Page 95 of Zero Divergence
Bonita giggled. He knew she’d be twirling her hair if he looked over at her. She’d climbed out of the car but hadn’t walked around to Royce’s side of the vehicle. “We got stuck behind a train for twenty minutes near Pembroke.” That explained the shrill whistle, the heavy thumping, and vibrations. “I wanted to tie him up with a bow, but it would’ve drawn too much attention. I made him piss himself, so surely that counts for something.” Her eagerness for Humphries’s praise was revolting.
“You did well, love,” Humphries said without taking his eyes off Royce. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to show your appreciation once we get rid of him,” Bonita replied.
“I have a name,” Royce groused.
The sick smile Humphries aimed at Royce only drove home how much this woman was in danger. One moment, Humphries had the gun pointed at Royce, and the next, Humphries turned it on Bonita.
“No, Fran—”Pop!
Royce didn’t look to see if Humphries’s aim was true and Bonita Brothers was dead. He needed cover and bolted for the woods—awkward at first but gaining speed as the adrenaline pumping through his veins helped to clear theoh fuckfrom his system.
Pop!
The ground exploded two feet in front of him on the right, so he cut to the left. Running in a straight line would’ve been faster, but it would also make it easier for Humphries to shoot him. Royce sharply zagged to the right again.
Pop!
Tree bark to his left exploded, burying splinters in his face. Royce kept his knees pumping, hauling ass as best he could with his arms bound awkwardly together. Once inside the woods, his foot snagged on a vine in the undergrowth. He stumbled and almost went down but somehow stayed upright.
Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.
At first, Royce thought the noise was his heart pounding, but then the sound got louder. A helicopter. It was flying pretty low too. Probably looking for marijuana crops. He needed to get out of the copse of trees and see if he could flag them down. As farfetched as it sounded, the pilots might be his only hope of surviving.
“You can’t outrun this gun,” Humphries called from behind him.
Oh, yeah? He’d already fired three times. Unless Humphries brought a second magazine, he would eventually run out of bullets.
“I’m going to kill everyone you love,” Humphries yelled triumphantly.
“By talking them to death?” Royce shouted. “You can’t shoot for shit.” It was brash and stupid, but he would not die cowering from this man or begging for his life. “I cannot wait to expose you as a monster to the world. I win. You lose.”
Royce’s heart raced, and his lungs labored as he headed up an incline. He didn’t know what was on the other side, but he didn’t have time to talk himself out of going over the edge.
Pop!
Dirt and leaves exploded by his feet when he crested the top of the hill and leaped, flinging himself into midair. He’d never wanted to be a bird and he hated flying. Royce’s stomach started to drop seconds before gravity yanked him by the ankles, pulling him down toward the earth again. The fall wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, and he landed on a plateau that jutted out from the side of the hill. Knowing Franco would be right behind him, Royce scrambled over the edge and began looking for cover, because he’d be too easy to pick off as he tried to climb out of the gulley on the other side.
Fallen trees of various length and girth lay scattered on the ground. Maybe they’d been cut down by loggers and left behind for some reason. Royce was grateful that several were big enough to provide shelter. It would be impossible for Franco to know which one he was hiding behind without investigating each log.
Royce had just ducked out of sight when he heard leaves rustling above him followed by loose rocks scattering down the incline.
“Come out, come out wherever you are, you pussy,” Humphries said.
Hiding from this fucker rankled him, so he forced himself to view it as strategizing. Topping the list: don’t be stupid and give away your hiding spot and find something to disarm him. Royce saw a thick stick that was at least two and a half feet long. With his hands bound in front of him, he could easily grip the stick with both hands. Adrenaline still surged through his body, making it hard to remain still while Franco started making his way down the hill.
“I think I’ll start by killing Marcus’s widow, but not until I have a lot of fun with her.”
Royce closed his eyes and breathed as quietly as he could. Something small like a woodland creature scurried in the underbrush two logs over from the one he crouched behind.
Pop!
Still not dead, asshole.
“Then I’ll laugh as I watch the life drain from your lover’s pretty brown eyes. I never took you for queer. Just goes to show how little we really know about people.”
Royce stayed completely still as Humphries’s voice grew louder as he drew nearer. He heard sticks and branches snapping beneath the killer’s feet because he wasn’t bothering to hide his approach. Humphries was convinced he had the upper hand, and it was up to Royce to disavow him of the notion. Tightening his grip around the stick, Royce sent up a prayer that he would time his attack perfectly and catch Humphries off guard because the cards were stacked against him.Challenge received and accepted, mother fucker.