Chapter 14: Captivity
Kaylee had seen no other signs of life since meeting the Russian pair. She now found herself in unfamiliar territory, having passed Purgatory long before. Moving cautiously, she saw no people and no sets of glowing eyes. Not that she was disappointed.
She knew the area ahead of her was likely to be riddled with guards and members of Miguel's enclave, but she felt hesitant to move forward. She sat in the corner of what used to be a diner, now scarcely intact. The front had caved in, likely the result of a vehicle accident. Any of the ceiling and remaining wall portions had fallen since, but one corner diligently held up.
Kaylee tucked herself into this corner while eating a can of cold soup: chicken noodle, and it was quite delicious.
She was reluctant to move forward because she knew that luxuries like decent, regular meals would disappear. She made a disgusted face. As will rest, dignity, self-respect, virtue, and anything else Miguel feels like taking, she thought. Assuming I even make it that far. They'll probably just shoot me for trespassing.
She tossed the empty can aside and stood up, shouldering her pack and grabbing her little .22 from the ground. She placed it snugly back in the waistband of her jeans. With a forlorn look at the comfortable, safe corner, she took a deep breath and moved on. Nothing besides the usual desolation and decay greeted her, and no one in the gloom could be seen as she walked down the cracked and worn sidewalk.
Every instinct she had screamed for her to duck into alleyways, stay in the shadows, and only skirt the streets when necessary, but she constantly reminded herself that she wasn't trying to hide. She needed to pass as a semi-ordinary traveler trying to find food and shelter. Such people were less common these days, as it ended up being safer to be affiliated and stay with a group of people, even one with a reputation as bad as Miguel's.
For a few hours, she continued her anxious stroll, still without meeting a single soul. She had actually passed into the red light district after going through more businesses, office buildings, and eventually cheap slum-style housing. Surrounded by bars, liquor stores, clubs, and even brothels, she continued walking. The most extreme of these kinds of unsophisticated places had been outlawed by the Citizenship government years earlier, before the Separation. Of course, part of the hedonistic approach of the higher-ranking Citizenship allowed for almost any sort of pleasure, so business in the red-light survived many of the transitions.
Kaylee shuddered as she looked around at the various locations, containing all manner of pleasures from garden variety to bizarre and twisted, all advertised without a hint of shame. The community here hadn't exactly been booming or thriving, but it was, at the very least, tenacious.
It shouldn't be long now, she thought, trying to keep the tension out of her body and appear mostly oblivious. Not that anyone was likely to notice any of her behavior, strange or otherwise. I'm just being paranoid.
"Screw it," she said, hiking her pack up. She abandoned timidity and walked forward with purpose. If I'm going to get caught, I might as well get it over with. The thought of turning tail and hiding somewhere had its appeal, but Kaylee was not going to back down.
Her chances to do so ended a short time later. "Well, hello there, miss." She froze, hearing a masculine voice call out. "What's this we've found? Hey Trip! Red!" He shouted. A medium-height but well-built bald man stepped out from behind a corner. He wore an open thin leather jacket, revealing a mesh tank-top. Over his shoulder he casually slung a dirty AK-47 assault rifle, gritty to the point where Kaylee wondered if it actually worked. With his other hand, he rubbed his goatee as he sauntered over towards Kaylee, sporting a grin. His muscled arms sported tribal tattoos.
Kaylee stood perfectly still, wincing as two other men came jogging up, each carrying their own assault rifles and wearing similar casual attire and tattoos. They spotted Kaylee standing there and smiled wickedly. They slowly advanced on her, with something like hunger in their eyes.
She shuddered involuntarily as they approached. Taking a few steps away, they made no sudden move to stop her but continued advancing. She thought about using her pistol, but she decided it would probably get her killed.
One of the men, probably Trip, who was black with short stringy hair, said, "Very nice find. Mr. Miguel is gonna like this one."
The other man sported a long scar on the side of his face. He had long, tangled red hair, likely the source of his name, and an unruly growth of facial hair. He grinned, revealing several missing teeth. "That's right, he is, and we're going to get the credit for it."
The bald one stepped in front of them, huddling together. "Hold on a sec, boys." He put his hand on Red's shoulder. "We're way out here. No one's around." He spoke in a low, hushed voice. "What if we don't bring her back?" Kaylee felt a shiver down her spine. Oh, this can't be good, she thought, reconsidering the gun.
Red and Trip exchanged nervous glances, and Trip spoke, "But Miguel always have very specific directions. All girls go to him. No exceptions."
The bald one held up his hand. "Yeah, yeah, I know how it goes, but it's like this." He held his folded hands in front of his mouth before saying, "He doesn't have to know, right? I mean, it's not like he doesn't have enough to keep him occupied."
Red spoke, nervously, "I-I don't know, Griff, you seen what happens to people who don't listen to him."
Griff grimaced, and snapped, "Look! I'm tired of getting' nothing but the used up fish he's done with." They avoided meeting his eyes, clearly uncomfortable about the discussion. He looked back and forth between them. "C'mon! Don't you guys want a piece of something fresh?"
Oh, bloody hell dammit, Kaylee thought, continuing to swear in her head as she backed up against the wall, eyes darting around for an escape.
"Griff, c'mon man, just grab her, and we'll head back. We give her to Miguel, and we won't have to come out this far for weeks! We'll get to eat twice a day," Red pleaded.
Trip piped in, "Yeah, yeah; he's right! We don't want to be messin' with Mr. Miguel's property. What he'll do to us just for knowing about it-"
Griff whirled around and spoke sharply. "Then get out of here. You don't have to know anything. I'll get rid of her when I'm done, and no one will know the difference."
Ah the hell with this, she thought. As his sight was turned, Kaylee bolted. At her first sign of movement Griff and the other two started shouting and sprinting after her down the sidewalk. Kaylee cursed her luck as she ran, hearing the heavy footfalls behind her. She was hoping she could run into a few more of Miguel's people; more witnesses to prevent Griff from doing something unseemly. He'll kill me, and this will have been for nothing.
About to turn a corner, she was tackled from behind. She and her assailant sprawled forward and rolled, banging hard against the cold concrete. She found herself lying on her back, her arms and legs pinned, with the grinning face of Griff leering inches from her own. He slapped her, stinging her face and blurring her vision. While she was dazed, he stood up dragged her from the middle of the intersection into a nearby building.
It was the lobby area for some risqué-themed spa whose painted title on the wall had long since been tarnished into unreadability. Griff dragged her behind the secretary's desk, yelling "Keep watch!" to Red and Trip, who exchanged uncomfortable glances.
Kaylee kicked at him. He grabbed her legs and dropped down, pinning her to the ground. Waves of revulsion crawled over her as his hot, stinking breath washed over her neck. She writhed and struggled. With one hand, he gripped held both of her arms together over her head, the other fumbling at his waist.
"Sit still, blast you!" he said, slapping her again. Her vision blurred to darkness for a moment, and her struggles weakened. He took the opportunity, and she felt him lift up enough to start tugging at her own jeans. In her daze, she tried to push at his rough hands, feeling a white-hot rage boil up. Pulling together some clarity, she screamed, pulled her legs up, and kicked him hard in the face.
Griff yelled and stumbled
backwards. The secretary's desk had nestled into a rounded corner, doors on either side going to respective changing rooms. Griff tripped over his half-removed pants and fell through the right doorway. Kaylee seized the opportunity to spring to her feet. She reached back to grab the pistol in her waistband, intending to shoot the bastard no matter the cost.
Only it was gone. Kaylee swore and spun around, running through the door opposite where Griff had fallen. She stumbled through a swinging door into the female locker room, sprinting through the area.
She plowed through the back door into a lounge area. There were pillars supporting several tiers of balcony that wrapped the open area in a square-shape. It was dark with no lights running, but from the meager lighting cast outside, Kaylee could see there were a few circular whirlpools off to one side and several small square pits. Numerous lounge chairs were scattered around, and the entire tile flooring was grimy and unclean.
Kaylee stood in the doorway, scanning about as she heard clamoring from the opposite side. Quickly and quietly, she crouched around the wall to hide behind the door, sliding the switchblade out of her pocket as she did and snapping it open. Here we go again, she thought.
The door burst open, and Griff paused as she had done, jerking his head back and forth as he took in the surroundings. Kaylee leapt at his flank, and with a battle cry she jammed the knife into his chest under the right collar-bone.
Griff shrieked as the blade sunk to its hilt, blood spilling down his midsection. He took a swing at Kaylee with his opposite arm. She anticipated it and ducked under, running deeper into the room. At that moment, the sound of glass breaking snatched her attention: a window in the far right corner. In her distraction, she tripped over some unseen object, stumbling forward into a pillar. Before she could collect herself, he was on her.
"You're dead, bitch," he growled, pinning her against the column, blood oozing out of the wound which still carried the knife.
He put his powerful grip on her throat, choking the air from her. She gasped and pounded at his arms. She grabbed the knife hilt protruding from his chest and twisted. He bellowed in rage and agony, but it only served to tighten his grip. Stars danced before her eyes, and the world took on a hazy blur; her hand slipped off the blade. Reality dimmed and fell towards darkness.
Before she blacked out, he released her. She fell to the ground, coughing hard and her vision blurry.
Her ears brought to her the sounds of struggle, scuffling and exertion as Griff fought with some silent assailant. The sounds of shuffling feet reached a flurry, then, with a loud thump and a quickly stifled cry from Griff, they ceased. These were replaced by the horrific noises of gagging and choking. Kaylee opened her eyes and lifted her head, which felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.
Her vision swam lazily in front of her, but she could see Griff on his knees, with some figure standing behind him. An arm was wrapped around his throat. Griff, eyes and veins bulging, flailed his arms backwards, trying to save himself to no avail. The figure twisted its body, snapping Griff's neck with an effortless crack. He fell to the ground face first, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.
In slow motion, she pulled herself into a sitting position, finally seeing the figure who wore a long brown trench coat and wide brimmed hat, sitting atop a mass of cloth which hid its face.
"Malcolm," she whispered.
Automatic weapons fire roared through the air, and Malcolm was propelled sideways as several bullets tore into his body. Kaylee opened her mouth and screamed as she watched the form tumble through the air towards the shadows in the room.
Red and Trip were yelling expletives as they continued firing wildly into the darkness. After a moment, the two ceased and ran forward, still sweeping their weapons back and forth.
"Did you get it? Did you get it!?" Trip shouted, frantically watching the shadows.
"Yeah, but it ain't dead!" Red cried, kneeling over Griff. "Did you see where it went?"
"No, I didn't! Did you-"
"Shit, oh shit, man. He's dead!"
Grabbing Kaylee's arm, Trip yanked her to her feet, eyes wide and scanning the room. "What the hell was that thing?"
"I don't know, man. I don't know!"
"We shot it! It should be dead. W-we both shot it!"
"I know, man. I know! Let's just get outta here before it comes back!" Red scooped up Kaylee as she started to topple over. He threw her over his shoulder and started running towards the exit. Kaylee's vision swam again, her head thudding along with the frantic running and cursing of her captors.
Outside the building in the street, her eyes opened long enough to light upon her small .22, knocked out of her waistband when Griff tackled her. With an effort, she shoved herself free of the man's grasp and tumbled onto the ground, rolling over the weapon and grasping it in her hands. The two men, still yelling, hauled her up again. With their fear and distraction, neither man saw her return the weapon to the back of her jeans, concealed under her thick sweatshirt.
Several blocks later, they stopped, too exhausted to keep pace. Red dropped Kaylee, who flopped to the ground. Her throat and head screamed in pain, and her vision remained slightly hazy.
"You!" A gun barrel wavered in front of her face. "What the hell was that thing?!"
She coughed, rubbing her throat. In a weak voice she said, "I…I don't know."
Red was watching all sides, jerkily sweeping his gun back and forth. "What do you mean you don't know?! You were right there; you saw it!" he yelled.
Her strained voice came out, "I didn't get a good look!" She glared up at the two of them. "I was too busy being strangled!"
Without another word, she was hauled roughly to her feet, and they set off at a hurried pace. She half-jogged, half-stumbled between them as Trip urged her onward with the occasional shove. They kept glancing backwards, startled by every shadow, jumping at every sound.
Finally, they stopped again, outside a chain-link fence with a small opening, guarded by two men. "Shit, Red, you looked like you seen a ghost!" came the jeering call.
"Shut it, Griff's dead!" he snapped back.
"What?! How?" The other man looked shocked.
"I don't know man. Some big, monster thing just snapped his neck. Like it was nothing!" He looked at his gun. "We shot it, both of us did, but it didn't die; it just ran off." He turned to Trip. "Nothing could have survived that. Nothing!"
The fence guards looked at Trip with eyes wide, waiting for him to confirm or deny the story. The haunted fear in his eyes was confirmation enough. "Look, just keep an eye out for it, okay?" The guards exchanged anxious glances. They didn't want anything to do with some freakish monster. Trip shoved Kaylee forward, and said, "We found this girl in the area. We brought her for Mr. Miguel."
With tightened grips on their weapons, nervously watching the streets in front of them, they stepped aside. Trip walked through the opening, gripping Kaylee's arm with one hand and pulling her along behind. Red followed, still nervously twitching. They came into another district, laid out in the same grid-fashion as every other area. They walked by several low-income housing apartment buildings, more empty bars and clubs. Various people were milling around, chatting in small groups. Her captors seemed to relax as they came into more familiar territory with more familiar people around.
They continued on for a couple of blocks until they entered a small square, more like a diamond, with entrances to the buildings on each corner. In front of them stretched the massive club and hotel called Heavenly Bodies. All of the large red neon letters of the sign still, surprisingly, glowed in the night. They featured a few silhouetted women-shapes laying across or leaning against them.
Kaylee made a brief struggle to break free, but Trip's grasp did not loosen. He half-pulled, half-dragged her up the staircase to the door, where a huge, burly man sat cradling a submachine gun in his lap. He saw the two pulling the unwilling woman behind and opened the door for them without comment, as though it was a common sight. It probably is, Kaylee
thought with a grimace.
Inside, dim recessed lighting provided an ambiance and soft glow through the hazy air. They walked through a bar area where dozens of people, mostly men with a few women, sat chatting, drinking, and smoking with some rock music playing from a speaker by the counter. Through the bar, they passed through a set of thick, frosted-glass doors into a lounge area with a circular stage, which was empty save for a few poles extending into the ceiling.
Kaylee hadn't been in a place like it before, but she had a pretty good idea of the room's purpose. Trip dragged her along, past people lounging in huge leather booths, and soft music began to play. Kaylee looked over at the stage, and her jaw dropped slightly when she saw a woman, barely dressed, saunter out from behind the back curtain.
Before she could stare any further, Trip gave her one final shove. Kaylee stumbled and fell to her knees outside a large circular booth with a small round table in the center. She looked up, staring into the face of a surprisingly handsome, fit man with lightly bronzed skin. He wore clean, white cotton pants, a button-down white shirt, and a crème-colored sport coat. Around his neck was a chain holding a pendant of a fox. A trail of wispy smoke curled from the tip of a cigar, held in his left hand. His right lay around the shoulders of a clearly uncomfortable woman, wearing-
Kaylee gasped. The woman was dressed in a bikini, and goosebumps stood out on every inch of her thin, exposed skin. She appeared extremely cold. Kaylee glanced back over at the stage, seeing the woman dancing around the poles. Her face was a stone mask, and her eyes seemed lifeless as she swayed and twisted her body in the dance. There were a couple of people in adjacent booths and around the lounge that had ceased watching the dancer, turning to see the newcomer. Kaylee shuddered and turned back towards the man, who finally looked down at her.
He grinned, revealing a couple of gold teeth. "Well, hello there, my dear." His voice was smooth and deep, containing a hint of an accent Kaylee couldn't identify. Probably faked to make himself sound more exotic, she thought. It would have been soothing had Kaylee not sensed the flood of carnal desire creeping into it. "You are quite the pretty little thing, aren't you?"
Red stepped forward. "Boss, I-"
Miguel's head snapped upward, his face a mask of anger. "Quiet! Can you not see that I am trying to comfort this poor girl?" Red's mouth snapped closed, and he stepped back.
Turning his attention back to Kaylee, Miguel's anger melted into a warm smile. "I apologize for the behavior of my men. They are brutish and stupid." He glared up at the pair, who lowered their heads in submission. "Come, sit beside me." He gestured at the open seat next to him. Kaylee looked into the eyes of the other girl, whose face was pitiful and filled with sorrow. Miguel transferred his cigar to his other hand, which sat right in front of the girl's face. Eyes widened, the girl noticed the large chunk of burning ash hanging precariously over her bare legs. She squirmed away from it.
Miguel calmly removed his arm from her shoulders, placed his cigar on the ashtray on the table, turned towards the woman, and backhanded her.
"You stupid, filthy cow. You dare express revulsion at my touch?" She squealed, cowering in the seat as he raised his hand to strike her again. "I am a gift to you, woman! You would have nothing without me. I give you food, shelter, care. I give you pleasures beyond your wildest dreams! And this is how you thank me?" He lashed out, striking her again. She flopped facedown onto the cushion, sobbing softly into the black leather. Miguel rolled his neck and dusted off his shoulders. His face still betrayed his irritation as he looked at Kaylee and gestured at the seat next to him, "Perhaps you, dear girl, will understand my generosity. Have a seat."
Kaylee sensed an opportunity that she wouldn't likely get again. There's no way I'm making it out of this anyway, she thought. Still kneeling in front of him, she crawled over. She reached behind her, giving Miguel a coy smile to distract him. He cocked his head slightly, confused at her sudden warmth, and smiled back. She gripped the small .22 pistol in her hand and put the other on Miguel's knee. Behind her, she heard Trip and Red as she pulled the tiny weapon free. She whipped it around, sticking the gun into his ribcage.
Kaylee squeezed the trigger, filling the room with the polite crack! of such a little weapon. She was slightly shocked after the discharge to find her wrist across her body, in the grasp of Miguel's hand with the pistol aiming into the leather cushion. Screaming, the girl on stage dropped covered her head. A small, ragged hole lay in the cushion, barely an inch away from Miguel's torso.
Miguel smirked and turned over Kaylee's wrist, causing her to cry out as he examined the weapon. "Look at this! Such a tiny thing yet so potent." He looked down at Kaylee, whose arm was bent at an awkward angle. "Much like you, I would wager, my dear."
Kaylee gritted her teeth and searched her pocket, seeking the switchblade. Dismayed, she remembered that it remained several blocks away, stuck in the chest of a dead person.
Miguel wrenched the pistol out of Kaylee's grip with his other hand and put it on the cushion next to him. He reached into his jacket, pulling out a large magnum revolver before placing the barrel at Kaylee's temple, still holding her wrist.
"If you are carrying anything else, I would suggest leaving it be." He cocked an eyebrow at the nervous-looking forms of Red and Trip. "Of course, this wouldn't have been a problem if you had brought her here properly prepared." His intense gaze bored into them.
Terror seeped into their eyes, and they exchanged glances. Both started babbling apologies, "So sorry, sir- Griff's fault- won't happen aga-" rumbled together.
Miguel cut them both off, "Quiet! I won't have your foolish excuses on top of your incompetence." The two fell silent, hanging their heads. Kaylee thought it was almost comical.
He hauled Kaylee up in a deft move, spinning her around. Releasing her wrist, she came down on his lap and felt his arm curl around her midsection. She fought the urge to vomit at his touch, but she didn't struggle, as he now held the gun at an angle on the side of her face, caressing it with the tip of the barrel. His breath hissed into her neck, and she could sense his filthy grin. "I suppose I can't be too upset can I? You've given me the opportunity to search her myself."
She shuddered as his hand roamed across her figure. On certain places, he lingered longer than was necessary, filling her with a bitter anger. She tried to pull away, but he pressed the gun into her cheek. Fuming, she bore the violation as he completed his extensive search. He slid her from his lap to the seat, opposite his other girl. The woman had since sat up again, a few tears rolling down her cheek as she shivered from her state of undress. An angry red welt was rising on her cheek.
Miguel extended his arm around Kaylee, who slid away on the cushion from him, slapping his hand and glaring at him. "Don't touch me, you piece of shit."
Tossing his head backwards, he laughed. "Such fire, such spirit!" He threw his arms wide open, grinning at Trip and Red, who still waited to be dismissed. "Well done, my friends. Any of your foolishness today is forgiven a thousand times over by bringing me this delightful creature."
The two beamed, standing up straight. Kaylee again had the urge to laugh out loud at them standing there, like little children proud of their accomplishments. Miguel turned away from them, appraising Kaylee up and down with obvious enjoyment. She scowled back at him with her arms folded, inching as far away as the edge of the cushion would allow, wishing she still had her weapon…
Which she now noticed was sitting on the cushion next to Miguel, who had seemingly forgotten about it and the other girl in the presence of Kaylee. Miguel noticed the pair of underlings eagerly awaiting their reward. "What are you still doing here? Get out." He waved them off. They exchanged dismayed glances and turned away.
During this brief exchange Kaylee saw that the woman's glance kept sliding down to the small pistol as she inched her hand towards it. Kaylee's eyes went wide and her breath caught in her throat as the girl's hand closed over the weapon and started to lift it.
Miguel
turned and fired his huge revolver without hesitation, filling the room with a roar that made Kaylee's gunshot sound like a tiny squeak. Kaylee screamed as blood, bone, and brain matter sprayed in what seemed like every direction as the bullet shredded an exit wound out of the woman's head. The smoking barrel held poised as Miguel frowned, looking down at his spattered clothing. The dead woman remained upright for a moment before falling from the couch onto the floor, a pool of blood spreading beneath her.
Everyone in the room, including the dancer, who hadn't yet gotten up from the previous event, froze and watched Miguel. He sighed, sliding the revolver back into his shoulder holster. "Such a waste," he murmured, straightening his jacket. Kaylee couldn't tell if he was speaking about the woman or his clothing.
Red and Trip came running, holding their rifles. Miguel stood up, "Good, you're back. You," he pointed at Red, "get rid of that." He motioned to the dead woman. The two exchanged brief glances before awkwardly grabbing the woman's arms and extracting her limp body from the booth. Red tossed her over his shoulder and walked out of the room, the woman's blood dripping along behind him as he went. The stage dancer had disappeared behind the curtain, and several of the other people in the area were on their feet, watching.
Miguel sighed again as he looked at the trail of blood left on the carpet. "Good help is so hard to find." He turned to Trip. "Get someone to clean this up."
Trip stepped forward, "Boss, I need to talk with y-"
Miguel stepped up to him, face inches away. He bared his teeth and asked, "Was there something unclear about my instructions?"
"No, boss, but-"
"Then why are you still standing here?"
Trip winced and backed away a couple of steps, and spoke again, "I need to tell you something-"
Miguel bore down on him again, anger etched into the lines of his face, "Do you understand that there is nothing you can say that will interest me in the slightest? Get moving, now!"
"Boss, Griff is dead!" he blurted.
Miguel stepped back, attitude abruptly changing from anger to curiosity, "Really? What happened?" No concern lay in his voice.
"I don't know, boss; we were by that big spa building." He paused as he recalled the insubordination of Griff, now worried about the potential of punishment.
Miguel picked up on the hesitation, grabbing Trip by the shoulders. "What is it? Tell me all that happened."
Trip swallowed hard. "It was Griff, boss. He didn't want to bring the girl to you. He took her inside the building, and… and he made us stand outside and keep watch. He was going to just get rid of her when he was done."
Miguel scowled. "Then the swine got what he deserved. You took care of him, yes?"
"No, boss-"
"Then who? The girl?" He favored Kaylee with a huge. "My dear, you continue to impress me!"
"No, boss. I mean, yes, she did stab him, I think, and they were fighting, but…" he trailed off, clearly frightened.
Miguel shook him. "What is it? Tell me!"
"It, w-was some kind of monster. It grabbed Griff and broke his neck, like it was nothin'! Then, me and… me and Red we came in, and-and…" Trip stuttered, "and started shootin'! The thing takes, like, a dozen bullets, like it was nothin', and, and then it just disappeared!"
Miguel eyed Trip for several moments. "I think I believe you," he said, slowly. "Hmm... what do you say?" he asked Kaylee.
Kaylee glowered up at him. "Go to hell."
A quick flash of irritation passed across Miguel's face, but it faded into another smile that made Kaylee want to crawl out of her skin. "It is all right, my dove. You will warm up to me," his eyes darkened, "one way or another."
Kaylee swallowed hard as Miguel turned back towards Trip, whispering some series of instructions that she was unable to hear. She leaned in closer but couldn't make out anything of importance.
Trip nodded with vigor and walked off, slinging the assault rifle over his shoulder. Kaylee tensed up as Miguel turned back towards her. "Why don't we move to somewhere else; this will need to be cleaned before we can return. Perhaps we can find something to eat," he smiled at her, "I'm dying to get to know you."
The thought of something to eat didn't sound terrible, sadly even after witnessing gruesome violence, so Kaylee stood up. Miguel put his arm around her waist, guiding her. She resisted the urge to shake him off or punch him in the face. The thought occurred to try and grab his revolver from the unbuttoned jacket, but her mind replayed the splatter and surprised look on the woman's face as her life abruptly ended. She decided to behave. For now, she thought.
Without a fuss, she allowed herself to be led out of the room, people with buckets and rags already filing in. With as much malice as she could muster, she thought to herself, Dying to get to know me, huh? You're gonna get more than you asked for you son of a bitch.
Uprising Page 22
