CHAPTER NINE #3
“No cameras,” Danny murmurs, his voice tense through the suffocating silence hanging over us, save for the low beeping noise.
We haven’t been game enough to talk, because while we might have an idea of what’s down here, we don’t know how many guards there are lurking around, waiting to put a bullet in our skulls the second we turn the wrong corner.
I keep my own weapon raised, ready for anything as we move.
A steel door slams somewhere further down the corridor before a voice suddenly reverberates toward us, followed by fast footsteps seconds later.
We kill our lights, the corridor plunging into total darkness just as Danny grabs the back of my jacket and yanks me sideways against the wall.
Billy disappears opposite us near one of the doors while the footsteps grow louder. Closer.
I don’t get the chance to see what or who is coming, before Danny explodes out of the dark beside me, flicking on his light and grabbing the bastard by the jaw hard enough to wrench his head backward before dragging the blade across the guy’s throat in one, vicious motion.
The knife opens him up instantly. Blood erupts everywhere.
Across the walls, across Danny’s hands. Painting the concrete beneath our boots a pretty crimson before he finally collapses, choking at Danny’s feet.
His hands claw uselessly at the gaping wound at his throat, the wet, gargling noise bouncing around us with each of his attempts at a cry.
Danny fucking grins. Damn psychopath. He doesn’t hesitate before stepping over the dying body while the guy twitches and drowns in his own blood behind us as we continue.
There’s no mercy in Danny. There’s no mercy in either of us as we search the dark ahead for any other signs of movement.
The smell is the first thing that gives me pause.
Not the bleach this time, though there is still plenty of that around.
No, this time it’s a thick, eye-watering stench applied by someone who knows that smell is evidence and evidence is a fucking liability.
Antiseptic coats the back of my throat the moment I clear the bottom of the second staircase.
But the thing underneath all of that is blood.
Dried and fresh in equal measure, the copper-iron rising through the bleach the way truth rises through the best constructed lie.
Entirely indifferent to the effort spent trying to suppress it.
Underground air has its own particular scent.
Recycled smog that carries the history of whatever has been breathing in the dark.
Whatever… whoever is down here, has been breathing for fuck knows how long.
If we have it our way, they won’t be for much longer.
I quiet my thoughts and focus, hoping to pick up any obvious smells of cologne, something that would indicate that there are others down here.
Danny and Billy keep ahead of me, their heads hanging low as they quietly pass through the strobing corridor, their silhouettes swallowed by the fluorescent lights still failing overhead.
I follow close behind them, my weapon raised and ready, keeping my steps light against the concrete, because one wrong sound will collapse this whole thing before we have seen what we came to see.
And I want to fucking see it. The beeping grows louder with each door we pass, and the closer we get to the sound the further away it becomes.
We peek through the arches and doorways that line either side of the corridor.
Some of the rooms are filled with medical equipment and monitors, all unplugged.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this place was a ghost town.
But I do know better, and that’s exactly what they want us to believe.
These feral assholes don’t have a unique fucking bone in their bodies.
The guys shoot each other a nod, before looking back over their shoulder to check on me.
They know I don’t need a fucking babysitter, but Titan practically raised me and old habits die hard.
What mattered to him, matters to Ezekiel too, and I suppose I appreciate the sentiment.
Our jobs aren’t exactly safe, and we are family.
Not by blood, but by bond. The outfit may have changed drastically over the years since Ezekiel took over as Don, but there is one thing that has never faltered.
Family looks out for family.
Always.
It’s the reason we’re all still standing.
In our world, that kind of loyalty is rare enough to be dangerous. It’s the only thing worth killing for. Which is exactly what we intend to do. Those bastards have done enough. Caused enough. Destroyed enough. I’ll be damned if we let them destroy us too.
With that thought, we reach the end of the vacant hallway and stop before the only closed door we’ve found so far. A little obvious, but maybe they’re too arrogant and fucked up to care. Maybe they didn’t think we’d make it this far.
They’re about to find out how wrong they are.