“Broken twins are like a broken mirror. Nothing but bad luck.”
I frown, trying to work out what he’s saying. “We’re not broken.”
His cackle is cut off by Foley and Booker joining us.
“Ziggy disappeared,” Foley reports. “No sign of a struggle.”
“A skilled hunter never leaves evidence behind.” Lynx turns and follows the kids into the forest, leaving me more unsettled than ever.
“He’s okay … right?” I must be desperate if I’m looking for comfort from a man who willingly earned a broken arm and another who excitedly fixed it.
“Of course,” Booker soothes, patting my chest and earning me a glare from Foley. “And if he’s not … I’m a doctor. I’ll put him back in one piece.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-NINE
ZIGGY
I’ve never run so hard in my life. I can’t tell if it’s sweat or rain running down my back, but I push harder, lungs burning, knowing I’m not meant for running, but I need to get home fast.
All I can hope is that my hunch is wrong, because the thought of someone being trapped alive?
My gut rolls over itself.
Maybe they’re a murderer, for all I know, but being boxed in, surrounded by nothing but darkness?
Shit.
My thighs burn as I jump from one boulder to the next, taking the most direct route up the hill. What if they’re injured? Or starving? Shit, even I’d be scared trapped like that.
The sight of my mine entrance brings relief and the motivation to move faster. I barrel inside, right up to the wall, and lungs struggling with my ragged breaths, I pound on the wood. No one answers.
“Hello?” My scratchy voice barely makes it past my lips. “Hello?”
Nothing. I hunch over my knees, forcing down oxygen and making my head spin. I’m wrong. I’mprobablywrong.
I set my hand on the wall, trying to work out which way to go. Tear it all down and hope I find something? Or wait to see if anyone begs to be let out before I destroy our hard work?
I almost give a panicked laugh at myself because waiting? No fucking way.
There’s no way I’ll be able to break through without help, but my home is devoid of tools, so I grab my keys and head out to the storage carriages. The rain has started, and I’m half-drenched by the time I reach them. The new locks haven’t been tampered with, and I let myself into the first one to grab an axe, then the next one for a flashlight and batteries.
Even in my rush, I lock up behind myself, then head back inside.
I really should have had Kennedy come with me. He’d make easy work of this wall, because while I’m good with my hands, I have the upper-body strength of a jellyfish.
Too late now. I pick up the axe and swing it as hard as I can. Stupid us building this stupid thing of hardwood. It’s lucky the axe is sharp as fuck, otherwise I’d be making no progress. I swing and hack and hammer my way through the wall until there’s a gap large enough to fit through.
I’m panting harder than I was when I got here, and I know I’ll pay for all this exertion later, but for now, I toss the axe aside, pick up the flashlight, and slip through the hole.
It’s cooler back here, the storm dulled slightly. My light bounces from wall to wall, revealing parts of my home I haven’t seen in a long time.
“Hello?” I whisper.
What sounds like a stuttered breath comes from the right, and I quickly turn in that direction. It only takes a second before my light finds a tear-streaked face.
Fuck.
