Chapter 11
Jade’s gone stone-still. Waiting, her expression filling with dread.
"The dark web link from your father’s files led to an auction site," I say, shifting my hand against the wheel as I think about how close she’s been living to monsters. The sickest kind of humans.
"The site’s been scrubbed, but Mako pulled cached pages. They were selling access to live events. People paying a fuckton to hunt humans. But we suspect it’s also got a gambling component."
"Oh my god." Her voice is barely loud enough to hear over the rumble of tires on pavement. "Oh my god, Ryker."
"The people on that list you found weren’t just taken. They were sold into these events from what we can gather. Your father’s office, and his buddies offices were part of the supply chain. They closed the cases so nobody came looking."
She covers her mouth with both hands, rocking in the seat. "This is horrible. I can’t… I can’t even begin to imagine how scary that is."
My resolve hardens more. This is personal now, not just a mission.
"But you said the site is down. Does that mean it’s over?" Jade asks.
"We’re not sure. Mako found a schedule too. The next event is within the week."
Jade turns toward me. The look on her face is something I’ll carry for the rest of my life.
Her understanding.
The worst kind of awakening. A dawning that rewrites your entire history in a single breath.
"Jade, there’s more. We believe Trevor is—"
Headlights flash across the windshield, blinding me for a second, slicing through the cab, coming from the left.
By the time my brain puts the pieces together, there’s barely time to yell, "DOWN!"
I’ve been in explosions. This impact is horrific.
Lights arc wildly. Glass shatters. Airbags surround us. The centrifugal force is the only way to tell our SUV is in a spin.
Gravel flies. The tree line comes into view, but a drainage ditch grabs the wheels.
It’s a hard stop. The SUV is tilted. The driver’s door pinned against the ground.
"Jade." I blindly reach for her and my hand finds her arm. "Talk to me."
"I’m here." Coughing from the airbag dust, she croaks, "I’m not hurt."
Blood runs into my eyes. The gash is on my forehead, fucking up my vision on both sides. I wipe it to find the windshield spider-webbed, but holding.
Assess. Move.
Engine’s dead. Headlights are still on, cutting sideways into the trees.
I reach for my Sig. Still on my hip.
"Can you move?"
"Yes." She’s already unbuckling.
"Stay in the truck. Do NOT get out until—"
The next sound stops me dead. Doors closing. Voices reach us over the hiss from our engine. Two men. Maybe three.
It’s too soon for first responders. They can’t be here this fast.
These are not the voices of someone involved in an accident. Too calm. Detached. Tactical. I know the sound well.
This was an ambush. My heart rate rockets up.
I raise the Sig toward the driver side window but the world tilts. Oh fuck. I have a concussion or vertigo.
My aim drifts left.
Steady. Fucking STEADY.
A flashlight beam sweeps through the cracked glass, biting my retinas.
"He’s armed," someone calls out.
There’s a thump, a hiss against the truck. Smoke pours in through the cracked seals around the doors.
"Don’t breathe!" I shout, but some kind of gas is already in my lungs. A chemical burn at the back of my throat.
This isn’t a smoke screen. It’s a chemical attack. Nerve gas or some other kind of tranquilizer. The effects are already starting.
I squeeze off a round through the window. Glass blows out. Someone curses.
"R-r-ryker," Jade wheezes.
I want to tell her not to talk, but I’m losing ground fast. My hand is going numb. The weapon weighs a thousand pounds. I shoot another round blindly into the smoke, a sloppy, desperate move.
Jade’s coughing gets worse behind me.
Focus.
You can do this. You can get her out.
Fuck. Fuck. I reach for my seat belt buckle, miss it. Try again. Fingers are too weak. Legs are shaking too. Jolting against the useless gas and brake pedals.
I’m shutting down, inch by inch.
Must get her out.
"Run," I mumble, coughing. "Ru-nnnn."
The weapon slips from my hand, falling into the floorboard. Thumping against the carpet.