Hideout by Jack Heath (iphone ebook reader txt) 📕

letting Americans be tortured and killed in order to steal classified data from foreign leaders.

I had expected Zara to be on my side, but our goals don’t line up at all.

‘Just Agent Thistle, then,’ I say. ‘Help me get her out of here. I don’t care about the others.’ I don’t know how I’ll convince Thistle to leave them behind, but it sounds like my only choice.

‘What’s in it for me?’ Zara asks.

I rack my brain for something I can offer her. ‘I don’t tell the Guards who you’re working for.’

‘You can’t,’ Zara points out. ‘You’re a single Google image search away from being exposed. After that, they won’t believe a word you say.’

‘How about I help you figure out who really killed Samson. If it really wasn’t you, don’t you want to know?’

‘Samson killed himself,’ Zara says. ‘Sorry, but it’s that simple. Gay men in Samson’s age group are five times more likely to attempt suicide than straight men.’

‘Are they also likely to remove the bullets from their own heads afterwards?’

There’s curiosity in Zara’s eyes now. ‘The bullet is really gone?’

Before I can work out what to say next, footsteps thump up the corridor towards us.

Zara and I look at each other. What’s our excuse for being in here together?

A different bedroom door flings open. Mine. Someone is looking for me.

Another door opens. Whoever it is, they’re searching the whole house.

Zara quickly tucks the gun under her blankets. Then she grabs my hand, pulls me down onto the bed with her, and kisses me. Her lips are smooth and warm. She tastes of mint. I try to struggle free, in case it’s Fred in the corridor, but she doesn’t let me go.

At that moment, the door bursts open. Donnie storms in. He sees us both on the bed, my shirt untucked, Zara’s arms around my neck, her dress open to the waist. His expression darkens.

‘Get up,’ he snarls.

Zara releases me. ‘Donnie—’

Donnie grabs me by the ear and pulls me off the bed. Pain explodes across the side of my jaw and scalp.

‘Wait,’ I say.

‘How much have you told him?’ Donnie snaps. Not what I expected him to say.

‘We weren’t talking,’ Zara says pointedly.

‘Good.’ Donnie kicks me in the ribs with a steel-capped boot, leaving me wheezing. ‘Because he’s a fucking FBI agent.’

No.

No.

This is exactly what I’ve been dreading.

‘What? That doesn’t make sense.’ Zara sounds genuinely shocked. She’s a hell of an actress.

‘Maybe not, but it’s true.’ Donnie hauls me by the collar out the back door, past the greenhouse and the vegetable garden. The dogs snap and snarl as we pass.

‘Donnie, listen,’ I say. ‘Someone is lying to you—’

He punches me in the eye socket. Sparks fill my vision and my brain wobbles like jello.

Fred emerges from around the side of the house.

‘Found him,’ Donnie says.

Cedric looks up—he’s been scraping food scraps into the composting pipe. ‘What’s going on?’ he asks as Kyle runs out of the greenhouse.

‘Lux is a fucking fed,’ Donnie says.

Kyle’s eyes go wide.

‘I’m not!’ I scream. But I can’t come up with anything to support the lie.

Donnie kicks me in the back. Something cracks. Hopefully not my spine. He loses his grip on my collar and grabs my throat instead. I can’t speak anymore. I can hardly breathe.

Fred is already unlocking the slaughterhouse. He doesn’t look as surprised as the others. Donnie must have told him already, before he started looking for me.

Zara is right behind us. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she says, but that’s all. She doesn’t try to defend me.

‘How do you know?’ Cedric demands.

‘I just got a message from Druznetski,’ Fred says.

The private investigator. My heart sinks. I hadn’t even considered him as a threat.

‘This guy isn’t Lux,’ Fred continues. ‘It’s the FBI agent he killed—the one he claimed to have killed. Blake.’

I was never an agent, I was a civilian consultant. I don’t think they’ll care about the distinction.

It’s not true, I try to say, but Donnie’s hand is still squeezing my throat. All that comes out is a choked gasp.

‘Holy shit,’ Kyle says. A look of betrayal has washed away his faux-nihilism.

‘But—but I saw a picture,’ Cedric stammers.

Fred opens the slaughterhouse door, ignoring him. The other prisoners stare as Donnie drags me in. I try to get a look at Thistle, but my head is twisted the wrong way.

I can’t rescue her if I get chained up in here. I kick and squirm, but I can’t loosen Donnie’s grip.

The shiny new cameras watch us from above, red lights blinking. Whatever is about to happen to me will be recorded for thousands of greedy psychos.

‘Help me chain him up,’ Donnie tells Kyle. ‘I’ll beat some answers out of him.’

‘No,’ Fred says sadly. ‘Druznetski gave me all the information I need. Switch on the grinder.’

CHAPTER 36

A sickness rearranges the gale—it’s a crime!

The motor growls and the blades clatter, louder and louder as the machine warms up.

The prisoners shrink back against the walls of the slaughterhouse, preparing for the rain of blood. Thistle’s the only one who doesn’t close her eyes. She hasn’t seen this before. She doesn’t know what’s coming. But she knows it’s bad.

Sweat glitters on her forehead. It would be nice to imagine that she’s scared on my behalf, but really, she knows that if I die, she and the others have no hope of escape.

‘Wait,’ she says.

The Guards ignore her.

Donnie takes his hand off my throat so he and Fred can load me into the chute. I try to struggle free, but they’re too strong.

‘If I was a cop, I would have arrested you all by now,’ I rasp. Talking is my only option. ‘You’ve done plenty of illegal