Rami recounts his thought process as Maya quickly makes small injections along the knots in my head. And maybe it’s whatever’s in that syringe, but Rami’s reasoning is sound.
By the time Maya’s finished examining me, my head feels fine—great, actually—and there’s no evidence of my kidnapping or the subsequent firefight, save for the piles of gravel and ash on the highway.
Ope, missed one. I point out the guy army-crawling toward the brush, both of his legs broken. Silas, who is terrifying in his dark sunglasses and tactical gear, takes aim with a sweeping motion, and the guy becomes a stripe of ash and chalk on the side of the road. Sy’s satisfied little grin doesn’t even crack the top three most fucked-up things that have transpired in the last twenty-four hours.
I send Holmes a pointed look, and he shakes his head. Just a guess, but convincing Silas to keep someone alive for questioning probably only works if you lethimdo the interrogating.
Two black helicopters, eerily silent, touch down in the field by the side of the highway. Four operatives pile out of the first helicopter and three set up a perimeter while the fourth, a Black woman with braided hair, approaches Anders and Holmes.
“We’ve got the highway closed a mile in either direction, but local law enforcement isn’t happy.”
“On it,” Holmes says, pointing to the serious-looking man with red hair and the dorky guy with glasses and a black canvas bag exiting the second helicopter. “As soon as Dexter gets what he needs, we’ll roll out.”
She gives him a serious nod, then takes a stance outside of the group, completing the perimeter.
“Dex!” Rami says, hugging the nerd. “Uncle Eddie!”
The redhead—Uncle Eddie, apparently—gives Rami a half-hug and sends a nod to everyone else. His mouth tightens when he sees Silas. Weird, since they give off the same serial killer energy, right down to the matching wraparound sunglasses.
“Given that the pistols, which have not been approved for field work, were, in fact, used in the field,” this Eddie guy says, pausing to glare at Sy, “Dexter wanted to see how they functioned.”
“Great,” Rami says enthusiastically, pointing to the pile of ash that was the van. “Took out the motherfuckers who kidnapped my boyfriend with extreme prejudice.”
Realizing what he said, Rami sends me a quick grimace. I mouthboyfriend?with a teasing wink. He takes my extended hand, and I draw him in close, whispering, “Pretty sure rescuing me from kidnappers is an automatic promotion to boyfriend.”
Rami flushes, and it’s pretty fucking adorable.
Meanwhile the nerd—Dexter—pulls a beaker from his black bag and starts scooping tiny piles of leftover body into it before saying as much as a hello. He pushes his glasses up his nose, frowning as he examines the contents in the light.
“The blast radius on these things is better, but the overall efficacy is nowhere near the tolerances we’re looking for,” he says, shaking his head as though disappointed in himself.
Gesturing to whatever the fuck it is he’s doing, Rami says, “I thought you worked in decomposition or something.”
“Yeah, I like to spend time out at the body farm, but…I get bored sometimes.” Dexter holds up his big cup o’ remains. “Besides, see how some of this is ash, and some of it’s sorta chalky and gravelly? That’s not how the guns are supposed to function. This should be all ash, just like you see with the rifles. Nobone fragments at all. Uncle Odd and I are going to have to go back to the drawing board.”
Maya snorts and leans into my shoulder, whispering, “Hint: talk to Dex about his experimental rockets, his forays into app creation, or his new sous vide equipment. Do not, under any circumstances, ask him questions about how the body decomposes. He will talk your ear offfor hoursabout the most horrifying shit.”
Rami nods, his expression grim. “And if you see him and Silas arguing over carbon dispersal, just walk away while your sanity is still intact. I promise you, they arenottalking about fossil fuels.”
“Rude,” Silas replies, not looking offended in the slightest.
I stare at Silas. “And what do you do?”
“I don’t think you want to know what I do at the Cave.”
“The Cave? What isthe Cave?”
Honoré puts his hand on my shoulder. “It’s our headquarters in Wimberley.”
“Do I wanna know why y’all call it the Cave?”Or why Hedy didn’t mention that little tid bit to me.
“It wouldn’t make your day any better.”
Dexter quickly finishes taking samples while Uncle Eddie and the dads have a heated discussion off to the side. Silas quietly collects the guns, placing them in a hard case before walking them over to the tense group.
Eddie snatches the case from Silas, who cracks his neck and steps back. Shit, that’s some serious beef. The kind where one wrong look would set off a chemical reaction. Just as I think they’re about to go full ignition, they retreat, peeling off in opposite directions.
Okayyyy.
