Miscreants: Next Generation (Badlands 8)

The gun going off had Tammy springing away from Knox, letting out a screech that had me cringing. She jumped up and rushed to Tyson’s side. Amo tried to shoot her too, getting a clicking noise in response.

“Damn, I’m out of shells.” He flipped the gun around and slammed the butt into the back of the woman’s head.

“Stop!” Knox attempted to go to his mother’s aide without bothering to tuck himself away.

He rushed right into Mal’s gambit. The expression on his face was priceless. He looked down where the metallic colored handle was sticking out of his upper navel as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“You didn’t think you’d get out of this situation unscathed, did you?” Mal pulled the knife out and gave one forceful shove.

Knox careened backward. He met with the dining room table and fell over it, landing on top of broken glass and saucy beans.

“Grab that old bitch and let’s go,” he directed at Amo.

He glanced at me and held his hand out.

“What about Hannah?”

“Fuck her.”

I stepped back and glared at him. “No. She’s still alive!”

Something flashed in his eyes that sent a shiver down my spine. He wasn’t showing it on the outside, but I knew on the inside he probably wanted to kill me here and now.

“I’ll meet you out front,” Amo stated, carrying Tammy out of the room, cradled in one arm like a football.

Without another word spoken to me, Samael walked over to Hannah and crouched down.

Looking me dead in the eye, he grabbed her head and lifted her up, keeping one boot on her side.

He twisted with so much force his muscles visibly flexed.

There was a faint pop, the snapping of her neck.

“A miracle occurred. She’s no longer alive,” he mused, dropping her now lifeless body.

I could only stare at him. Why did he look at me like that? He’d clearly misunderstood what I meant. I’d wanted her dead too. She would be no good to us alive, and leaving her here like this would’ve been too cruel.

He purposely stepped on her as he made his way back to me, grabbing hold of my hand.

“We’re going now.”

“Jacob and Knox are alive too,” I managed to say as we crossed the foyer. I’d heard them both groaning and breathing heavily as we exited the room.

“That’s because I’m not done yet.”

What did he mean by that?

I followed along, letting him lead me out of the house. The proselyte that had come in with him silently trailed us.

Outside, the lights from two Brabuses and the barn partially lit our darkened surroundings. A few bodies of people I didn’t recognize were scattered in the driveway.

Takara, Poet, and Cherry all stood beside one of the box-shaped SUVs. They seemed to be okay, watching what was happening with the mother.

A large toolbox of sorts sat between Brody and another proselyte. They created a tag on the barn door, marking this place as Lazarus. The insignia was a lot like the Savages, to the point that some people got confused. I think Mal did that on purpose. It was the opposite of how Travis has described it in Phobos—not hidden at all.

Amo approached Brody with Tammy still in his possession. Those two and the proselyte worked quickly to attach her in the center of the insignia, starting with her wrists.

The proselyte held her up while Brody pinned her arm so Amo could insert what looked like a large chunk of metal through her wrist.

The air filled with the echo of hammering and her painful wails. I wondered if they would do her feet, too. It would be agonizing enough just to be left dangling by the wrists. All her body weight would be resting on those two screws.

Gravity would soon stress all her muscles, joints, and ligaments. They’d be overextended. Her arms would certainly pop out of their sockets at this point.

Takara finally noticed me, sparing a glance for Samael. I wanted to go to them, but, as if he could read my mind, Samael’s grip tightened to the point I had to muffle a squeak of protest. He led me to one of the Brabuses and pulled open the passenger side door.

“Get in.”

I didn’t have the energy to battle with him, nor did I dare to test his mood right now. I climbed into the car without any resistance and settled against the leather seat. Mal slammed the door shut without sparing me a second glance and then disappeared back inside the farmhouse.

I hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

When I came to, I had been covered with a soft throw and we were no longer at the rodeo grounds.

Readjusting, I sat up stiffly and looked around, gathering my bearings.

I looked in the backseat, seeing only the two proselytes. I could only assume Takara and Poet were in the SUV trailing us. I faced forward again, viewing Samael in my peripheral. He kept his attention on the road ahead.