Page 8

The relief I felt when we finally escaped that prison of haughty waitresses and uncomfortable suits was unnerving. I don’t share the sentiment of wealth and luxury that Castor and Fury do. I grew up in the sticks of Pennsylvania, rounding up deer and pigs in the country for dinner with my grandfather and bathing in bug spray to keep mosquitos off the patches of exposed skin my jeans didn’t cover.

Wealth isn’t earned. It’s stolen. Beneath their $20,000 suits and snakeskin bags is a desperate man that had to kill and lie and claw his way to power. I’ve killed enough of these uppity magnates and politicians to know they probably deserve it. Wealth is never clean.

But I’ll settle for a dead boar instead.

The one I’m tracking is about as big and pot-bellied as the guests in Budapest, but at least this pig has a brain. With a single whiff of my scent, it takes off through the trees.

Adrenaline pulses in my veins, thrumming my heart as I take off after it. It’s fast, but hunting isn’t about speed. I pivot on my heel and duck under the low-hanging branches just as it makes it turn and I sink my blade into its back. Its squeals rattle the birds nearby, only jostling my blade while it thrashes until it’s buried to the hilt and collapses to the ground.

“Nighty-night, pig.” I wrench my knife out, cackling as the boar grows still and so does the forest.

Too easy.

My baron shines crimson as I hold it up towards the sun and watch the blood drip onto my tongue.

“Fuck, it’s been so long since I’ve had a decent hunt,” I groan.

Castor’s shadow fills the space out of the corner of my eye and he regards the dead pig with an upturned nose.

“Do you plan on taking that with us?”

I lean down to the dead animal. He has a point. A boar this size can weigh a good 200lbs, too much for me to haul miles into the forest. I slice through the pig’s stomach and the air is flooded with the sickly-sweet smell of its contents being spilled out into the dirt.

“Some of it. At least we’ll have a few days worth of food.” I pick up the liver. “Do you want your share now, or later?”

His eyes narrow. “I don’t eat pork.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers. Get it while it’s warm,” I taunt.

Castor shoots me a glare before trudging down the hill.

I laugh.

Sure you don’t want to blow off some steam, buddy? I can take it.

Castor leads the way deeper into the forest. Mountains peak out from the thick trees—those same mountains that almost killed us six years ago. I’m no stranger to those hills or their dangers, but Acacia is hardly as smart. Bringing bombs to that bunker was a mistake they paid for, all for the chance we’d die with it.

And they failed.

The mountains are an omen—a warning to turn back, but not for us. Only one of us will make it out of Austria this time; Acacia or the Codex.

Castor stops abruptly and dirt cakes under my boots as I skid to a halt. A small chain link fence divides the forest in two, wrapping around the trees and stretching miles in each direction. wrapped around the forest. Rust peels away the remains of the silver paint and the chains are warped, barely holding up the large warning. The letters are peeled and degraded from years of neglect, but the skull is impossible to ignore:

Danger!

Natural gas

DO NOT ENTER

I climb through, peeling the degraded chains back and squeezing through the gap. I only make it a few feet before I realize Castor hasn’t moved.

“You coming?” I call over my shoulder.

He doesn’t move, staring past me, trembling hands barely gripping the paper. My brows push together, and I turn back to the hills, but there’s nothing but mounds of grass and trees for miles past the fence line. Nothing except…

Then I see it. The hill in front of us isn’t a hill. When I step closer, the overgrowth of the green becomes visible on the rock and in the shadows of the mountains above it is the entrance to a cave.

“Absolutely not.” Castor steps back, glancing at the map Fury gave us. The paper wilts as he crushes it in his hands, jaw tensing when he stares daggers through the cave’s entrance. “Is this a fucking joke?”

“Fury checked this out days ago. It’s safe,” I try to reassure him, peeling back the fence and offering a hand, but he doesn’t take it. His breaths turn to huffs and his pupils blow until they’re pitch black. I know what that means. I’ve seen it too many times.

Fucking hell, Fury. Why do you have to play the asshole now?

I step out, prying the crumpled map from his hands and replacing it with my flashlight. “Here.”

His eyes are glued to the cave, striking him like a bullet to the chest. It takes him several moments before his heavy breaths calm and he finds the flashlight in his hands with a tight grip.

I give him a questioning look that he returns with a nod, though it doesn’t mask the curl of his nose as he disappears inside the cave, grumbling to himself. “...fucked in the head. Next time I’m putting us on the water.”

I give the forest one last look before following him inside.

A fucking cave.

Great.

The tunnels extended on forever—a labyrinth circling a giant chasm in the center. An old diamond mine, carved out by hand that’s been abandoned, leaving the sparkling jewels and tools strewn about, left to rot for decades. The putrid smell only confirms it. It’s thick and suffocating, sour like rotting animals and sewage. Animal secretions I can handle, and even enjoy, but this? This is repulsive.

I cover my nose with my sleeve, inhaling the mixed scent of polyester and pig’s blood. “Smells like shit in here.”

“Methane,” Castor answers. “Probably a gas mine. Be careful where you fire your gun in here, Arik.”

Well that explains a lot. I wouldn’t want to work in a place that smells like Satan’s ass crack either.

I’m suffocated by the smell, but the endlessness of the tunnels makes me shiver. Without the map, finding our way to the focal point of the tunnels would be next to impossible.

An easy place to get lost in…or to die in.

A smile breaks out at the idea of luring contractors down here, one by one, letting them scream underground and fight each other like animals, but the deeper we travel and the narrower the tunnels become, the more Castor’s hand begins to shake, and suddenly, that feeling is gone.

“Silas?” I touch his shoulder and he flinches. “Hey, it’s just me.”

His eyes focus and that look flashes on his face again that has my muscles tensing.

I can’t convince him this time, so I grab him by the wrist and pull him forward through the tunnels.

The space is a tight fit, barely enough for Castor’s obscenely large body to get through, but when I exit the other side, I’m greeted by bright white lights.

The central infrastructure of the cave is paved in steel. Five tunnels rest on the side we emerged from, paths all circling back to this enormous space. The metal walls climb dozens of feet in the air where the blinding lights hang above us like sunlight, circling a large glass ceiling.

Castor clicks off the flashlight, staring at the bright crystalized ceiling overhead. “Now that’s something you don’t see every day.” He laughs.

“I thought you might like it.”

The voice jars us both and I barely have time to duck before his gun goes off.

The bullet ricochets back and forth between the metal panels until it plants into a dusty box full of papers scribbled in german.

I stand abruptly, giving Fury a dirty look while they’re doubled over laughing.

“You’re lucky none of us were shot!” I seethe.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.” They smile. “I wanted to make sure you found the distribution center. It’s dangerous being so deep in the mine.”

Castor’s eyes narrow and he takes a single step closer.

“If you think the mine is the greatest threat to your life right now, you’re wrong.”

“Alright, alright,” Fury holds up their hands in surrender. “I’ll announce myself more clearly next time. I thought the view was enough to keep you calm.”

“Why are we here, Fury?” he grits out.

Fury gestures towards the box of shredded papers. “That’s why.”

Castor’s jaw flexes and I step between him and Fury before he does something stupid. His eyes narrow in on me, flaring with anger, but I watch the tension in his shoulders fall and his fists finally unclench.

I shoot Fury a glare.

“We don’t need riddles,” I bite back. “Tell us what the fuck is going on. Why are we hiding in a mine? We don’t have eyes down here.”

“Neither does Acacia.” Fury pulls out their laptop, folding it over to show an array of frequencies and cameras of their campsite deep inside the forest. “The metal infrastructure masks our frequencies. The only line available is through here.” They zoom in on the screen, showcasing the three small signatures in this room. “Our radio signals will transmit through the underground network, but they won’t see them. As long as you stay here, you’re invisible.”

“What about entrances to the mine?”

Fury swipes across the screen, pulling up a digitized map.

“It should be easily concealed.” They pinch the screen, showcasing the two tunnels exiting on the mountainside. “The avalanche took care of most of them. The rest are caved in or boarded. Yours is the only way in or out.”

Castor and I observe the markings on the map and the many paths the tunnels draw out to, a labyrinth with a single map and no way to use firearms or communication if either of us needs backup.

For once, I agree with Castor. This is a disaster waiting to happen.

The laptop smacks shut as Fury huffs, giving both of us a stern look.

“You asked me to keep you hidden, and I did. If you want to find the bunker before Bane finds you, this is the best way to hide.”

“This place is a tomb,” Castor mutters.

He’s not looking at either of us. He’s staring directly above us, eyes scanning over the only visible exit he can find.

I might choke Fury out personally after this, but for now, they’re right.

I wave them off, breaking Castor’s glossy stare with the snap of my fingers.

“Take a walk,” I order.

“I’m fine.”

“It wasn’t a suggestion, Silas.”

His eyes narrow as I square my shoulders. Castor may have his own strengths, but stubbornness is one of mine, and Castor knows better than to lie to me, or to ignore me when I give him that order.

“You’re not trapped here,” I tell him. “Take. A. Walk.”

He breaks my stare, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t like small spaces, Arik,” he concedes.

“I know. Do what you need to do. Just do it quietly.”

He leaves a moment later and when Fury reappears, I have to shove down the bloodlust quickly rising in my chest. Fury has long surpassed playing with fire. They’re fucking dancing in it.

“You could’ve chosen any other fucking place to house us,” I growl. “This fucking cruel, even for you.”

They nod, calm and unbothered. “It is, and that’s why Acacia won’t come near here. Because Castor wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this.”

My jaw tenses. “What do you have on the bunker?”

“It’s still buried, but Bane’s been sending out scouts for months. They probably know we’re looking for it.”

“Or their paranoia is finally catching up to them.”

“Something drew him back to the States. Bane was supposed to be fronting the attack in Budapest. I don’t know what changed.”

Footsteps pace between the tunnels. Each time, Castor comes to a stop, shining his flashlight into the darkness before moving onto another one.

“Maybe your intel was wrong,” I tell them.

They shake their head.

“Three of my sources put him in Budapest. He vanished long before we got there.” They check the laptop, scrolling through the camera feed. “I sent them coordinates to a COP outpost about a quarter mile from here. They should be stationed there for a while.”

I scoff. Predictable. Bane never leaves his comfort zone, but even he knows he can’t hunt with witnesses breathing down his neck.

“Is that enough for you to set up your kill zone?” They ask.

I nod. “You’ll need to section off the area so we can run some recon. I don’t want any surprises this time.”

“I’ll secure the perimeter, and we can move off to–”

A metal clatter jars both of us, looking towards the tunnels where Castor is frozen, rifle on the ground and phone gripped tightly in his hands.

The security feed plays through his phone, blaring noise of a truck moving onto the COP. Bane exits the truck and behind him, a small girl with darkened blonde hair and all-too-familiar eyes gets out alongside him, offering him a salute.

Helena Kinsley.

Fucking hell…