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I try to listen for anyone approaching but can’t hear anything.
I hit the turn in the hallway, and I slowly creep around it.
Still empty.
But I spot a door.
A door with a giant deadbolt on the outside.
Bile rises in my throat, but I push forward through my trepidation.
Nothing good locks from the outside.
Sorrow and rage crash into me.
I know what these men do. I know who Gabriel Marcoux is to Hans.
He’s the man responsible for Freya’s disappearance.
He’s the man responsible for her torture and death.
He’s the man who crushed the soul of a teenage Hans.
He’s the type of man who would keep human beings locked in a basement.
I hurry my steps until I stop in front of the door.
My body starts to tremble, so I press my left hand to my chest.
Just breathe.
I want to yell through the door. Let whoever’s inside know I don’t mean them harm. But I can’t be sure there isn’t a bad guy on the other side.
Admitting to myself that I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing, but that I’m going to do it anyway, I decide to mimic every police reenactment I’ve ever seen in my true crime documentaries.
Quick and low.
Steadying the gun, I use my left hand to flip the dead bolt and shove the door open. Then I rush into the room, crouching low and stepping to the side so my back is against the wall.
When I’m not immediately filled with bullets, I tell myself to take a breath.
The room has the same dim lighting as the hall, but it’s enough.
Enough to see the small table and chairs, the pair of bunk beds, the kitchenette in the corner.
But I can’t look at any of that. Because staring back at me, from the other side of the room, are three women.
CHAPTER119
Hans
Karmine’s shoutfor backup pulls my attention away from the man Nero just shot through the heart.
She’s supposed to be getting Cassandra to safety.
There’s another burst of gunfire from the direction of her shout, then it quiets.
A man sprawled on the floor stretches his arm out to the side, reaching for the pistol that lies just out of his grip.
