Cutthroats Of The Fall: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (The Fall Book 5) by Steve Heuzinkveld

Author:Steve Heuzinkveld [Heuzinkveld, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steve Heuzinkveld
Published: 2024-08-14T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 34

DING!

Riley stirred awake with the coppery taste of blood in her mouth, and her eyelids feebly fluttered open, her vision blurring with the unfamiliar blaze of ceiling lights.

She was lying on her back, her arms raised above her head and in handcuffs, with Aksel’s fist gripping the chain links in between as he dragged her out of an elevator into a carpeted hallway.

Jake was still unconscious, his limp body slung over one of Kuba’s brawny shoulders as the pair of captors walked side by side along the well-lit corridor.

At least Heather and Clay got away, Riley supposed, watching as the empty elevator’s doors closed in their wake. But where the fuck are Kentaro and his people?

“Holding cells for the tournament are downstairs,” a man’s voice spoke through a tinny speaker somewhere up ahead. “Why are you bringing your trash up here?”

“We caught these two trying to steal a truck from the impound,” Aksel reported, coming to an abrupt stop. “They slashed the tires on some of the convoy’s backup vehicles too.”

“So?” the tinny voice came again.

Keeping her movements small to avoid attracting any attention, Riley turned her head to one side, peering past the backs of Aksel’s rangy legs. In the corner of her eye, she could see that a security checkpoint had been set up in the middle of the hotel’s hallway.

“So!?” Aksel slammed his palm against the security window, the reinforced glass shuddering violently. “We want a fucking reward!”

“Well, Radek’s not in right now, so you’ll just have to –”

“You’ll just have to shut the fuck up,” Kuba derailed the man’s sentence with a menacing growl. “Let us through. We’ll wait for him inside.” He prodded the thick window with the barrel of his shotgun, “Or we can find out how tough this glass really is.”

“Miranda – I mean, The Valkyrie – she’s here,” a jittery woman’s voice came next. “You can talk to her instead. Hand over your weapons first, and we’ll buzz you through.”

“Fucking desk jockeys,” the scarred Latino snorted in amusement as he and Aksel disarmed themselves, dropping their guns into the counter’s security tray. Kuba rapped his knuckles on the glass, pointedly glancing down at his shotgun, “I want it reloaded by the time we’re done. Somebody around here’s gotta keep the thugs outside from getting in.”

An electrical whirring sounded in the hallway, and a door without a handle popped open beside the checkpoint, granting them access to the rest of the corridor.

Riley kept one eye half-open as Aksel resumed dragging her along the floor, watching as the pair of security guards shifted uneasily in their seats before radioing ahead.

With her hands cuffed, her combat knife missing, and outnumbered by Radek’s people, there was little else that she could do but listen and wait for an opportunity to escape.

But in the back of her mind, Riley was unable to ignore the growing feeling of regret that had taken root, muddying her preference between reckless heroism and survivor’s guilt – the nagging thought that she had already lost her last opportunity to escape from the moment she left the armored truck.

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