Chapter 12 #2
We stop once for gas and a bathroom break. Talon threatens to leave Mark in a dumpster as a joke. I’m only eighty percent sure it’s a joke.
By the time the landscape starts changing, my back feels welded to the seat.
Houses crowd closer together. The trees thin out. Billboards start popping up, advertising all kinds of stuff: lawyers, fast food, a church sign threatening the end of the world. You name it.
“Is this really where the crows take us?” Talon asks from the backseat.
“Seems like it,” Cassian murmurs. “We’re drifting into a city.”
The green sign over the road reads:
WELCOME TO ASHFORD HOLLOW – POP. 187,402
The numbers are scratched out, and someone’s scrawled a crude dick next to them.
Feels about right.
The crows drop lower, weaving through a forest of lampposts and wires, so low it’s harder to track them. A few moments later, I lose sight of them.
“Anybody else think those fuckers are here?” Cassian asks. “There’s just something in the air…”
And he’s right. Maybe not in the literal sense, the way he means it—but I do feel like the crows have served their purpose.
The problem?
The killers aren’t standing in the middle of the road or anything.
“Alex should appear soon,” I say. “Without her, or the crows, we’re as good as lost.”
“Well, we could search for a white van nearby…” Talon muses.
But there doesn’t seem to be one.
We drive like this for the next ten minutes, and nothing.
By then, I start thinking that unless I try something, nothing will change.
“Pain!” I scream into the air. I think Mark jumps in his seat. “Pain, can you hear me?”
If I can contact Pain and convince him to help us, we won’t be reliant on Alex or the crows. We can just find the killers the classic way. I bet it would take us half the time, too.
Silence.
Thick, stubborn silence.
I try again, louder.
“Pain!”
Nothing.
Cassian stiffens. His hands tighten on the wheel.
“Skye…” he says.
“Pain!” I shout again.
Still nothing.
Either he can’t hear me… or he won’t.
And I don’t know which possibility is worse.
Talon clicks his tongue. “Well. That’s a bust.”
“Skye.” Cassian repeats. “We’re going into a populated area, in the middle of the day. Those are the worst possible conditions for an ambush.”
Nathaniel nods once.
“What do we do?” Talon asks, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.
“We bet Alex shows soon,” Cassian replies. “And we set some rules.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“If we make contact with the killers, you follow my orders immediately. They have hostages, so let’s not get creative, okay?”
“Okay,” I say.
“Next,” Cassian says. “Skye stays between Nathaniel and me at all times. If anything goes to hell, Talon flanks. There is no scenario where Skye engages alone. Ever.”
My stomach drops.
“Okay.”
“Skye, you’ve got your weapons,” he continues. “If it comes to it, you use them. No hesitation, okay, baby?”
I’ve got the gun tucked against my ribs, the switchblade in my jacket pocket, and the collapsible baton strapped to my thigh. The thought of using any of it for real is honestly a little sickening.
“Yeah,” I say anyway. “Okay.”
Cassian glances at me, just long enough for his eyes to flick down and check that I actually have everything on me. For his own sanity, I suppose.
“If you get cornered, shoot first. Ask questions later,” he says. “There might be people there. They might scream and look at you like you’re the bad one. Fuck them. They know nothing about you.”
“Talon, pass me my backpack,” Nathaniel says.
Talon reaches under his seat and pulls out the larger medical pack. He hands it over. Nathaniel settles it on his lap and starts checking the compartments.
Before anyone can say another word, something happens.
A beat—
—and then Alex pops into existence above the center console. Her buzz cut flickers for a second before stabilizing. She exhales like she just climbed five flights of stairs.
“Oh, thank fuck,” I breathe.
She looks at me. “That’s a weird reaction.”
I don’t have the mental capacity to unpack my reactions right now.
“Where the hell have you been?” I snap. “Your crows stopped leading us like ten streets ago.”
“I know,” she says, completely unbothered. “I was scouting.”
“Scouting?” I echo.
“They’re close,” she replies, flat and final.
Every muscle in my body locks.
“Where?” Cassian demands.
“Two blocks ahead. Supermarket parking lot.” Her voice is clipped, clinical. “The man is in the driver’s seat. The woman is at the ATM. The girls in the back are alive but sedated. One of them is starting to wake up.”
My stomach lurches.
“You need to move,” she says. “Now.”
Cassian’s jaw tightens. “We’re going.”
Nathaniel nods once. “We can’t wait. But we need a plan.”
Alex points at Cassian with one blunt finger. “I propose a quick insertion. Hit the van while the man is alone, sedate him, wait for the woman to return, sedate her too. Then drive the van out of sight and secure the girls.”
Cassian’s eyes narrow. “Bold. In daylight.”
“You don’t have the luxury of night,” Alex deadpans. “Do it fast, and it’s done.”
Nathaniel glances at Cassian. “I can prep the syringes. Fast-acting.”
Cassian nods. “How fast?”
“Five seconds to drop. Ten if they’re running high on adrenaline.”
Talon whistles. “Love it when doctor mode comes online.”
Alex’s expression doesn’t change, but her tone sharpens. “Well… if you have something lethal, maybe use that instead.”
Cassian’s head snaps toward her. “No.”
Alex shoots him a look, but before she can ask why, Nathaniel speaks from the backseat.
“Don’t have anything,” he says.
And I know it’s a lie. Cassian knows it’s a lie. We all do, maybe except Alex, since she knows almost nothing about us. For a split second, I find myself wondering: why not? This could be over soon.
Cassian told me not to worry about bystanders. If it comes to that, I should just shoot. That’s it.
But a tiny voice in my head offers the real reason. Being seen committing a crime is only worth it if it’s the only way to save your life. But if there’s a way to survive without being seen, without closing off the possibility of a future for us…
My guys don’t want to dig the hole any deeper than it already is. Unlike with the Candy Maker, they actually care about tomorrow.
Alex shrugs. “Fine. As long as you kill them, I don’t care.”
Cassian pulls in near a line of SUVs and puts the car in park. “Prep.”
He swings out of the driver’s seat and heads for the trunk.
My pulse spikes.
He digs through the trunk and comes up with a reflective road-worker vest. It’s orange, and bright, and ugly, and it should stand out. But it doesn’t. He shrugs it on and becomes instantly unremarkable. Just a man doing a job, nothing more. Even his broad posture turns less threatening.
Which is exactly what we need him to be.
Just a man.
Nathaniel unzips his kit and pulls out vials, syringes, alcohol pads. His hands move with eerie precision, like his exhaustion doesn’t even register. Talon watches from the backseat, impressed enough to shut up for once.
Alex phases through the dashboard and reappears near the windshield.
“Suspect’s still in the driver’s seat,” she says. “Woman’s still at the ATM. You’ve got maybe three minutes. Four if she tries to check her balance twice like an idiot.”
“Good,” Cassian mutters, shutting the trunk.
Nathaniel hands him two syringes, capped and ready. “One each. Press, depress, done.”
“I know,” Cassian says, slipping one into his vest pocket. The other stays in Nathaniel’s hand.
They start walking. A moment later, Cassian glances over his shoulder and motions for me to follow.
I need to move. Join them.
It takes a second for my brain to unfreeze.
I scramble out, heart pounding, and hurry to catch up with Cassian and Nathaniel as the operation begins.
The hunt is officially on.
Whether I want it or not.