Page 55 of Out for Blood
His entire body twitches.
More sobs wrench free.
His chest heaves so vigorously, I’m not sure he can pull enough air into his lungs to keep breathing.
“I told you everything,” he cries out, voice collapsing into itself. “Please! I swear!”
The drill presses harder against his skull like an unspoken promise.
A shriek rips out of him anyway.
I study him with detached indifference.
“You still don’t get it,” I indicate. “This stopped being about information a long time ago.”
His entire frame shudders, fear radiating from him so strongly it seems to take on a life of its own.
Behind me, Tyler shifts his weight, but he doesn’t interrupt.
Because he knows.
He saw the beds.
The operating tables.
The bodies.
“You housed them here. Drugged them. Cataloged them. Let people carve through them like they were inventory.”
Inventory. Not people. Not lives. Just a product.
“I never touched them,” he cowers. “I handled logistics! I wasn’t the one hurting them!”
A dark sort of clarity envelops me, and I give him a horrifying smile.
“You built the road that led them here,” I whisper, accusingly. “And now you want credit for not swinging the knife yourself?”
His mouth opens, and nothing comes out.
The drill whines louder as I squeeze the trigger slightly harder, the spinning bit scraping just enough against bone to make him convulse with a scream so brutal it shreds through the room.
Tyler exhales slowly behind me.
As though he’s watching a storm he knows better than to step into too quickly.
The drill whirs louder in my hand.
His composure shatters instantly.
“No, no, no, I have a family!”
I step closer as he is trying to get away from me, but he doesn’t get far.
Close enough that he has to look directly at me.
“You were right about one thing,” I chuckle, “Someone will replace you.”
Tears stream harder down his face now.
