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There are at least eight other people in the cage with us, though my aching head keeps trying to make the number shift. A man with a split lip sits against the fence, one arm wrapped around his ribs. A woman rocks back and forth near an overturned bench, whispering to herself. Two teenagers huddle beneath an old directory sign, knees pulled to their chests.
No one looks hopeful.
I pull Poppy into my chest. She comes immediately, small body shaking against me. I wrap both arms around her and press my mouth to her hair. She smells like dirt, sweat, and the shampoo we’re running out of.
“What happened after I got knocked out?” I whisper.
Her fingers twist in my shirt. “They put us in a truck and drove us to the mall. One guy kept using the radio. They carried us at gunpoint to this.” She gestures around the cage. “We’ve been here ever since.”
My stomach turns. “How long?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice gets smaller. “A while. A couple hours maybe.”
Hours.
The others should be back by now.
The thought punches through the fog in my head, sharp and bright. Leon will know. He’ll come.
Poppy pulls back to look at me. Her mouth trembles, and something darker moves through her expression. “Mom,” she whispers. “He’s . . .”
A metal door screeches open down the hallway.
Poppy shuts her mouth so fast the words die between us.
Everyone in the cage goes still.
Like prey.
Boots echo over tile.
A group comes into view through the mall’s dim, flickering light. Six people. Maybe seven. Armed. Dirty. Comfortable in a way that makes my skin crawl. They move like this place belongs to them, like every dark storefront, broken escalator, and stained floor tile is part of their kingdom.
Two of them push a metal cart between them. Covered bowls rattle on top, each one hidden beneath a dented lid. Something thin and greasy sloshes inside with every uneven turn of the wheels.
The man in front wears a long brown fur coat that might have been expensive once. It’s torn now, stained dark at the cuffs. His hair is slicked back, too clean compared to the others, and his smile is the kind men use when they get exactly what they wanted.
The leader.
Goose bumps spread over my arms.
He stops outside the cage and spreads his hands. “Good. Our newest guests are awake.”
Poppy presses closer to me.
I keep one arm around her and force myself to stand. The hallway sways, but I lock my knees and stare back.
The leader’s eyes move over me, then Poppy. “You two caused quite the problem in the woods.”
“Sorry,” I say. “Next time I’ll let strange men attack my daughter without ruining anyone’s day.”
A few of his people chuckle.
The leader’s smile widens. “Spirit. I like that.”
“I don’t care.”
His eyes flash, but the smile stays. “You will.”
