Kill Shot

by Sheri Landry

  She lives here, in an old shack, with nothing more than a padlock I could snap with a weak bolt cutter. Hell, I could probably open it by putting my shoulder to it.

  Guilt eats at the lining of my stomach as I picture all the luxuries I lived with over the last year while she simply survived, by herself, in the middle of nowhere. My gums ache as I clench my teeth together. My attention fixates on the rusted lock that’s supposed to keep Dana safe at night.

  “It’s not so bad.” Her subdued tone catches me off guard, and I shift my attention to meet her eyes. “Um, the place. It’s pretty up here in the day.” She shrugs. Her restrained smile doesn’t meet her eyes. Opening the door, she flips a switch, and a light flickers a few times before staying on. She leads the way inside.

  Grey catches my attention as he follows Dana inside.

  “Your resting bitch face is lit.” Whispering, he lifts his hand to his face, pointing around his mouth as he softens his features in an attempt to tell me to school myself. I must be wearing my thoughts in a scowl, and I’m not making this situation any better.

  Hiding the tension I’m carrying is harder than it sounds, and I head straight for the first empty space I see, dropping the bag on the table and turning my back on the room to collect my thoughts.

  As a distraction, I go over Grey’s update in my head. Link was able to identify our first shooter: Blake Turner. There’s nothing special about him, other than he is considered an amateur in the world of contract killers. Using that information, Link’s team—minus Jessa of course—was able to access his email and the information we needed on Dana’s contract.

  We already knew there were a total of four takers. Whether or not the final three are here or still looking for her, we don’t know, but if someone as low-level as Blake found her, we need to operate under the assumption that everyone knows where she is. As far as the details, the contract has two payment levels and an incentive.

  The first is a basic hit. The payout is low. On its own, the contract isn’t worth taking. The money is in retrieving the files. The contract is vague; no doubt Maxwell doesn’t want to advertise that a copy of Zane is still out there. It references collecting all digital files in her possession and offers examples of phones, laptops, and storage devices. This would require a level of surveillance. The payout on those files is through the roof.

  Then there’s the incentive; the last part of the contract is very interesting. The buyer wishes to witness Dana's execution, if possible, and it carries a bonus. This means Maxwell is close enough that he can get here quickly once notified. Being the snake he is, he won’t stick his head out unless it’s a sure thing.

  The events from earlier this evening sink into the pit of my stomach. We were lucky one of the contractors was this Blake guy. If we’d had four experienced hitters, she might not be standing here. If things hadn’t gone sideways like they did, we wouldn’t have been there. Blake must have panicked and decided to cut his losses, claim the basic hit, and get out of Dodge.

  A more seasoned shooter would have waited. They don’t get out of bed for the pennies the first level of the hit paid out.

  From over my shoulder, I listen as Dana gives Grey a tour of the place while he lights the logs in the fireplace. Neither of them are walking anywhere. This one-room cabin is so small, you can get to every corner in less than ten steps.

  Taking a deep breath, I clear my mind before turning around. As I rejoin Dana and Grey, the door creaks open and Jack enters. Logan remains behind him, holding the door open a crack.

  “Perimeter is clear, and the alarms are set. Grey, you’re heading back with Jekyll tonight. Get some rest. Charlie will bring you back in the morning. Grizz, I’m with you.” I nod, unsure of what to say, and my awkward display catches Dana’s attention.

  “Sure thing.” Grey rocks back on his heels before turning to Dana to say goodnight. He nods in my direction before following Logan out.

  The walls are thin. A twig breaks outside as they make their way to the car. Two doors thud closed, and the engine comes to life. The little room lights up before it dims as they pull away and onto the dirt road.

  Noticing the bag, Jack walks toward the table, hovering his hand over our supplies before glancing at Dana. Clenching his fist once, he opens the zipper and removes a rifle and two pistols with their silencers, followed by a walkie-talkie and a radio. Dana’s eyes widen.

  After Dana told us all to fuck off, we had a discussion about what she needed to know. We can’t keep her safe if she doesn’t listen to us; she won’t listen to us if we don’t tell her how much danger she’s really in. And the only way we can do that is to power up her need-to-know level.

  “Don’t touch! Dana—I’m looking at you. Do you understand me?” Jack points at the weapons displayed on the table. He is as stern as I’ve ever seen him, and she picks her jaw up off the floor and nods frantically. “Now, get comfortable. We’re going to have a talk.” He points his finger at the ugly couch in front of the fireplace.

  “Can I heat up some water for tea? I haven’t had anything since lunch except those drinks. I feel a bit ill.” There is no sass in her voice. The poor thing looks like she’s barely treading water.

  “Of course,” I answer, stepping in front of Jack. I don’t want to be the bad guy here, so I strain a smile, waiting for her to accept my pathetic olive branch.

  The smile she returns is just as forced as my own. She takes the five steps toward the cupboards as Jack picks the radio up off the table.

  “There’s no radio up here,” she answers flatly. She pulls out a small cooking range, attaching a mini propane tank before opening a bottle of water and pouring the contents into an old pot.

  “That’s not what I’m looking for.” Jack twists the knob before turning the dial as he walks around the room.

  “Is that a camping stove?” I wince. I could have asked my question more artfully.

  She glances over her shoulder without turning to face me. “The element on the stove doesn’t work. This heats up faster.” She opens the cupboard to pull out the tea, and it isn’t lost on me how little she has to eat up here. Only two of the five shelves have something on them.

  As the water heats up, she turns, holding a small plate filled with cookies, and I catch myself before outwardly telling her those are animal crackers. We all know what they are; she doesn’t need me to make her feel bad about them. And so I smile.

  “The tea is steeping. I apologize for my lack of appetizers. Had I known I’d be entertaining tonight, I would have picked something up at the bakery. I’ll get some scones tomorrow.” Her sarcasm is evident.

  Jack chuckles. “You won’t be going back to the coffee shop.” His comment is final, and she freezes mid-step as he continues to move around the room, holding the radio out to check for bugs.

  “What? You said I could go back tomorrow. That’s why I left with you—and got shot at.” Her voice raises with each sentence as she looks incredulously between us.

  “We’re clear.” Jack’s announcement is for me; there are no bugs in the cabin. Setting the radio on the table, he turns his attention to Dana. “Things have changed. Your shop has been compromised.” He observes her reaction while he speaks. We both know her trust has a limit.

  Her shoulders rise and fall with the deep breaths she’s taking. Her eyes jump between us before she snaps out of her thought, hiding her emotions with a tight smile and placing the plate on the small crate she uses as a coffee table.

  “Let’s sit, and we’ll tell you what we know. I think you’ll agree: we need to pack up and get you out of here as soon as possible.” Jack grabs a wooden chair sitting off by itself beside the fireplace, and I step back, allowing Dana to choose her seat on the couch before taking the other side.

  Everyone shuffles, getting comfortable, and I lean forward to take a cracker off the plate. Dana follows my lead, and we take a bite at the same time. They’ve turned stale, and, judging by the way she is chewing her food, she knows i
t, but I won’t let her feel bad. I keep my eyes on her, popping the butt half of the animal cracker into my mouth and finishing the dry cookie as Jack starts talking.

  “We’ve learned details about the hit on you. Grizz tells me you know the contract had four takers?” Dana nods her head, swallowing down the last of her mouthful. “The contract is broken up into parts. There is a hit on your life, but mainly the buyer wants the files you destroyed.” Jack stops short of mentioning the incentive. Knowing Maxwell is within striking distance will set Dana off, and neither of us are sure which direction she would go in.

  “So what would happen if he found out his files were gone?” Her brows knit together.

  “Well, we don’t know for sure,” I answer, and her eyes meet mine. “The payout on the hit alone is extremely low, and you aren’t exactly a prime candidate for a contract killing. A woman who is not a threat to anyone, on the run, for such a low value, wouldn’t sit right with many of these guys. You may still have someone hunting you, but if we can keep you safe, the contract might be canceled.” She weighs my every word as she stares me down after I finish speaking.

  “It sounds like it’s a good thing the files are gone then, right? What were they anyway?” Her eyes jump from Jack to me, and I look to Jack to silently ask him if this is information we are cleared to share.

  Shrugging, he shakes his head. She crosses her arms, staring Jack down. I’ve been around her long enough to know this look. She knows we’re keeping things from her, and any trust we’ve built up is trickling away.

  I break the staring contest these two are holding when I shift in my seat, twisting my knees to face Dana.

  “Grizz.” Jack’s tone is cold, a warning. I already know what he thinks I’m going to say, but I wouldn’t put his woman at risk. Holding up my hand, I ask for his trust and wait for his answer.

  One silent nod. He’s giving me a very short rope, and it’s probably just enough to hang myself with.

  I look back to Dana and take a long breath of my own.

  “You had a copy of Zane on your phone.”

  12

  Dana

  “You had a copy of Zane on your phone.” I’m in a daze as Grizz offers me the little nugget of information Jack wanted to keep from me, and, dear God, I hope I still have my half smile plastered on my face, because internally I am losing my shit.

  The walls of this little room suddenly feel closer together than they ever have, if that’s even possible.

  I have Zane’s core files sitting on a terabyte drive hidden in a ripped cardboard box labeled “last year’s receipts.” They’re in the kitchen at my shop.

  I hear my heartbeat in my ears.

  I was sure they were old files belonging to Maxwell. Maybe something about money. If that were the case I would have handed them over—an easy cut and run. Maybe Maxwell would cancel the hit and I could get away again. This time, I would make sure I was never found.

  But it’s Zane. I can’t let his program see the light of day. Without Jessa, Zane can be turned into a weapon, and if word got out it wasn’t destroyed, chaos would break out. It wouldn’t just be three hitmen. It would be entire crime families, governments, terrorists, and, yes, even Michael and his team. One of the last things Jessa did was initiate self-destruct on Zane’s program. How it ended up on my phone, I have no idea. But I won’t let her death be in vain.

  “Dana. Did you hear me?” Michael startles me.

  “Yeah. Um—it’s a good thing it’s gone then.” For a moment, a brief second, I want to come clean. But, like the guys at Dale’s with Stan’s death, this information would change everything. No one should have Zane but its creator, and that ship has sunk.

  “Look, Dana, we’re staying here tonight, but you need to know we’re moving out the next day, maybe two. Tomorrow, we have a couple of things to check out around town. You’ll be moved to our cabin once we’re sure it’s secure. We’ll try to find a way for you to say your goodbyes and tie things up, but I’m afraid you can’t go back to your store. It’s too dangerous. For now, we need to get some rest.” Jack looks exhausted.

  “I don’t have much space.” I point to the single bed in the corner of the room.

  “It’s fine, Dana. You take the bed. Grizz will take the couch. I call dibs on the SUV.”

  Grizz groans beside me. We both know this couch is as hard as a rock. I’ve only been sitting on it for ten minutes, and my bottom is going numb.

  “What if someone attacks us in the middle of the night? Are you sure you want to sleep in a car?” I stand, clearing the animal crackers from the table as my stomach growls. I walk into the kitchen to pour two mugs of tea, then grab my to-go container out of the cupboard for Jack as he answers me.

  “It’s doubtful. Your place isn’t linked to you, and no one followed us out here. It appears the first shooter panicked. It worked in our favor, because no one else seems to be ready. Regardless, we swept the perimeter and set up some traps. We’ll be notified if someone is on your property. Besides, our car has bulletproof glass and soft leather seats that go all the way back. I’ll be fine. Thanks for this.” Holding up the thermos, Jack takes a sip. He places a couple of the items from the table back in the duffel before flinging it over his shoulder. “Good night, Dana. Grizz.” They exchange a nod and Jack leaves, ending our conversation.

  The soft hum of the only light in the room buzzes around us.

  Seeing Michael and Jack again reminds me of Jessa. It was only a year ago that I still had her with me. The closest thing to a family, a sister. My top lip quivers at the memory, and I try to push it down.

  “I’ll lock up. The bathroom is through there.” Picking up the same padlock I used for the front door, I close the latch on the inside and hook it into place. I don’t need to look to know Michael is watching me. The little hairs on the back of my neck are uncomfortably stiff.

  I know what they’re thinking. Even the cell I was in on their base was nicer than this. I was happy here though, until they came, reminding me of everything I lost. Now this place has lost its appeal. I no longer see my quaint abode, nestled in the mountains. I see a broken-down shack; off-grid hiding at its finest. Because that’s what I’ve been doing this past year—hiding. Not living, just existing.

  Heavy footsteps behind me lead into the bathroom, and I breathe a sigh of relief that Michael isn’t putting his thoughts into words.

  Removing my jacket, I open my small closet and pull out an old sweatshirt I picked up in a thrift store one town over and put it on. The days are still beautiful here, but the nights get chilly.

  By the time Michael comes out of the bathroom, the flame has died down and I’m almost done with my tea. The fire will still burn slowly through the logs, warming up the cabin overnight.

  I meet Michael in front of the couch with a blanket. His features have softened a bit. At least he isn’t clenching his jaw like he was before. Muttering his thanks, he wastes no time opening the blanket and getting himself comfortable. I walk to the front and turn off the light, leaving only a glow from the fire to light my way to bed.

  It takes me a few good tosses before I decide to lie on my back, glancing upward. Grizz groans a couple of times from his spot as he gets comfortable.

  With everything going on tonight, I should be exhausted, but my eyes won’t close. His breathing is rhythmic, smooth—soothing, and it leaves me alone with my thoughts.

  “Why do they call you Grizz?” I ask into the darkness.

  “Go to sleep, Dana.” His voice is low, but there’s no question: it’s an order.

  “Okay. Goodnight, Michael.” Hearing my own voice in this cabin is odd. I’ve never had anyone here overnight, so I’ve never had anyone to talk to. I’ve never heard my own voice in the darkness like this.

  “Goodnight.”

  The logs crackle a couple of times as I lie still, watching the glowing light from the fireplace dance across the ceiling.

  I’m alone, by myself, off-grid, and the people i
n town call me Kim. There are still three people trying to kill me. This broken-down shack may as well be my tomb. If I don’t make it out of here, there will be no one left to mourn Dana. A lump forms in my throat at the thought.

  My father is in jail, but that isn’t even the sad part. The pathetic kicker is, he was never a dad to me. Jessa’s dad acted more like a father than he ever did. My mother is remarried. I haven’t checked on her in over a year, so she just moved on. She knows how to reach me if she really needs to, but she hasn’t. The only family I belonged to are all dead and gone. I’m alone and fighting for my own survival, and I’m not sure there is a point in fighting anymore.

  My chest heaves on its own as the emotions float to the surface. I take a deep, shuddering breath as I try to settle myself before I wake Michael up.

  “Dana, are you okay?” The dark mass that is his body doesn’t move in the dim cabin, and I freeze for a moment before I answer him.

  I clear my throat in a cough. “I’m good. Just dry in here.” My voice isn’t as convincing as I would have wanted it, but Michael doesn’t push it.

  Pulling my own sheets up to my eyes, I wipe the tears away and try to even out my own breathing. I’m thankful for the cover of night.

  My mind keeps wandering around, bouncing through the years, from our high school days to the times Jessa and I were on our own. This isn’t the life I wanted, for either of us, and my emotions rise up again.

  “…after my father.” Michael is halfway through his sentence before his voice pulls me out of my downward spiral.

  “Pardon me?” I speak toward the ceiling, and Michael sighs.

  “Grizz. I’m named after my father. It was what his coworkers called him because of his burly size.” Without being able to see him, I am more attuned to his voice. He hesitates on his words, and it isn’t lost on me that he is speaking in the past tense.

  “Oh.” I weigh asking a follow-up question but decide against it. He’s probably trying to get me to close my eyes and do as I’m told, so I stay silent, but he doesn’t.