Something to Die For by Kaye Blue

Twelve

Lucas

The walkto headquarters was tense, but for all the wrong reasons. I’d been raised in places like this, had walked among these places like a king.

But Dr. Albert—Angel—hadn’t. She had no business being here, and this could go bad, very bad.

I shouldn’t care.

No matter what, I’d be fine. But I couldn’t shake the tension that was riding me and knew I wouldn’t until this place was just a memory.

I walked inside the main trailer, which was the hub of activity for the compound. It was standard—metal desk, board with maps of the country and state, a weapons rack.

A chuckle threatened to come out, but I pushed it back. This was fucking ridiculous, a bunch of overgrown children playing militia.

To think I’d ever taken this shit seriously.

That I’d sacrificed my freedom for it.

Bile burned at the back of my throat, but I ignored that too and focused on the man who approached.

Not quite six foot, barrel-chested, decked out in fatigues. His gaze didn’t leave mine, and I could see he was taking my measure, trying to decide if he could intimidate me. The moment stretched, but I made no move to speak, and after several drawn-out seconds, he finally spoke.

“Lucas Crowe.” He extended his hand.

“Merlin,” I responded, taking his hand.

“How’d you get out?” he asked.

“Through the door.”

He laughed. “Just walked through the doors of a maximum-security prison, huh? Any other day that’d be the craziest shit I heard. Not today, though, brother.”

I huffed but didn’t otherwise speak.

“Didn’t leave alone, I hear?” he said.

“No,” I responded, not supplying any extra information, though I could tell he wanted me to.

“A friend of yours?” Merlin said.

“No. She’s leverage,” I answered.

I didn’t expand, and Merlin seemed satisfied enough with the answer, or at least uninterested in pushing the issue.

“Looks like the group is doing well under your leadership,” I said after a moment.

“We do all right. Not like with your dad, but we make do,” Merlin said.

My father would have eaten Merlin’s bullshit right up. I didn’t, but Merlin didn’t need to know that.

“Anyway,” I said after another moment, “it’s good to see you, Merlin, but I gotta go. Don’t know when they might come looking for me.”

He laughed. “Have you not been paying attention? They’ve just declared martial law. The president’s gone AWOL. People are eating other people. A prisoner, even a big fish like you, is not on anybody’s radar.”

Something that should have been comforting, but it wasn’t.

Not at all.

“Still, I don’t like being out in the open like this,” I said, pushing back. I didn’t want Merlin to think I was getting too comfortable.

“I get you, but opportunity is knocking.” Merlin’s eyes took on a gleam that I didn’t like at all, but he abruptly switched topics. “How attached are you to that leverage of yours?”

The churn in my gut that had only just started to recede kicked back full force.

“Why do you ask?” I said, my voice even, giving nothing away.

“Well, the white coat suggests she’s a doctor. I don’t really want one of them in my compound, but we might need the care.”

No!

The word was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it in.

“Care?” I frowned. “She patches convicts back together after they shank each other. Not much skill required.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but I doubted the doctor would complain that I wasn’t hyping her talents.

“Whatever. I’ll keep her around for the time being. Let’s go.”

Merlin turned, and I followed. As we approached the Jeep we’d arrived in, Angel walked out of the shed they’d put her in.

“Get in the back,” Merlin said, clearly speaking to her.

She hesitated for just a moment, but then got in. Merlin did, and I did too, and the engine roared to life.

As we drove, it occurred to me that I had just traded one prison for another.

Not the turn of events I’d been hoping for.

I’d always liked to go my own way, and especially wanted to now, but I tried to look at the bright side.

If nothing else, I should be able to get some supplies out of Merlin, things I would need on my way.

I didn’t look at Angel, forced myself not to think about her.

I was sure it wasn’t lost on her that she was in as dangerous a position as she had been before, maybe more so.

Violence and hatred were a way of life for people like Merlin—people like me—and even if he thought he needed her, she’d never be safe with them.

That didn’t sit well with me.

I’d grown up being basted in hatred, but age and time spent locked in that fucking cell had opened my perspective.

And there was the not small fact that no one had ever treated me as kindly as the doctor.

I’d broken my arm when I was a kid, ten, maybe eleven, and my father hadn’t cared that I was in pain, had made me wait until his speech was over before he took me to the doctor.

But Dr. Albert, Angel, had treated me and everyone else with respect, and at the very least, deserved more than whatever fate Merlin and his crew might have had in mind for her.

So it wasn’t my business, and more than anything, I wanted to get out of there, be on my way, but I would make sure no harm came to the doctor.

We drove for twenty minutes, deep into the woods until we reached Merlin’s secondary compound.

It was dark, but I knew there would be a range out back to practice shooting with weapons the authorities wouldn’t approve of. There would also be an obstacle course for agility and strength training, a meeting house, living quarters, storerooms for weapons and food.

“Put her in six,” Merlin said. “Crowe, you’re with me.”

I could see Angel wanted to protest, and I did too, but I didn’t.

If it came down to it, I knew I could take Merlin and a good portion of his men, but I was going to be smart about this, and combat wasn’t smart.

At least not yet.

“Don’t know if we have anything that’ll fit, but let’s get you some clothes and something to eat.”

He led me into what I knew was the compound’s meeting area.

Someone threw fatigues and a shirt at me and nodded at a pair of boots, and after I dressed and relieved myself, I returned and found a bowl of stew sitting on the table.

“It’s not the best, but it’s warm,” Merlin said, gesturing toward stew.

“I’ve been dining at the State Prison’s Café for seven years. I’m sure it’s fine,” I said.

I couldn’t say whether it was or wasn’t. I ate the stew without really tasting it and then looked at Merlin.

“Like I said, I appreciate the hospitality, but what do you want from me?”

“A man who gets right down to business. I like it.”

Merlin smiled then pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket.

He unfolded it, pressed it until the creases were flat, and then pushed it over to me.

“I have a plan, and you’re just the man to help me see it through.”