Page 90 of Shadow of Death
He remembered the event that had led to him telling his parents it was all wrong; they’d had to get out of the cult they had joined once they started believing they were the saviors of humanity.
He remembered the body of a friend. A friend who had dared to become a dissident.
Stay the course.
He was enough of a highly experienced agent to fulfill the objective.
He was also deeply involved on the human level with Amy and Aidan.
But the men were moving again, prodding Amy and Aidan ahead of them. They walked, carefully, avoiding marsh, the occasional moccasin in the road and once an alligator.
Then finally, deep back behind a field of shoulder-high saw grass, they came to a cabin. It was truly hidden from any roads, from any waterways used by fishermen or airboat guides. It appeared to be falling apart.
They were nowhere near the Lost City, Hunter knew. And yet this might have been another such area, perhaps used by an enterprising bootlegger once upon a prohibition—and now little more than a derelict shack remained with vines and trees creeping over the walls and shadowing the roof.
They knew where they were going.
He held his distance, watching, waiting.
When he was sure they were inside the cabin, he made his way to it, mindless of the rip and tear of the saw grass on his clothing and hands.
There were no windows. Time had long since rid the place of windowpanes had they ever been part of the structure.
Hunter made his way silently to the wall, knowing he didn’t dare stay long, but anxious to look within.
There were a few chairs in the place around a poor excuse for a table. To one side of the room was a single bedroll, to the other, a set of children’s bunks.
Amy had been ordered to the top bunk.
Aidan was on the bottom.
The man who had wielded the gun and shot his companion in cold blood was on the phone speaking with someone.
Hunter was surprised he’d managed a signal this deep in the Everglades, but a booster in the shack might have provided for better communication.
He rose just by the window and was straining to hear.
“We have not failed you, Archangel!” the man said, his voice filled with respect and maybe even awe. He clearly believed what he was being told about the Apocalypse, sinners, and sacrifice with his whole heart. “Todd and I have not failed you. We have not one but two for you, and you will be pleased. Young as the sacrifice demands, and certainly, together as sinners. They are secure here—we will guard them through the night, giving them nothing but water. Tomorrow is the day! Despite the work of the Devil, we have prevailed. We will bring them to the place of glory tomorrow for the full rise of the sun. No, Archangel! You will lead the great battle for us, and you must stay where you are in comfort and safety until tomorrow!”
The call ended and Hunter hunched down lest one of the men glance out the window.
Nothing would happen to Amy or Aidan until the next morning.
They hadn’t been led to a headquarters—just to an old shack that was used to hold prisoners, the “sinners” for the “sacrifice.”
Hunter needed to back away through the saw grass and communicate with Ryan and Sean.
He didn’t intend to leave the area.
He’d be damned if he’d be far from the old shack until Amy and Aidan were out of it.
But there were things he needed to know as well.
If the “Archangel” was safe and secure but somewhere close enough to be able to come and inspect his prisoners, where was that place?
And just where did these people intend for their sacrifice to take place?
He started to rise. The man was talking again, talking to Amy, his head close to hers where it lay in the bunk.
