Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
The distant sound of traffic—ordinary people living ordinary lives—was surreal after what I'd witnessed.
I wasn't free yet.
This building was one among several in the compound. I needed to navigate the loading dock and back alleys without detection. My heartbeat thundered as I darted through alleys, sneakers slapping against wet concrete. The recent rain had left puddles that reflected the streetlights, creating twice as many sources of illumination to avoid.
The area was a labyrinth of twists and turns, but I'd spent countless hours dragging garbage through these same passages. I knew my way.
That meant I also knew where the guards stationed themselves.
With Pavel conducting business tonight, who knew if the regular guards remained or if additional men patrolled?
Jimmy might have been given the night off, replaced by some eager distant Ivanov cousin ready to prove himself. I passed the first guard station at the junction of three alleys. This area, which served as my garbage drop-off point, was wider and more open, making me vulnerable now. The overhead security light cast harsh shadows that seemed to move like living things.
Jimmy's station stood empty.
He normally sat in his booth every night regardless of the weather, listening to audiobooks until he spotted me, then helped with the larger trash bags. Jimmy never missed shifts, because he was saving for his son's college.
His absence confirmed my suspicion—none of the regular guards remained.
Relief surged through me, offering a taste of hope.
My thoughts turned to where I'd go after my escape.
I couldn't return to my apartment. It wouldn’t take long for them to learn my real address and then that would be the first place they'd look.
My grandmother's nursing home was too obvious as well.
I needed somewhere temporary, just for the rest of the night.
Marcy from the club might let me crash on her couch.
Or maybe that shelter downtown that didn't ask questions.
My steps lightened as I pushed harder, ignoring my protesting thighs.
One more turn and I'd reach the main street with its businesses and steady traffic flow, busy even at this hour.
One more turn to freedom.
Nearly tasting liberty, I rounded the sharp corner, only to barely avoid colliding with an unfamiliar guard, a massive gun strapped to his chest.
Before he could react, I raised my weapon.
It trembled in my hand, but I aimed directly at his head.
My finger moved to the trigger, applying just enough pressure to feel the resistance. For a heartbeat, I saw myself pulling it, saw his head exploding like the man Pavel had killed. The image sickened me, yet something dark inside me whispered it might be necessary.
"Move," I said through gritted teeth. "Or I swear to God I'll shoot."
The guard hesitated, his eyes assessing whether I was capable of murder.
I cocked the hammer, the metallic click echoing between the buildings.
He raised his hands and stepped aside.
"You won't get far," he snarled, his accent thicker than Pavel's. "He owns this city."
I didn't respond.
No reason to. We both knew he was probably right.
I took two giant steps sideways, circling him and leaving plenty of distance between us. I couldn't risk getting close enough for him to seize the gun.
His eyes darted between my face and the weapon repeatedly.
I read his thoughts clearly.
He viewed me as a coward, a pathetic, lost girl. He doubted I would pull the trigger. He believed he could easily overpower me.
Radio static crackled. Pavel's voice cut in over the line: “Goddammit. Who the fuck has eyes on her?”
We both glanced at the radio clipped to his belt.
I raised the gun a few inches even as he lowered his hand toward his radio.
Testing me.
Calling my bluff.
Dammit. He was right. I couldn’t shoot.
Instead I ran.
Ran with everything I had.
I pushed hard, my lungs burning with each breath.
The guard shouted behind me, but I sprinted with every ounce of strength I possessed.
I ran as though chased by the devil himself...because I was.
I reached the main road just as a bus stopped less than a block away.
I waved frantically, shouting for the driver to wait as I flew down the sidewalk.
By some miracle, I managed to board just as the doors slid closed behind me. Panting a bit to catch my breath from the mad dash down the street, I swept my arm behind me to hide the gun from the driver as I reached into my back pocket for my Metro pass. I’d learned the hard way after getting mugged a few years ago to keep it and my apartment keys on me and leave my wallet at home on these overnight shifts.
Swiping my card, I kept my body angled away from the few bleary-eyed passengers as I stepped down the narrow aisle before collapsing into the first empty seat.
I tucked the gun between my thigh and the seat.
No one looked twice at me—nothing to see, just another late-night worker heading home.