Revenge (The Iron Fists Book 4) by Margot de Klerk

Author:Margot de Klerk [Klerk, Margot de]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MdK
Published: 2024-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

WE WERE ALL UP EARLY the next morning, less by spoken agreement, and more from a shared sense that we needed to come up with a plan, and fast, to stay ahead of events in the town. Ellery managed to garner Claire’s agreement to accompany me out to meet Diego, though she wasn’t too happy about it.

“I do actually have things to do, you know,” she griped as we ate breakfast.

“We’ve been helping you out on the farm,” Ellery said. “You can help us out with this.”

Claire scowled. “Fine,” she muttered, and for the remainder of the meal, she ate her porridge as though it had personally offended her.

Once breakfast was done, we loaded up. Bas and Kade were going to be heading into town to do recon and hopefully speak to Turner at the Hawke and Tern. Claire and I had an hour-long drive ahead. And Ellery and Laura would be holding down the fort, and hopefully coming up with a grand plan to dig us out of our latest hole.

I suspected it was an excuse to do some discreet snogging, but I certainly wasn’t going to call them out on it after last night.

Outside the gates, we separated from Bas and Kade as they headed south, and Claire and I cut directly east towards the Crater’s Edge road. I had Bas’s car, so not only was the driving positively a fun experience, but the radio worked; Claire promptly turned it up loud and spent the next hour staring out of the window.

I had seen the service station on Crater’s Edge Road once before, driving past it with Bas on our fateful return to Bale Rocks after Maddock was shot. We hadn’t entered, though. Today, as the chain-link fence came into view, I slowed Bas’s car. Navigating the slip road was like doing a slalom course between potholes, before we ultimately ended up in the very middle of the road, squeezing between two concrete barriers that were positioned so a car could just pass through. Immediately beyond that, there was a cattle grid on the ground, and the whole car rattled as we crossed it. Then we were inside. The gas pumps were straight ahead, and beyond that, there was a grocery store and restaurant, each bearing faded red and yellow signs. I counted eight cars: two groups of three and one group of two. Most people seemed to prefer to travel the wasteland in convoys. But one other person was here alone.

“Do you know which car is his?” Claire asked.

“I’m guessing it’s that one.” I headed towards the dark blue four-by-four that was parked closest to the restaurant. As I pulled in beside it, Claire shifted our gun into her lap.

We needn’t have worried. Diego approached from inside the restaurant, his lithe figure obscured by an oversized, clearly well-made black coat.

“Benoit,” he said when I jumped out to meet him. His eyes swept over me, and then over to my car. “I told you to come alone.”

“You might want to drive the wasteland alone, but I don’t,” I said.

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