Odium IV: The Dead Saga by Claire C. Riley

Author:Claire C. Riley [Riley, Claire C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unknown
Published: 2016-12-10T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

The drive back out to the old barn is long, perhaps seeming longer because I feel so uncomfortable, but I feel it in my guts that we’ll find Adam today. One way or another.

We park farther away from the barn this time, closer to where I parked my truck when we ran out of gas. We pull into the bushes by the side of the road, keeping the truck out of view of anything and anyone, before climbing out. I look around, realizing that my truck isn’t here anymore.

“Where did my truck go?”

“Aiken got it towed back to Haven. There’s not many decent trucks that still run anymore—can’t go wasting the ones we do find,” Ricky replies.

I don’t know why, but it pisses me off to think that they towed my truck back and didn’t tell me. It’s mine, and it might not have gas in it, but it still runs…or it will when I get gas. Besides, there are other things inside it that are also mine. And Nina’s.

“I should have been told,” I snap, surprising Phil and O’Donnell. But not Ricky. He lets a slow smile rise to his face, as if he’s been waiting to find that one thing that’ll really get to me. “It’s my truck,” I grind out, not caring that I’m showing my weakness.

Ricky steps forward and tuts. “No, Mikey, it’s NEO’s truck now. Remember that. Everything you owned previously belongs to NEO—to Aiken. That’s how we work, and that’s what you agreed to.”

I open my mouth to speak, but then close it, knowing that he’s right. This is what I signed up for. The spoils get shared, and everything is split equally. I don’t own anything at all. Not until I earn it.

“I still should have been told,” I say, the words coming slowly as I try to contain my anger.

Ricky goes to speak but Phil interrupts. “Yeah, dude, you’re right, you should have been. But it’s done now, no biggie, right? I’ll take you to the truck when we get back, okay?”

I swallow down my anger and nod. “Fine.”

I refuse to look at Ricky, knowing that with the way I’m feeling right now, if I do and he has that same smug look on his face, I’ll smash him in those pretty-boy teeth of his and get myself kicked out of this damned group.

“Mikey,” O’Donnell calls from the edge of the field. She’s kneeling down and I walk over to kneel by her side. In her hand is a kid’s sneaker. “Is this his?” she asks.

I take the sneaker from her, noting the blood splatter across the laces, and I turn it over in my hand and squeeze my eyes closed while I try to remember what he was wearing on his feet. But I have no idea. I don’t think I ever looked at his feet.

“I don’t know,” I say and shake my head. I hold onto the shoe for a moment before dropping it to the ground. “I just don’t know.

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