Heading toward violence and death, the only way to rid myself of the massive pit of anger festering inside my chest.
I crouched down at the edge of the woods, watching the warehouse. I didn’t see anyone patrolling, but I couldn’t wait too long to make sure. Plus, I was so angry it was almost physically impossible to sit still. I’d never gone into battle with so much anger built up inside me, because our drill instructors had taught us over and over that calm saved lives, but I couldn’t manage calm.
I was fury incarnate. I was raging hard, and I was going to bring every ounce of my fire down on them.
I made a break for it, heading toward a fire escape that snaked up along the side of the building. I made it without any problems and began to climb.
There were three landings. I skipped the first and second and stopped at the topmost window. I tested it, but it was locked. I reached into a pocket of my combat fatigues and pulled out a thin metal bar, shoving it into the space between the frame and the latch. With one quick push, I popped the latch, pushing the window upward.
I crept inside quietly. It was dark, with only the weak rays of sunlight illuminating the inside. I was in an office, empty and smelling vaguely of mildew and rot. The desk was overturned, papers scattered all over the ground, and the chairs were moldy. I guessed that it hadn’t been touched in a long time, and there was definitely a leak nearby. The ground seemed to flex under my feet.
I moved up toward the door and looked out. The hallway was similar, all papers strewn around and furniture left turned over. Bits of discarded wood and trash littered the space, and the walls were covered in graffiti. I listened for a minute but heard nothing, and so I moved out into the hall.
Up ahead I spotted a stairwell. The place was big on the inside, bigger than I had thought, and I was on what was clearly the executive floor. Or at least it had been the administrative area or something like that back before the factory had shut down. Based on the trash and the graffiti, I guessed that the warehouse was usually used by homeless people or drug addicts looking for a place to shoot up.
I stood at the top of the steps and looked down but saw nothing. As I got halfway down, moving silently as I went, I heard a noise, sharp and distinct in the otherwise quiet.
“Yeah,” the voice said, “just walking the upstairs.” There was a pause and then a radio crackling.
“Make it quick. Boss is back with the girl.”
Claire, I thought, pulse jumping.
“Got it. Out.”
His footsteps began to ring out, coming up toward me. I took a deep breath, trying to beat back some of the rage I felt swirling inside me.
I moved faster than even I thought I could. I jumped over the banister and landed directly on top of him, my feet and legs smashing into his face and chest, knocking us both to the floor. I felt my body hit the steps and slide down, but I grabbed his leg to stop myself.
He seemed completely dazed and shocked. Before he could move, I had my gun out and the barrel pressed against his head.
“Don’t make a noise,” I said quietly.
He nodded, eyes wide with fear.
He was older than me by a few years and had a deep scar running down his face. He looked like a mercenary or a cheap cutthroat, which was usually the same thing. His deep brown eyes looked afraid, but he understood his situation. I knew exactly what kind of man he was, and I knew what he had done in the past.
Bad things, bad fucking things.
“Where is the girl?”
“Who?”
I hit him with the butt of the gun, snapping his head back. His nose was definitely broken as blood trickled out.
“Lie again and I’ll kill you. I’ll find her eventually with or without you.”
“Downstairs, first floor. There’s a room in the back of the machine shop. She’ll be there.”
“Thank you.”
I pulled the trigger and he slumped to the ground. There was no mercy, not for men that kidnapped girls. Not anymore. I was done taking it easy.
I moved after that, threading my way down the steps and out at the first floor. The factory workspace spread out before me, debris scattered all over the place. I crouched down near the entrance, hiding in the shadows, and watched. It was an open floor, and I could tell that there had been machines there at one point. I couldn’t tell what sort of factory it was, but it must have been busy at its peak.
I spotted two men with guns pacing the upper observation catwalk. Toward the back was another man guarding a single door.
I moved silently around the walls, sticking to the shadows, until I found a stairway that led up to the catwalk. I moved up the steps, crouching down at the top, and waited.
The first man came into view after a second. I put a bullet directly between his eyes, not even giving him a chance to cry out.