The other men have their weapons raised, a mix of AR-15 rifles, some AK-47s, and even an Uzi. No one can say we aren’t well armed.
Footsteps to my left have me whipping around, weapon raised, but it’s just Jack and his men coming quietly through the bushes toward us.
He reaches me and jerks his chin in a silent greeting.
I whisper, “No sound at all from inside.”
He turns to two of his men who are carrying Uzis, too, and indicates them to keep their weapons focused on the door as he approaches. I keep in lockstep with him as we near the large double doors, which are secured in the middle by a lock, which is hanging open.
That uneasy sensation flips in my stomach again.
Something is wrong here. From the lack of fencing, the overall lack of security, to the open door, none of this sits right with me.
I shoot Jack a look and can tell by the way his eyebrows draw together that he’s had the same thoughts. Is this a trap?
But we’re still heavily armed men, and if there’s even the slightest possibility Camile is inside, then we’re taking the risk. I picture her bound and gagged and praying for us to save her. There’s no way we can turn away now.
Jack presses his ear against the door and, after a long beat, shakes his head to indicate he hasn’t heard anything. Carefully, he unhooks the open padlock and pulls open the latch.
He holds three fingers up and grabs the door’s old-fashioned metal handles. It won’t open, of that I’m sure,and we’re going to have to kick it in. I press my shoulder to the wood, fully prepared to add my body weight.
Jack counts down on his fingers—three, two, one—and after another beat closes his fist, to signalgo, and shoves open the doors.
It flies open with ease, and because I was leaning against it, I stumble in and almost land on my face. Jack is right behind me, and he pulls a flashlight from his back pocket. He turns it on and holds it aloft as he moves around. The bright white strobe highlights nothing but empty space.
My heart sinks. What the fuck? This can’t be right.She must be here.
But it’s just cobweb-filled emptiness. There are gas cans in the corners, some paint pots along the far shelves, and a chair in the middle of the room, which I bet they use for their torture sessions, but there’s no one sitting in it.
No Camile.
I should be relieved, but I’m fucking gutted. I was sure this was the place, and now we’re as far away as ever from finding her.
Rook isn’t here either.
A tightness settles in my chest, making it hard to breathe. Sudden certainty hits me with the full force of its weight. She’s not on the compound; I can feel it in my bones.
“We’ve got the wrong place entirely,” I say quietly. “I don’t think they have her here with them.”
Jack turns to me, his brows raised. “We don’t know that. She could be anywhere on this compound. She could be in the clubhouse right now or being held in one of the houses. We need to search the entire territory.”
“To do that means we’re going to have to bust into their clubhouse and hold the whole club hostage,” Big Mike says as he walks up behind us.
Mike is a good guy, and he’s got a sensible head on his shoulders, and, despite my desperation to get Camile back, I think he’s right. This could go very wrong. If we become embroiled in a heavy, messy battle with the Revenants and Camile isn’t here, we waste precious time finding her. But how the hell do we find her?
I hang my head, staring at the floor, self-hatred eating me up. I got it wrong, and I failed her. If we don’t find her in time, it’s on me. I truly believed this was the best bet we had.
Jack turns off the flashlight as we walk out of the outbuilding and to the group of men still standing outside, weapons raised, on guard for any incoming men.
“It’s a fucking bust,” Jack says.
Taking his phone from his pocket, he fires off texts that I know will be going to the leaders of the two other groups, then stares off into the distance a muscle in his jaw working as he thinks.
“What’s the plan, Prez?” I ask.
“If we try to take this compound, it could take us hours and involve us in a long and bloody battle,” he says. “Which is worth it if Camile is here, but if we’ve got this wrong … if it’s not the Revenants…”
“Itisthe Revenants,” I argue. The Numbnuts told us as much when we went back and questioned them again, using some heavy persuasion techniques. And their messages to some of the Revenants members were what gave us the link in the first place. “I just don’t think they have her on their patch.”
