The men grew quiet, each lost in his own thoughts.
Over the past two days, Rebel had become obsessed over Honor’s bizarre trance and bible mutterings. After searching online, he’d found a verse about wrath and vengeance.
“I need your help,” Rebel said.
“This rescue mission isn’t enough?” Hawk’s sarcasm made Rebel smile.
“When Krause—Harvey Whitaker—got arrested for drug possession, Honor stayed with Brit. After I got home from questioning him, I found Honor huddled in the corner by the window.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“She was in some kind of trance, muttering something over and over. Sounded like a Bible verse. I searched, got a hit. Romans twelve, verse nineteen.”
“The one about vengeance?”
“That’s the one” Rebel pulled it up on his phone. “Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.”
In the dark craft, the men exchanged glances.
“The verse is saying thatGodwill seek vengeance,” Hawk said. “Not for people to do it.”
“Right, but she’s been a victim her entire life. First, she’s forced to live in a doomsday cult, then she gets sent off to a school where’s she’s bullied.”
“Where are you going with this?” Hawk asked.
“I think she’s done being the victim. She’s saying that vengeance ishers.”
“Who’s she getting revenge on?”
“Everyone,” Rebel bit out. “Everyone who hurt her.”
Britain
A helicopter roared overhead,then faded into the night.
Even so, a flicker of hope had Brit squeezing Addison’s hand. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes, but I’m trying to come up with a plan for getting us out,” Addison replied.
“We need to get that assault rifle,” Brit whispered.
“And the Glock from her.”
Honor stood at the edge of the stage, ripped out a blank page and dropped it. Then, she tore out another, letting it fall from her fingers. Brit grew hopeful. Tearing out pages at that snail’s pace would eat up a lot of time.
Please, please be the rescue team.
Then, Honor ripped out a chunk of paper and flung it into the crowd. “Chant about that.” Then, her expression softened. “You’re like little lambs being led to the slaughter. I don’t fault you. You’re brainwashed. You can’t think for yourselves. You did what he—” she pointed at Craig—told you.” She yanked out more paper and more paper before dropping the book on stage.
She yanked the gun from her waist, pointed it at Brit.
“Oh, no,” Addison murmured.
Honor clasped Jordan’s hand, glanced over at him. “I love you so freakin’ much.”
“I’m crazy about you too,” Jordan replied. “I can’t wait until we’re thousands of miles away, and I can make love to you for days and days.”
Gross.
