stand to smell it?
Didn’t they care?
“Bishop’s paying us plenty,” Black Widow went on, and Sabrina glanced back over to find the woman eyeing her phone’s screen. “Especially now that it’s split four ways. So whatever the Black Knights bring to us is just icing on the cake.”
The blonde looked directly at Sabrina then. And just like that, Sabrina no longer felt the heat in the air.
She was chilled to the bone. Goosebumps rose along her arms, the little hairs lifting like they were trying to pull out of her skin and retreat from the assassin’s cold, emotionless gaze.
“Remember, she’s mine,” Black Widow hissed.
“How are you planning to keep her from warning the others?” Vance asked.
“Don’t you worry.” Black Widow’s eyes were still locked on Sabrina as she pulled a syringe from her hip pocket. The capped needle still looked wicked. And when Black Widow winked, Sabrina couldn’t help but shiver. “I’ve got a plan for that. I’ll dose her again right before they get here.”
After that portentous announcement, she waved a hand. “Now, go take up your positions. I have a call to make in ten minutes, and I don’t want any distractions.”
Weapons rattled as they were shouldered or stowed. Boots echoed around the crumbling walls. Then, one by one, the men disappeared through that yawning metal door and slunk into the night.
Sabrina was reminded of mountain lions vanishing into a tree line.
And now she was alone with Black Widow.
Somehow, that felt even more dangerous than anything she’d suffered yet.
The blonde sashayed across the floor with that feline precision Sabrina had first seen when she’d raced down the muddy embankment after Sabrina plowed into the tree. When Black Widow made it to Hummer’s body, Sabrina expected her to pause.
She didn’t.
She stepped over his corpse like he was a fallen branch in her path. Like he was nothing.
Then, she bent, and Sabrina flinched—she couldn’t help it—when the woman’s fingers clamped around her jaw like a vice.
“I’m not going to knock you out,” Widow whispered, her voice like acid. “I’ll give you just enough to make walking and talking tough for you. But I won’t knock you out like before. I wouldn’t want you to miss the show.”