Page 867 of Coal Hearts

“Sounds like something he would do.”

“Then get here quick. We’re running out of time.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

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Henri

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SUNSHINE GILDED THE WINERY, revealing the glittering frost on the ground.

The vines were winterised. Sleeping until spring. The rows neat and barren, revealing a path toward the sprawling villa at the top of the hill.

Terraced gardens and rock walls cut the gardens into different zones. One with a gazebo, and another with a swing set, the rolling lawn surrounding a covered swimming pool.

The estate didn’t have fences like the last one, but it did have its own defence.

Wide-open space.

With the vines leafless, I had no coverage.

With the sun climbing up the sky, I didn’t have the darkness to hide in.

I should wait until tonight.

I should go sleep in some barn and eat at a local eatery.

But...

I glanced at my leg.

The drive had taken longer because I’d had to stop and use my belt as a tourniquet. The bleeding had slowed but frustrating numbness crawled down my leg. My foot was dead and I’d grown acquainted with the light-headedness of blood loss all over again.

I didn’t have the luxury of waiting for tonight.

If I wanted to take out the rest of these monsters, I had to do it now.

And then, I can finally sleep.

I sighed and rested my head on the steering wheel.

Christ, that sounded good.

So unbelievably good.

Just another hour or so and I would be free.

Let’s do this, then.

Gathering all my strength, I tightened the black t-shirt I’d wrapped around my bitten arm and hauled my very dead, very heavy carcass out of the car. I’d tucked the ostentatious Lamborghini behind a farmer’s lichen-covered wall.

I’d have a long walk.

Going to the trunk at the front of the car, I popped it open and dressed myself in every weapon I’d stolen.

Automatic rifles slung over my shoulders, pistols hooked into my waistband. Even a grenade I’d found in one sick fuck’s den dropped into my pocket.