Page 57 of Hidden By the Convicts
“You’re going to kill him, you asshole!” Harlis shouted.
“Don’t hurt him,” she said, her voice barely a squeak as she stepped out from the rocks. Her entire body shook, but she forced herself to move, to save Gavin and Harlis. One foot at a time, she dragged herself over the rocks.
Gavin’s eyes met hers. Mozely had cut his cheek down to his jaw and then his neck. He had never once cried out. He would have let Mozely kill him just to protect her.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Gavin, knowing he’d be disappointed in her.
His lips moved, but he said nothing. She realized he was mouthing the words ‘I love you’ even as Mozely threw him to the ground and grabbed her by her hair.
“One fucking month I’ve been looking for you, bitch. You’re going to pay for what you did to me.”
That was the last she saw of her guys, as Mozely tied her hands behind her and dragged her back to the guards’ barracks.
Chapter Fourteen
BOWEN
As hard as it was, Bowen sat on top of the harvester like he didn’t have a care in the world even though his stomach twisted and he felt sick beyond measure. He couldn’t remember when he last ate or slept more than an hour at a shot.
The day was sunny, more humid than usual, which meant it would likely rain this afternoon. Normally, he’d be rushing to get the harvesters in and under cover before the fields became too muddy and the equipment got stuck.
Harlis climbed up beside him. The kid didn’t say anything for once. No one was talking much. It had been three days since Mozely had taken Teagen. Gavin’s wounds were healing, but the man had fallen into a depression, blaming himself for what had always been inevitable. They couldn’t hide her forever, not without keeping her a prisoner in the house. And they all wanted more for her. So much more.
“Where did you put the bombs?” Bowen asked.
“Everywhere except the guards’ barracks. Ironic, huh? The one place that deserves to be blown up. But I don’t want to risk her if she’s still alive.”
“She’s still alive,” Bowen said through clenched teeth.
“How do you know?”
“Because she has to be.”
“Cragin is coming down the hill,” Harlis said as he jumped off the harvester.
It was about time East Side’s manager showed up.
“You, Bowen. Get these harvesters in the fields. Now,” Manager Cragin ordered. Flanked by three guards, the man looked mad enough to kill.
That made two of them. Except Bowen wasn’t going to show his anger. Not today. Not with so much on the line.
Bowen jumped down alongside Harlis, leaned against the harvester, and folded his arms. “Return the woman.”
“I’ll send you to the mines before that happens. Get moving, or I’ll replace you.”
“Send me wherever you like, do whatever you want to me, but these harvesters aren’t going to work. Ever again. I’ve locked you out of the programs. Enter the wrong code and it will wipe the harvesters’ programming. You won’t even get the damn things to start up let alone pick or plant crops.”
“We need those harvesters.”
“Damn straight you need them. Otherwise, you’ll have to bring a thousand men over from West Side to pick the crops. I’m sure that won’t put enough of a dent into your zurlite extraction numbers for Manager Dresden or The Company to notice.”
“We’ll just get a computer programmer to reprogram the harvesters.”
“How long will it take you to get the right person out here? Weeks? Months?”
“That’s the least of his problems,” Gavin said, approaching from behind. He looked pale and moved slowly, his face and neck still bandaged, but the man was a tough bastard, tougher than anyone gave him credit for.
“What are you talking about?” Cragin asked.
