The ax fell again, but it was Levi’s slender neck beneath the blade. Then it was her mama’s, then the rest of her family’s, one after the other, and finally her own.

This crazy fucking Viking was taking everything away from her.

She heard his footsteps, and the ax dragging through the dirt behind him. The light from his cell phone bled through the rust holes in the fender.

“Here, Kitty.” Close enough that he might hear her heart, the insistent little drum that it was. “Here, Kitty-Kitty.”

Blood trickled from the wound in her head. It gathered on her cheekbone and dripped—splash—onto the dirt below. She trembled from the hips out, the reverberations traversing her curved spine and tucked knees, rattling her skull like the lid of a boiling kettle.

The light through the rust holes grew brighter. Kitty heard his wet, hungry breaths, and was sure, suddenly, that he knew exactly where she was. He would pop the hood any moment, and would chop and chop and chop before slamming the hood closed again. And there she’d stay, for weeks, months, until the last few wrecks in this shithole were dragged away.

She clapped her hand tighter to her mouth, allowing only the smallest gap to breathe through.

“Here, Kitty-Kitty.”

Another few steps. He was right next to the Impala. If he simply bent down and peered through the rust holes, he would see her bright, deer-like eyes staring back.

The next moments moved with hypnotic slowness. Johan moved away, then circled back again. He started to strike the various wrecks with the poll of his ax, and each impact boomed like a shotgun blast. He twice whacked the Impala that Kitty was hiding in. Rust fell in lacy sheets. The hood clapped up and down.

Kitty braced herself with her spine and her feet. It took everything not to scream. Johan stomped away. She heard him hammering the vehicles some distance away. Not a safe distance, by any means. After what felt like a long stretch, he met up with Xander and Ruben. It was impossible to tell exactly where they were, or how far away. She saw nothing of their flashlights, but heard their voices clearly enough.

Johan: “I don’t know, man. Fuck!”

Xander: “She probably got out through another hole in the fence.”

Johan: “If she did, then we’ve lost her. For now. Bitch can’t run forever, though.”

Xander: “Think she’ll go to the cops?”

Johan: “Let her. She’s a Black drug runner. I’m a rich white man. What do you think will happen?”

Ruben: “I’m not a rich white man.”

Johan: “I’ve got your back, Ruben, despite the fact that you let her out of your fucking sight!”

Ruben: “I couldn’t follow her skinny ass.”