with a semi-automatic rifle, unloading one, and then another, with unsurprising efficiency. When it comes to our sister, nothing shocks us anymore.
Mitch sighs. “She’s better than most of the cops in my division.”
I give my brother a pointed look. “Don’t ever let her hear you say that.”
We reach the side of the storm drain exit, the three of us pulling our guns. It’s a large concrete cylinder, built into the side of a hill and tall enough to walk through without having to crouch. During the wet season it would have gushed into the river like a geyser, but we’ve been in drought for a long time and now it sits empty, making it the perfect escape tunnel.
I speak quietly. “How do we get the drop on this bastard? We may have the element of surprise here, but while he has that remote, our hands are still tied.” I glance at my watch. “We have about a minute to come up with a plan.”
“We get the drop on him literally,” Mitch says, and lays out the details quickly. It’s not a great plan because there’s a lot that could go wrong, but we’re out of time.
“Let’s do this,” I tell them the moment Mac joins us. Grabbing my sister, I drag her behind the nearest, largest tree I can find while my brothers take their own positions. It’s an Australian Eucalypt, the base wide, it’s branches long and leafy.
We both put our backs to the trunk, guns lowered in both hands, muzzles pointed to the ground.
“What’s the plan?” Mac asks, her head tipped to the dappled light of the blue sky as we wait.
“The plan is for you to stay behind this tree until this is over.”
“Your plan sucks.”
“Be quiet,” I hiss.
My heart is pounding a mile a minute, my mind racing even faster. I’m trying to go over contingencies while straining for noise from the storm drain, but my brain is fried, and all I hear are the squawking of crows.
Five minutes pass but it feels like five hours. My fear climbs exponentially. Did we get this wrong? Did he take the opposite path? Was there another way out? Where the fuck is she?
And then I hear it. The sweet, blessed sound of Evie, her voice bouncing off the cement tunnel as they move towards the exit. “You know the last time I saw something like you, I flushed it.” She sounds winded but okay. “Get it? You’re a fucking turd, Grudge.”
I turn sideways, peering out behind the tree and into the drain. They’re not visible yet but their voices are getting closer.
“Fuck you’re a bitch. Shut ya trap. I’m over your fuckin’ shit.” He sounds it too, and I know my wife must have been riling him the whole way. My chest swells with pride. She’s hoping it’ll force a misstep. People do stupid things when they’re pissed off, and we haven’t seen any sign of intelligent life in Grudge yet.
“Speaking of shit,” she retorts, continuing her little tirade, “you’ve got a little just there.” There’s a pause. “Just above your top lip.” Another pause, and she affects a disgusted tone. “Dude, that’s pretty gross.”
I hear a loud thump. Evie cries out, and the pained sound echoes outward. Mac flinches beside me. I close my eyes briefly, breathing past the fury.
“You like that, bitch?”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Grudge. I was only trying to help you.” She’s wheezing now, clearly hurting but still flinging her insults. “No one wants to walk around with shit on their lips.”
“Fuck,” he growls, and Evie cries out again.
“What’s wrong, Grudge? Did I embarrass you? I’d give a fuck, but it doesn’t really go with this outfit,” she tells him.
Their legs appear first, the top half of their bodies still shadowed by the tunnel. The sunlight climbs up and over them as Grudge inches forward, enough for me to see her still wrapped up in the damn vest, dashing my hopes that the biker might have ditched it somewhere along the way.
The burley bastard has Evie held in front of him. She’s still beaten and bloody and covered in filth, but she’s alive. He’s got one hand wrapped tight around the remote, the other fisted in her hair, yanking her head back as he pushes her along with his body.
“Bitch, you’re more annoyin’ than my old lady.”
“You got an old lady?” Evie sounds incredulous as Grudge does a scan of the area before pushing them forward, stepping out of the tunnel. “Does she enjoy