Kitty lowered her head, but looked up again when Luke spoke to her. His voice rattled and cracked. Kitty couldn’t tell if he looked defeated, or had found some measure of peace. The ghosts in his face, which she’d always known to be there, had been chased away.

“Don’t watch, Kitty,” he said. “Whatever happens, don’t watch.”

Tera’s Beretta was fully loaded and she had a spare magazine in her back pocket. Thirty rounds in total, but she hoped not to have to use a single one of them. Her strategy was to approach under cover of darkness, to first observe, then act. She would only use her gun if there was no other option.

She had detoured briefly—followed her app off-road and located Luke’s car, beaten out of shape, lying on its side with its fluids soaked into the desert floor and its windshield removed. There was no sign of Luke, as she suspected, only splashes of blood both inside the car and out. She found multiple boot prints, and two sets of tire tracks heading west. A quick look at the GPS on her phone confirmed they were heading in the direction of the Rattlesnake Hotel.

Tera followed them to the main road. She drove to within two hundred yards of the hotel, then killed the headlights. The night swallowed her car and she proceeded at a crawl, feeling the smooth blacktop, adjusting her line whenever her tires rumbled onto the shoulder. Tera continued like this for another hundred yards or so, then pulled over and cut the engine. She could walk from here without being seen.

Advancing across the parking lot, Tera noticed a glimmer of light beyond the main entrance. There were two vehicles parked outside: Johan’s beaten-to-shit Mustang, and Ruben’s Toyota Tundra, also damaged. (They’d clearly gotten into a fight with Luke’s underpowered Dodge, and come out on top.) Tera crept behind them, avoiding the entrance in case she activated the automatic doors and inadvertently announced her arrival. She edged the shadows and approached a tall, narrow window that offered a view across the expansive lobby. The lights were dim, flickering constantly. She saw Johan with an ornamental ax propped on one shoulder, and Xander, aiming a pistol at Luke and Kitty. Not that they were going anywhere. They stood, both of them, bruised and beaten, their hands tied behind their backs.

“Son of a bitch,” Tera said.