The Taken by A.J. Scudiere

Author:A.J. Scudiere [Scudiere, A.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Griffyn Ink

44

Cage had a bruise on the side of his face. It hadn't yet bloomed full purple yet, but he could feel that it was going to. It pulled every time he spoke, but he worked not to let any of it show.

He'd known from the moment he’d been hauled in here that it was going to be a mess like this.

Wishing he had his gun with him was a strong desire, but also a recipe for disaster. If he had one, then everybody could have one. And these half-starved, angry, crazed fools would have killed everyone in seconds.

Just in case things couldn’t get any more bizarre, he was now standing in the large central room of a cave.

There was only one person here who seemed older than Cage. That was concerning in and of itself. Cage also understood that, given his tall, lanky build, he was often mistaken for younger than he was. It was entirely possible he was getting underestimated. He wanted to let that stand—and pray that it was right—as long as he could.

The one man who was older sat quietly on a mattress in the corner, near him, a floor lamp glowed bright—one of several scattered around the space. His shoulders hunched in as though he might make himself small enough to disappear from the situation . . . and the violence that permeated the space.

One of the teenagers was running the show, and his initial greeting to Cage had been a cuff upside the head as soon as Connor had shoved him in and turned around. Cage had taken the expected move with as much grace as possible.

He'd wanted to get a better lay of the land, see how the group was working. It was clear from the moment he walked in that they'd set some sort of hierarchy. It was also clear that the hierarchy only came out when it was just them. Connor with his gun down the back of his pants clearly ruled over whatever hierarchy existed here.

But Connor had left hours ago.

Cage had been trying to sleep but had to do it with half an eye open. He had no allies here and he knew it.

Now, he was beyond hungry. He sat in the corner, his back against the rough stone wall, another old worn mattress on the floor his only furniture. There were no chairs in here. Probably these boys—because they weren’t men—couldn't be trusted with anything they could pick up and fling around like a weapon.

Cage had made it hard to get behind him and he'd done that on purpose. He needed to see all comers and get as much sleep as possible. Aside from his rough entry, the place had stayed mostly quiet during the day.

The big teenager in charge, his long lanky hair greasy from lack of care, sat with his knees up, forearms resting across the tops, hands dangling as if to say he could afford to not be ready. Cage knew the stance. The kid would glare around the room as the others slept off and on.

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