Page 28 of The Last Sanctuary

Raven eased around the corner, cautiously scanning the front of the park. She counted ten bikers gathered outside the gates. She recognized several from the pharmacy: burly blond Scorpio, Damien with the sharp fox-face, a fat short one whose name she didn’t know, and Dekker, the dead-eyed one who’d shot Carl in the face. The one who’d threatened her outside the pharmacy.

Of the half-dozen bikers she didn’t recognize, one stood out. He stood half a head taller than the others. He was huge, with a barrel chest and blue tattoos squirming across bulging biceps the size of footballs. She was close enough to make out his square, stubbled jaw and chestnut-brown hair shorn close to his skull.

He sauntered up to the gate with one ham-sized hand resting on the butt of his AR-15 rifle. His shrewd gaze assessed everything as he scanned his surroundings.

The others were tough, burly, and heavily tattooed. They carried various weapons—rifles, knives, and guns. Most wore gloves, with masks tugged down around their necks. They circled the tall man, waiting for his orders. He was clearly their leader. This must be Vaughn, the name Scorpio had mentioned at the pharmacy.

She strained to make out their voices, which carried in the quiet.

Ponytail glared up at the fence. “What the hell is this place?”

“A wildlife refuge.” Damien read the sign affixed to the gate. Ponytail looked at him blankly. “Like a private zoo.”

“The animals are probably dead,” Scorpio said. “Or else those crazy Earth Liberation activists released them, like they did in Atlanta.”

Kodiak chose that moment to give a half-hearted bellow, which echoed through the park.

“That a lion?” asked a bearded Black man, his eyes going wide.

“You’re an idiot, Cobb,” Damien said. “Don’t you recognize a bear when you hear one?”

Cobb scowled in embarrassment. Dekker and Scorpio laughed at him. Damien’s face flushed at the show of approval.

Vaughn threw back his head and laughed. “Guess at least one wild animal is still alive. Anybody have bear meat recently?”

“My mouth is already watering,” Ponytail said. “I’ll take any meat.”

“I’m sure you will,” Dekker drawled.

“What a pleasant surprise.” Vaughn peered through the bars of the gate and took in the restaurant, the lodge, the picnic tables, and the souvenir shop. “A precious jewel hidden away in the middle of nowhere.”

Vlad’s roar punctuated the quiet evening air.

The bikers froze and stared at each other. Damien’s mouth gaped in startled awe.

Vlad roared repeatedly, the deep bass notes ringing across the grounds. It was an impressive sound, conjuring images of enormous, vicious beasts hunting their dinner.

A savage grin spreading across his face, Vaughn slapped Damien on the back so hard he stumbled. “Gentlemen, we’vejust entered the jungle. Good find, Dekker. You’ve earned first choice for your prize.”

“What about the girl?” Dekker asked, sounding bored.

Raven stiffened. Dekker had looked at her like she was prey. She still didn’t know how they’d found her; she’d been so careful to ensure she wasn’t followed.

“She might be here, she might not,” Scorpio said. “How much time do you want to waste looking for her?”

“It’s not a waste,” Dekker said flatly. “She and I have unfinished business. Besides, she’s premium quality. And she’s here. I know she is.”

Dekker scanned the trees as he prowled next to Vaughn, hand resting on his holster. He was likely Vaughn’s beta, his enforcer. Dekker pointed toward the carport at the other end of the parking lot. “That’s her car. With all the bumper stickers.”

Icy fear poured through Raven’s veins. The faded, peeling stickers. The ones advertising Haven Wildlife Refuge, which her father had been so proud to paste all over the bumper. She’d forgotten about them. Damn it! That’s how he’d found her, then.

“Bring her to me,” Vaughn said. “If she’s as hot as you say she is, I have a particular client who will… appreciate … her exotic flair.”

The bikers laughed.

“I get first crack at her,” Dekker said.

Vaughn raised his eyebrows. “We’ll see.”