Page 130 of He Sees You

Sterling's phone rings.

He fumbles for it, shows us the screen. "It's the drivers. They need confirmation to proceed."

"Answer it," Cain orders. "Everything is normal. You're at the cabin, ready to receive."

Sterling does, his voice somehow steady despite the gun Cain holds to his temple. "Yes, proceed as planned. I'm here... No, no changes... Yes, the buyers have been notified to arrive."

He hangs up. "Fifteen minutes."

We take positions.

Cain will handle the drivers.

I'll manage the girls initially—a woman's presence might calm them.

Sterling will stand exactly where we tell him, say exactly what we script, or die before the buyers even arrive.

Headlights sweep across the windows.

Two vans, nondescript, the kind contractors use.

They park, and two men exit—one huge and bald, one smaller with nervous eyes.

Both armed.

"Sterling!" the big one calls. "Get out here and help. Some of these bitches are fighters."

My father walks out, and I follow, staying in shadows.

The men don't notice me at first—their eyes are on Sterling, then the vans' cargo.

When they open the rear doors, I see them.

Twelve girls, zip-tied and gagged, some unconscious, others with eyes wide in terror.

The youngest looks even younger than thirteen—maybe eleven, drugged and limp.

"The young one gave us trouble in Albany," the nervous man says. "Had to dose her twice."

That's when he sees me.

A bride in a dirty white dress, holding a gun.

"What the?—"

Cain moves from behind, his knife opening the big man's throat in one motion.

Arterial spray paints the snow red.

The nervous one reaches for his weapon, but I'm already firing.

The gun kicks hard, the bullet catching him center mass.

He drops, twitching.

I shoot him again to be sure.

My first kill.