Page 26 of Butcher

There were cranes unloading different shipping containers, then loading new shit onto the different trains. It was so loud around here it was nearly vibrating my teeth.

“What?” Toxic yelled.

We all turned to glare at him.

“What?” he asked in a lower voice, shrugging.

“He’s the last one on the list,” Rip replied to Lock’s original statement. “If it’s not him, we’re going to have to get creative.”

“Who the fuck works in a rail yard?” Smoke asked, looking disgusted.

Hellfire gave him an incredulous look. “Plenty of people.” He pointed to the crane operator as an example.

“They have security, too,” Hush told him, eyes sweeping the place. “A little heavy really, considerin’ that it’s just a rail transfer point.”

My eyes hadn’t stopped moving since we came through the gate. There was so fucking much happening here, constant movement of the trains, cranes, and people as they hurried around doing their jobs. And there were high points everywhere. And the noise, you couldn’t bug the place or use any equipment to listen in, all you would hear was iron grating on iron. It was a logistical nightmare for us as we were trying to put safety first. Knowing there were people out there trying to kill you made you consider every corner or scaffolding a threat.

“You sure Randal Terry works here?” Priest asked, looking over at Riptide.

He just shrugged. “That’s what I found.”

“Alright,” Lock said. “Stick together. We’ll do our best to find him in this mess. If he runs, we’ll split up to cut him off, but otherwise don’t lose sight of each other. It’s too damn congested here to be losing each other.”

We started moving as a group, studying each person as we walked past. We had a grainy photo ofthisRandal to go off of, but it was enough for us. We still weren’t even sure if he was our man, but we were about to find out. I frowned as I watched one of the security guards spot us, then slink away. “That’s weird.”

Lock had already noticed. “Why wouldn’t they come question why we’re here?”

“One guard not doin’ his job is understandable,” Hush said by way of agreement, “but two?”

“Make that three,” Idaho added, watching as another man walked away.

“It’s a public space,” Ricochet replied, “but this is still weird.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I pulled my Glock out of the waistband of my pants. “Incoming.”

Dust and dirt exploded around us and we all dove in different directions for cover.

“Where’s it coming from?” Lock roared, trying to be heard over the sound of gunfire, the cranes, and the distance.

“Left hand side, two o’clock!” Priest shouted back.

There were two men standing near a small metal shed, guns raised, firing at us. One was in a security uniform.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered, ducking back behind cover then listening as a bullet whizzed by. “We’re surrounded.”

“Six o’clock!” Toxic hollered from beside me, letting everyone know there were more than just the two men. “It’s a fucking ambush,” he growled, pissed off that we were in this position.

I was, too. The last thing I wanted was to put my brothers in danger like this. Not for me. And this was all because of me. “Give me cover.”

Toxic nodded, then stepped around the train car we were hiding behind and started shooting.

I used his fire to run across the yard. If I could make my way around, I could come in behind the fuckers that were pinning Lock and Ricochet down. They were smart. They would both shoot, but one would do so at a slower rate, so that when his partner was reloading, there was still suppressive fire happening. These guys weren’t as stupid as some of the men Randal had sent for me. And there was a fuck ton of them.

They keep crawling out of the woodworks.

The thought no sooner crossed my mind when I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. “Fuck!”

The metal bucket hit me hard, sending me tumbling ass over head into the dirt. The crane operator got out of the machine, a huge smile on his face as he hopped down to the ground and approached, gun in hand.

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