Page 31 of Deadly Hacker

A shaftof sunshine pierced through the skylight at the perfect angle to land across Rad’s face as he lay in the bed of the RV. The light burned against his retinas even through his eyelids. He struggled to open his eyes, as though his body didn’t want to listen to his brain’s commands. They opened just a crack and immediately began to burn. He tried to turn his head away from the light, but again his body was slow to respond. Every miniscule movement took a monumental effort for some reason he didn’t understand. His arm reached out for Emma Jean, hoping to find some solace in her soft, warm, sleeping body. But his fingers found only a cold emptiness.

He forced his eyes open this time, his heart pounding faster as he realized he was alone. Again. Just like before, he woke up without Emma Jean, terrified that someone had stolen her away in the night. His voice was hoarse and weak when he called out for her. Rad felt around for his gun, and it dawned on him that it was still outside on the camp chair. But then, if he could remember getting up that morning and sharing a steamy tryst with Emma Jean, why was he back in bed now? Rad’s memory seemed to be full of holes. Reality sifted through it like sand through his clenched fingers. Every time he tried to move, he was met with a stomach-churning, pounding, nauseating ache in his head. He realized he couldn’t see well, despite having perfect vision. He raised one shaky arm to swipe at his face.

It came away crimson. Covered in blood.

“Fuck,” Rad hissed, dragging himself into a sitting position.

The small RV bedroom swam and tilted around him. The door was closed. There were no windows, only the skylight. The brightness and angle of the sunshine coming through told him it was still morning, probably no more than an hour from the time he got up earlier. He couldn’t have been out for very long.

But why was he back in bed? Why was he covered in blood? Why did his head hurt so badly? And most importantly to Rad: where the hell was Emma Jean?

He had to get up. He had to go find her.

Rad lurched toward the edge of the bed and nearly vomited right away. His body felt heavy and cramped, his limbs too wobbly to support him. His legs felt immobile, and for a moment he panicked that he was paralyzed. Then he lifted the bedsheets to see that his ankles were very clumsily bound together with a mass of electrical cords. It was no simple nautical knot, but a looping, illogical tangle. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it, especially with his brain pulsing with dull pain. Rad reached down to tug at the mess, trying to free himself.

Then, he heard a scream. The words were muffled, but he recognized Emma Jean’s voice. She sounded like she was in danger. She was calling for help.

“Emma Jean!” Rad called out, picking at the cords in a frenzy.

Whenever he pulled one cord loose, another would tighten. Despite the disorganized knotwork, Rad was struggling to make any headway. He kicked and pulled, groaning with frustration as he heard another cry from outside the RV. Rad desperately ripped at the cords until finally he was able to wriggle one foot free. He swung his leg over the side of the bed and, using the wall to steady himself, managed to limp to the doorway. He slid it open and immediately saw Emma Jean’s shower products, towel, and clothing strewn across the narrow hallway with the bathroom door flung open, the shower still streaming. Water was pooling on the bathroom floor and spilling out into the carpet.

Rad hastily switched off the water and maneuvered himself to the RV doorway. He could hear two voices now, Emma Jean’s and a mysterious male voice. His head was swimming. The entire RV was tilting around him like a funhouse. But he had to get to Emma Jean, even if it killed him in the process.

He flailed out and slapped the door handle, making the RV door pop open. Rad stood wobbling in the doorway and blinking into the dazzling desert sunshine. It took a moment for his blurry vision to put together the image of Emma Jean lying on the ground completely naked with a terrified look on her pretty face, arms raised over her head in defense. Standing over her was a hulking figure in tattered clothes. The man stood a little crooked; something was off about him. In a couple seconds, Rad realized that the attacker had one bandaged leg and one arm in a sling. His uninjured leg held a holster with a shiny, massive knife. His good hand clasped an expensive, professional-grade taser.

The man whipped around to glare at Rad with crazed eyes. He held the taser out between them, threatening to use it. “Don’t come any closer! Stay back!” he barked.

Rad was so dizzy from his head injury that he could barely raise both arms in surrender.

“Whoa, no need to use that thing. Whatever is going on here, we can work it out,” Rad began trying to reason with him.

“Shut up! Get back in the RV!” the guy snarled. “I’ll hurt you… or her!”

Even through the bloody haze, Rad thought the man’s features were familiar. And his voice was accented. He sounded Russian.

The puzzle pieced together in his head—this was the same man who had held up Saguaro Bank just a few days ago. Now he was here, in the middle of the empty desert, launching a second attack on Emma Jean. Judging from the tears streaming down her face, she had put two and two together already.

“Put the taser down, man. You’re scaring the hell out of her,” Rad commanded.

But the man shook his head. “No! You’re just as useless as that damn hostage negotiator. I’m not even here for her,” he hissed.

“So, what then? You want me instead?” Rad asked, taking one daring step down.

The man brandished his taser fiercely. “Stop! I’ll scramble your fucking brain!”

“Seems to me you already tried that,” said Rad, gesturing as best he could to his pounding head. His hand came away with more blood and his vision swam.

“I would’ve killed you outright if I wanted to,” he growled. “But what’s fair is fair. You spared my life when you could have killed me. You destroyed my leg and my arm, but you didn’t aim for my head. You’re the reason I’m still standing.”

“And this is how you repay him?” Emma Jean hurled from the ground.

He rounded on her, aiming the taser at her forehead. She froze up and gulped hard. Her eyes were huge and pleading for Rad to do something, anything.

“Shut your mouth! I should’ve known you were ashlyukhathe first time I saw you,” the man snapped. “I thought you were so beautiful. So pure. And then I find you here with this bastard, making a mockery of me!”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Rad insisted.

“Your people are supposed to honor their kin! We protect each other. We stand in solidarity. Back in the motherland, Bratva understand that,” he argued.

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