Page 40 of Burn

Did that mean that Voodoo was out there while I was in here with these two?

Where was the fifth man?

“Clear,” the fourth man said.

“Body,” was the third man’s response. “Tobin. Throat slit. He’s dead.”

I was glad I’d kept my hand over my mouth or I might have let out another cry. Voodoo had been in here. The man who came in went down without a sound. That was creepy and terrifying and utterly badass.

Badass only because Voodoo was on my side. A new set of captors or not, so far they hadn’t tried to hurt me. I also didn’t think someone planning to keep me prisoner would offer to let me use a gun.

“Karl is likely dead then as well.” Give the fourth man a cookie. Nothing got past him.

“Take the ladder,” the third man said. “I will cover you.”

“What if they are right up there?” The fourth man made a disgusting sound to clear his throat before he spit. “You climb up the ladder. I’ll cover you.”

“Climb, or I will shoot you.”

Silence followed the threat. I suppressed the urge to cough as a violent tickle assaulted the back of my throat. I needed to be still. Now was not the time to shout, cry, cough, or draw any attention to myself.

I could hold position in a pose for an hour if necessary. Wouldn’t cough. I refused to cough. My eyes watered from the effort. Then the fourth man swore.

“I’m climbing.”

I moved the taser up closer to me. The heavy steps against the ladder seemed to vibrate. The feeling carried through the wood. It added another layer to the dread curling through me as my nose began to itch.

The desire to sneeze weighed heavily in my face. The watery film over my eyes made the world waver. I had a firm grip on the taser and I stared intently at the ladder.

“Hurry up,” the third man said. “We don’t have all day.”

“You want to go faster,” the fourth man snarled back. “Do it yourself.” Then he added something under his breath, but there he was, head clearing the top of the ladder.

Only he wasn’t looking at me at all.

On my knees I lunged forward and put the taser right against his arm. He snapped his head around and our gazes locked as I pressed the button.

His whole body convulsed. The shaking wracked him and his hand seemed locked on the ladder until I pulled the taser back. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell backwards off the ladder.

A sneeze ripped out of me and I wanted to cry as the third man swore. He fired and a bullet slammed into one of the wooden cross beams overhead.

“I know you’re up there,” the third man called. “Come down, now.”

Did he really think that would work? I rubbed a hand against my face, trying to get the dust away from my nose. The watery eyes didn’t improve, but I continued to hug the loft floor. The scatter of straw up here seemed to suggest it had once been used for hay storage.

“Come down,” the third man snarled. Then a soft thud sounded. “I know you’re there.” Only he didn’t sound so certain this time.

His breathing grew harsher. More intense. Another couple of steps, then he hit something against the ladder.

“If you make me come up there—” He didn’t finish the sentence, instead he let out a hard grunting. Then something slammed into the ladder. A gun went off.

One shot.

Two.

Three.

One of the bullets smashed into the beam overhead again, but I didn’t see the other two. Lower grunting, then an agonized sound as bone snapped.

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