Flint’s Strike (L.A.S.T. Defense #3)

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I remember the thirst. The way the sweat ran down my back. How hot it was in that basement. I remember seeing the Order to Vacate posted on the front door.

The beating the senator’s man gave me on that bridge broke my collarbone. So I didn’t fight—I couldn’t—when he dragged me down the stairs and zip-tied my good wrist to a radiator pipe on the floor. The senator told me if I didn’t cause any trouble, he’d make sure I was taken care of.

I didn’t know what that meant for me. But I knew what it would mean for Eliot. And for Parker Elmore. So I started working the thick, plastic zip tie against the pipe as hard as I could.