Messiahs, Matt Rogers [best 7 inch ereader TXT] 📗

and put everything he had into a body kick, using his shin like it was a murder weapon. He didn’t hold back.

He connected.

Shin slamming into abdomen.

Massive internal damage made the guy fold over and drop like he suddenly weighed four hundred pounds. The Glock spilled from his hand, and Slater snatched it up and aimed both of them akimbo-style at the last man’s face. He was still unarmed, fists still clenched, hands still shaking. The only difference was they were shaking with fear, not adrenaline.

Slater said, ‘Get back in your truck, go find the rest of your buddies, and tell them they have a very serious problem on their hands.’

The guy nodded, his face pale beneath the thick beard.

Slater said, ‘Tell them they should reconsider their approach.’

‘Yes, sir.’

A beat of quiet.

Slater tilted the weapons in a shrug. ‘What are you waiting for?’

The guy needed no further prompting.

He backed up, keeping his eyes on the barrels, ignoring his friends entirely. Two of them were returning from the depths of unconsciousness, and the other was rendered immobile on the ground, curled in the foetal position, clutching his stomach and riding out waves of unimaginable agony.

The last guy got back in his truck, slammed the door, and peeled away fast enough to make the tyres squeal in the night.

King said, ‘Thanks.’

Slater said, ‘Maybe you went too far.’

‘Of course not,’ King said. ‘I went far enough to make sure this happened.’

‘What if you didn’t alert me in time? How’d you know they’d come at this exact moment?’

‘Because I did,’ King said, brandishing the Mossberg. ‘And now we have guns.’

He tucked the Mossberg inside his jacket and Slater concealed the Glock 43s in his own waistband. They walked away from the scene before someone walked their dog past three crippled thugs and spotted the two culprits standing over them.

Slater said, ‘What’s the point? You really think they’ll let us bring arms into the commune?’

‘Of course,’ King said. ‘They’re going to beg for our help.’

‘Why?’

King laid it out. The movements, the sequences, the chain of events that would let them infiltrate Mother Libertas with minimal resistance.

Slater listened, digested, then said, ‘That’s banking on Alexis pulling it off perfectly.’

‘You don’t think she will?’

Slater smirked in the dark. ‘I think she’ll do whatever she needs to do. She might end up a better operative than the both of us before we call it a day.’

King went to say something, then stopped himself.

The Arbuckle Lodge loomed in the distance, its exterior lights bathing the surrounding area in warmth.

Slater said, ‘Say it.’

‘What?’

‘I know what you were going to say. So say it.’

King said, ‘When you met her, she had none of these abilities, and now she’s closer to Ruby Nazarian than anyone else you could have met.’

Slater smiled, which wasn’t what King was expecting. Any mention of Ruby in the past had brought up mixed emotions, a combination of regret and guilt, overlaid with a sad fondness.

Now he seemed at peace.

He said, ‘I know. Sometimes I worry I’m the one making her do this. But I’m so proud of her.’

‘She took the initiative on Grand Bahama,’ King said. ‘Without her going out on her own, we never would have found that logbook. We never would have found out about who Teddy really was.’

King could sense the pride radiating off Slater.

King said, ‘You got lucky meeting her.’

Slater said, ‘And you with Violetta.’

Now armed to the teeth, they snuck back into their room inside the lodge with newfound reassurance.

It felt good to be back in action.

25

The next morning, Alexis made her presence known.

She handed her location to any curious tails by stepping out of the Budget Inn first thing in the morning and covering a decent chunk of Gillette on foot. The sun hovered in a cloudless sky, adding a hint of warmth to the freezing air. She exhaled a cloud of breath, then set off east, passing auto shops and roadside takeout restaurants and a Ford dealership, all gleaming in the sunshine. Her surroundings were too industrial, too sparse and empty, so she veered north up South Burma Avenue and crossed the intersection separating Echeta Road and West 1st Street. She passed a hydraulics factory, a self-storage facility and a seemingly endless chain of warehouses on concrete lots until finally her surroundings became residential when she hit West Warlow Drive.

She turned east and walked a giant loop of Bicentennial Park, passing by a couple of high school sports teams conducting early morning training sessions, their soccer boots kicking up dewey condensation from the grass. Thoroughly warmed up now, she doubled back west, following the artery of Echeta Road. She passed a roadside drive-thru diner and ordered a bagel and a long black from the takeout window. The woman who served her was maybe fifty, plump, her face the texture of leather, her eyes kind.

She said, ‘I haven’t seen you before.’

Alexis said, ‘New in town. Just visiting.’

‘You like it so far?’

‘So far,’ Alexis said with a smile, accepting the steaming cup of coffee and the bagel wrapped in a paper bag.

She carried on west before finally turning north into a residential suburb and traipsing around until she hit a viewpoint called Overlook Park.

The park was aptly named.

The sun beat down on her face as she found a bench and sat down, taking some load off her feet after putting them to use for most of the morning. She found solace in looking out at the residential cul-de-sac and the prairie beyond. The hill sloped down past white houses with brown roofs sitting on freshly mowed lots and levelled out into the undulating grasslands that swept all the way to the horizon, so vast and so empty.

She enjoyed the weather, sipped the coffee, munched the bagel.

She and Violetta were early in their quest, and she figured the most important thing was making herself known to the residents of Gillette, spreading awareness of her presence through word of mouth. So she stayed on the park bench, and when the sun reached its peak