Chapter 39
Kate
Jordan all but pulled the cave wall apart.
The rubble cascades across what was once these people’s home.
Dust dances in the air as I step cautiously over what used to be the walls.
This is most likely a useless mission, but I don’t care; we’re without supplies and I want that disgusting collar off Jordan’s neck.
I step on something squishy and recoil.
A hand is under my foot.
I force myself to keep moving, to keep looking. I manage to find a winter coat, but no signs of anything else useful. The supplies and the radio are gone.
My shoulders slump as I pause, warring with myself on turning the debris over or just turn around when I hear a cough. I look around to find the source, my feet guiding me as I hear it again.
Until I stumble upon someone alive.
Jeremiah lays on his stomach, one of his arms crushed under a boulder. He glares at me, his face covered in dirt and blood.
Carefully maneuvering over, I stop in front of him. “Where’s the key?” I ask coldly.
His answer is a wheezing laugh.
I ran out of patience a long time ago. “Where is it?” I grit out.
Jeremiah weakly lifts his head. “God will forgive—”
Before he can spew more bullshit, I send my bare foot into his face. His head rears back and he lets out a pained groan. “Tell me where the fuck it is,” I demand.
“Get me out and I’ll tell you,” he rasps.
I snort. “No way.” Fighting the urge to kick his teeth in, I think it over. He locked Jordan up, meaning he not only knows where the key is, but he probably has it on his person. Kneeling on the ground, I start rummaging through his pockets.
“Hey, what—stop—” I don’t listen to him as my fingers close around what feels like a key in his back pocket. Relief floods me as I pull it out.
Then I get another idea.
Ignoring his angry words, I strip him out of his pants and shoes.
“These will work nicely for me,” I comment.
Then I rip his shirt off his back, relishing in the pained screams he does when I disturb his trapped arm.
“I hope you enjoy your last few moments, stuck under the rubble with nothing but the reminder of what a failure you are.” I don’t bother watching his reaction; I bundle up what I found and head back the way I came.
Jordan may believe in dignity for the dead, but I believe some will never deserve it.