Page 64 of Tag
I motioned for Aponi to stop, but it was too late. She’d already cleared the last cart, her line of sight opening straight to the yawning black of the entrance… and the man standing in it.
Graves.
Even in the flicker of gunfire, I knew it was him. The black jacket, the calm, almost casual stance, the way he seemed untouched by the chaos raging around him.
He didn’t raise his weapon. Didn’t have to. His eyes were locked on Aponi like the rest of us didn’t exist.
“Aponi.” My voice was low, warning.
She froze. Her finger tightened on the trigger, but I saw the way her breath caught.
Graves smiled—slow, deliberate—and took one step forward into the light. “Detective Hartman.” His voice carried over the noise, smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. “You’ve been a very hard woman to find.”
Her jaw tightened. “Not hard enough.”
I shifted my aim to center mass, my gut screaming that the second I fired, his men would close in. But the way he was looking at her, I knew this wasn’t about killing.
This was about taking her.
And if I didn’t move now, he just might.
57
Aponi
Ididn’t see his hand move.
One second, Graves was standing in the mine’s mouth, smiling like a man holding all the cards.
The next, he flicked something small and black—like a garage remote—before slipping it into his jacket pocket.
The ground shuddered.
A deep, guttural crack split the night, followed by the grinding roar of ancient stone giving way. The mine’s supports screamed, a sound so raw it rattled my bones.
“Down!” Tag’s voice cut through the chaos, but the blast of dust and debris hit before I could drop. The air went white with grit, the world a blur of choking earth and splintered wood.
I coughed, eyes stinging, ears ringing. Somewhere to my left, someone shouted my name—but the sound was muffled, distant. I turned toward it, toward Tag—
And saw the collapse slam down between us.
An avalanche of rock and rusted steel filled the entrance, sealing me inside the mine. The light from outside narrowed to a sliver… then vanished.
The silence that followed was worse than the noise.
Footsteps echoed behind me. Slow. Unhurried.
Graves.
“You always were brave,” his voice rolled out, calm and conversational, like we were meeting for coffee. “But bravery only gets you so far underground.”
I raised my pistol, my heartbeat loud in my ears. “You’re not walking me out of here.”
He laughed, the sound bouncing off the stone walls. “Oh, Detective… you’re walking yourself out. You just don’t know it yet.”
Somewhere deeper in the mine, a light flickered on—yellow, weak, like it belonged to an old lantern. It wasn’t enough to see him clearly, but I could see his shadow stretching long across the uneven ground, moving away.
“Come find me,” he called, his voice fading into the dark.
