The Infected’s black eyes bore a hole into the guard, and it let out a raspy yowl—the air from its mouth blew the strands ofhair around the man’s ears. The guard was cemented in place by terror, so Nick drove his knife into the creature’s neck. The Infected’s hand slipped from the guard’s raised arm and it fell in a heap on the ground.
The plagued creatures lay under the cloak of death, no longer posing a threat to the warehouse. Nick readied a question on the tip of his tongue, wanting affirmation that the guards involved were unharmed. Before he could speak, a gunshot sounded off from the edge of the woods. Worried that more guards were engaged in a struggle, the men took off toward the sound.
Nick’s legs carried him effortlessly across the field surrounding the warehouse, and he had to remind himself to slow down. He matched the other men’s paces, not making a show of his superhuman speed. At the treeline, a figure leaned over something in the dirt. Closing in, Nick recognized it was Luke.
Luke stood with his pistol relaxed in his hand. The thing he stood over was a slumped body, face down on the ground. An exit wound from a bullet left a burnt hole in the back of its head. At first, Nick assumed it was an Infected that had trailed in after the others—late to the party.
“Caught this fucker creeping around the property. Probably led the Laughers straight to us,” Luke explained. Luke tipped the toe of his boot into the body and pushed it over. The corpse lay face up, eyes painted wide in its last expression of death.
Nick clenched his jaw and fought off the urge to drop to his knees. Every section in Nick’s brain became dedicated to regulating his breathing and controlling his reactions. The body on the ground belonged to a boy, just barely a man with skin of an olive hue. Someone Nick knew. Someone who was now dead because of him.
Chapter 46
With Phoenix’s body slung over his shoulder, Nick walked beside Luke and the guards back toward the warehouse. Waves of emotions were pummeling into Nick, so he clenched his teeth, walked with purpose, and tried to empty his brain of thoughts.
He was thankful, once again, for the mask that kept his flared nostrils and tight-set lips covered.
If Derek was a bag of feathers, Phoenix weighed as much as the sack they were carried in. The boy was wiry and only a bit taller than Kate—probably had not even finished growing yet.
The group passed by the warehouse until they were at the burn pile where Travis’s ashes still rested between the logs. Nick hoisted Phoenix atop the remains, and a guard lit the pyre.
The flames consumed Phoenix’s clothing right away, then lapped at the boy’s flesh until it began to melt. Nick watched as the person whose death he caused became one with another he killed. The fingers hidden beneath the leather gloves twitched, and his chest drew in breath in severe intervals.
Nick looked down at his hands. What was the inoculation doing to his body? Was he becoming a monster?
“What’s wrong, Alex? Got blood on your gloves?” Luke’s voice drifted to him from across the fire. Nick wiped his hands on his pant legs to confirm Luke’s assumption and nodded.
“What do we know about this kid?” one of the guards asked.
“We know fuck all. Probably just passing through, but we can’t take any chances,” Luke said. “Alright, enough chit-chat. Time to load up the captives and head out.”
Just in case Nick thought there was nothing to peel him away from the torturous knowledge of getting his friend killed, the reminder that he would soon deliver the woman he loved into unknown enemy hands proved him wrong.
Nick turned his back on Phoenix’s charred corpse and followed the men inside the warehouse. Loading the captives was uneventful. Kate maintained a quiet determination as Nick led her down the hallway and into one of the vans. He sat Avery beside her.
“Kate, you said you would get us out of here. Please, don’t let them do this!” Avery pleaded to her in a hushed tone. Another guard was approaching with an older woman, one hand binding her wrists behind her back.
“Hey! No talking,” Nick admonished. Avery’s mouth dropped open, astonished and hurt. Kate squeezed her hand and impressed a knowing look onto her. Avery settled back in the seat and sighed.
Nick assisted with loading the captives into two vans, then took his place in the passenger seat of the one that contained Kate. As the driver navigated the roads and stayed close behind the other group, Nick kept his gaze forward-facing. The rifle in his hand felt like the only thing keeping him grounded, his only anchor tethering him to the present.
This was the start of a new objective, and he would not let the past events blur his motivation. There was not enough space in his heart to focus on both his misdeeds and the mission at hand. The lives he had claimed would have to fall away and play their phantom role somewhere else.
The gravel beneath the tires as they traveled down the road was the only sound. The silence was louder. The captives within the van were drifting from one hellish moment to the next. The air was thick with the scent of their fear. It should have affected Nick. There should have been some determination on an emotional level to free them from this inhumane fate.
There was only the dust on the gravel road, the rifle in his hand, and his love for Kate readying his limbs for battle.
The van approached a gate where an armed guard stood. The driver slowed to a stop and rolled down the window. A conversation ensued that had likely taken place a dozen or more times since the start of the operation. The driver confirmed they were delivering another group of captives for Margot. The gate guard glanced into the van, eyes passing across each passenger. Then, he unlocked the gate and waved the vehicle in.
Luke’s men pulled the captives from the vans one by one and lined them up in front of a massive, three-story manor. The opulent home loomed over them as they stood in a circular cobblestone driveway. Margot’s men lined the cobblestones with rifles ready as Nick and his group positioned the captives in a depraved exhibit.
Margot passed by each person slowly as they stood in a line. Luke’s guards were stationed not far behind, awaiting Margot’s approval. The lean, wiry woman strode by each person, looking them up and down with bitter, judgmental appraisal.
Kate had been placed at the beginning of the line. Margot had already passed her by, not spending much time on her. Nickstood a couple of feet behind her, his arms behind his back and standing at attention as he waited.
When Margot reached the end of the line, she fixated on Connie. The silver-haired woman shivered beneath her gaze, and her eyes were wide with terror.
“This one is too old. Dispose of her,” Margot ordered in a casual voice, and two guards moved toward the older woman.
