He ignored my question and glanced over at Hobson in the passenger seat—tied up and blindfolded. “What is this, Thatch? Dunk didn’t say nothing about kidnapping.”
I tied Hobson back up at the last gas stop. “Dunk knows.”
“Well, he didn’t say nothing to me. I don’t like any of this.”
Stella groaned from the back seat.
Reid leaned in a little closer. “That her?”
I didn’t answer.
“What’s wrong with her?”
It was my turn to ignore his question. “Where is he?”
Reid took a step back from the SUV and pointed the barrel of his assault rifle back toward the old steel mill. “Park where we did a few weeks ago, at Blast Furnace #7. He’s inside.”
I put the SUV back into gear and followed the overgrown road toward the large metal monstrosity.
I parked in nearly the same place we had the last time and shut down the engine.
Preacher pulled up beside me and did the same. He stepped out of the SUV and surveyed the buildings, the catwalks, the men slowly pacing back and forth along all of it, their eyes on the surrounding fields. He said softly, “Are you sure about this?”
“Nope.”
A girl, no more than sixteen or seventeen, walked up from the side of the brick building. Like Reid, she carried an AR-15. Unlike Reid, both her arms and half her neck were covered in colorful tattoos of snakes. The mouth of a cobra opened below her chin, ready to strike. She said something into a small Motorola radio before dropping it into the pocket of her green army jacket. “I’m Adella Fricke. Follow me.”
“Where’s Dunk?”
“In a few minutes. We need to get you settled first.” She glanced back at Stella. “Bring her. The others, too.”
Preacher looked at me, uncertain. I could only nod.
Adella led us through the brick building, out the other side, and down a long, wide hallway. Rusty water dripped from the ceiling and puddled on the floor. The walls glistened with it. Machinery long ago abandoned slept in every corner, left to die years ago. The men and women who worked for Dunk—gang members, runaways, homeless—I didn’t really know how to describe them. They watched us silently as we passed. Twenty, thirty, probably more. They were everywhere. The youngest looked no more than twelve or thirteen, and the oldest I spotted—a man wearing faded coveralls—might have been in his late fifties.
We took a set of stairs up to the second level, then followed a catwalk under a sign that simply read BARRACKS. Stella’s arm was over my shoulder, and although she wasn’t quite awake, she was able to walk on her own. The long walk was still exhausting, though. I was grateful when we entered a large room lined with bunk beds on the outer walls and tables in the middle—she hadn’t spoken in over a day. Her breathing was horribly labored, and sweat openly trickled from her pores. I settled her into one of the beds near the back, and she curled up facing the wall.
Preacher set Hobson down in a chair at one of the tables. Still blindfolded, the man did not move.
Cammie helped Darby into another open bunk. The little girl’s eyes were half shut, fighting sleep. She was out the moment her head hit the pillow. Cammie sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair. My father collapsed into a bunk of his own. The bruising on his face thickened into a nasty shade of purple. He grunted and rolled onto his side, off his damaged ribs.
Adella said, “Come with me. I’ll take you to him.”
When Preacher started to follow, she stopped at the door without turning around. “Just Thatch.”
“No way,” Preacher said. “I’m still not sure we’re staying.”
Cammie looked up at me. “Take him with you. The second pair of eyes will do you good.”
Adella started down the hall. “Whatever, just hurry up.”
Ten days ago, when I visited Dunk in this place, I got the impression he and his people simply took it over for the day. Camped out at that first building and cleared out shortly after I left. As Adella walked us deeper into the mill, I realized that wasn’t the case at all. Dunk set up shop here. He ran his business from this place. He ran his business with a small army.
Everyone was armed.
Most had more than one gun.
I thought about what Brier and Detective Horton had told me all those years ago in the hospital. They had no idea how large this had all become.
