Page 26 of Sadist

“Fucking idiots,” I murmured, passing a hand over the Glock hidden at my hip to reassure myself of its presence. We were in an abandoned parking lot under a bustling motorway bridge, the noise being the first problem. Down the far end was what looked to be a makeshift settlement of tents and cardboard lean-tos, with disheveled inhabitants who eyed me warily as I got out of the car and scoped out the area.

There was an abandoned apartment complex directly across from us, a black cat sitting on the crumbling brick fence around it. That building alone had a dozen dark, empty windows I was uncomfortable with.

An empty can clattered and a fire sparked as I turned to see one of the vagrants poking at a drum that a few more werestanding around, warming their hands and whispering amongst themselves.

Don’t try it,I mentally warned a burly-looking person who was showing far too much interest in the blacked-out windows of my Jeep.

Seconds later, Zichen’s sleek grey car pulled up, and O’Malley stepped out with a narrowed-eyed look.

“You bring her?”

“Back seat,” I said acidly as Zichen and a man I guessed was Vanguard’s tech guy emerged as well. O’Malley went to move toward my car, and I stepped in his way, a hand on my gun.

“He needs eyes on her,” he grunted.

I ignored him, instead pointing at the third guy.

“You. Come here.”

“You’re not swinging orders here, Lancaster,” Zichen interjected. “O’Malley, get her out.”

I tilted my head to look up at O’Malley, pleased to see he looked more than a little disconcerted as his eyes went from me to the car, and back again.

“You can open the door and let him take a look at her. Leave the hood on, those vagrants are showing far too much interest.”

O’Malley lumbered past me as I turned my attention to Vanguard’s man. He was a pale, gaunt-looking creature with a sheen of sweat across his brow. He was shifting nervously from foot to foot, looking everywhere but toward my car.

“Tell me you searched him, Zichen?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the man.

“He did,” Vanguard’s man answered, a faint shake to his voice. “Twice.” He swiped at his forehead, leaning to look past me into the open car, his face losing color by the second.

“Miss Vanguard?” he called, a noticeable shake to his voice now.

“Yes!” a small voice called back.

The man nodded once. He was breathing heavily, and I frowned, the hairs on my arms rising as I reached for the gun at my hip.

“Zichen,” I warned.

Vanguard’s man whistled suddenly, and the world exploded.

I was thrown violently to the side, debris pelting me. Something slammed against my shoulder, and then I hit the ground, my skin scraping across concrete as my nose and eyes filled with dust.

Car alarms were going off, someone was screaming, and the sound of metal grinding on metal and terrified shouts filtered through the chaos.

My ears were ringing, my body screaming in multiple places as I hauled myself to my hands and knees, shaking my head to try to clear it.

I stood, my head taking a moment to catch up as the dust began to settle, and I got my first look at what had happened.

Part of the bridge had collapsed. Half a dozen cars had come down with it, with broken slabs of concrete and rubble filling the parking lot. Civilians caught up in the explosion were trying to get out of crumpled cars, other cars half buried under concrete slabs, while a horn blared in an unending scream as I tried to orient myself.

There was something warm and sticky running down the back of my neck, my head swam alarmingly, and I coughed up the dust clogging my lungs.

Where the fuck is my car?

I staggered forward, moving in the direction I thought it should be.

“Lancaster!” O’Malley was leaning heavily against a large chunk of concrete, rubbing at his streaming eyes.

---