Page 28 of No Greater Oblivion

Whatever ruled me before—conscience, preservation, morality—is gone. It all shuts down.

In three quick strides I’m in front of Paco. He flinches but remains silent when I bend down and scoop up the first thing I set eyes on; a crowbar. Spinning on the balls of my feet, I cross the short distance and with a single, powerful swing, send the hooked end of the crowbar crashing into Suarez’s temple.

It catches everyone off guard, including the man groaning at my feet. Beltrán’s eyes widen first with confusion then fear.

“What are you⁠—”

Turning a few inches to my left, I flip the crowbar in my grasp and send the blunt end crashing against the side of Beltrán’s face. The hit surprises him and he falls to his side, unable to get back up with his wrists and ankles tied.

Paco, Rodrigo, Dimitrio, and Diego all stand around the empty container, stiff as metal rods, faces unreadable. Diego flinches as if to reach out to me but when our eyes meet, something stops him from doing so.

Using the hooked end of the crowbar, I yank Suarez up by the neck until he’s kneeling again. I press the flat end of the metal against his forehead and look down at Beltrán who spits up another mouthful of blood.

“Was it Sandro who started the fire at the lounge? Answer quickly,” I say quietly. “Your friend’s life depends on it.”

Suarez trembles. “Please. I’m all my daughter has⁠—”

I push the crowbar into his flesh without breaking eye contact with Beltrán. “Well?”

Beltrán hesitates, so I change tactics. I hook the crowbar under his legs to make sure it catches at the duct tape around his ankles before I yank him toward me. Paco picks up on what I’m doing and without needing instruction, reaches into the duffle bag and tosses a knife in my direction. My hands are throbbing with a dull, hot pain that’s quickly subsiding as adrenaline rushes through my body. I cut the duct tape and before Beltrán can try to escape, I take hold of his ankle, bend his leg at the knee, and then ram my foot into the back of his calf, the sound of his high-pitched shrill rivaled only by the nasty crunch of bone breaking.

Suarez visibly trembles and snaps his head around. Beltrán flops around on the metal floor like a fish out of water and his cries of agony quickly descend into erratic sobs of pain when I do the same to his other leg. Jagged bone cuts through muscle, flesh, and skin, protruding from the fabric of his jeans. I pick up the discarded crowbar and hook the end around Suarez’s neck again, forcing him to look at Beltrán.

“I’m going to ask you a series of questions and you’re going to give me honest answers. Otherwise, your next cellmate will be Bianca. I’ll make you watch as I break every bone in her little body and then lock you in here with her corpse so you can watch her rot.” I bend down so we’re eye level. “Beltrán’s already dead but Bianca doesn’t have to be.”

Suarez exhibits impressive self-control. There’s fear in his eyes but his voice doesn’t tremble when he speaks. “Sandro’s had a tail on the girl for weeks. He’s been planning it since before your confrontation last month.”

Beltrán bellows on the ground. “Tomás!”

I spin around and lodge the knife in my left hand into the back of his neck. Giving it a firm twist, I hear bone crack and he collapses. Suarez winces and moves away.

I tug on the crowbar still around his neck. “What else?”

“I don’t know much else. Only that he intended for her to be at the lounge that night—he had one of the workers, a girl with colorful hair—on his payroll and she was supposed to leave the backdoor open for Frida. All I know is something went wrong. Frida called us in for help⁠—”

“Help with what?”

“I don’t know but I think it had something to do with the trap she set going off too early. We lost contact with her and the building caught fire…” Suarez trails off. “Is she dead?”

“Yes,” I say. “When you get to Hell, send her my regards.”

Suarez doesn’t have time to draw in a last breath before I’ve taken hold of his jaw and the back of his head. The crack of his neck is swift and easy, and his lifeless body collapses beside Beltrán’s.

No one says anything. They don’t even breathe in my direction.

I rise to my feet and ignore the pulsating pain in my hands. I gesture vaguely to the bodies behind me on the way out. “Clean it up.”

Dimitrio and Diego follow me out in silence. As we walk back to the car, my mind is whirring in a million different directions.

“Get my sister on the phone. Now.”

Diego unlocks the car while Dimitrio digs into his pocket and produces his phone. A few seconds later, he hands it to me and I lift it to my ear.

“What do you need?”

“What you used on Garcia last summer…do you have any more of that?”

A beat passes. “Who?”