She reached for him again. He swung around to the other side again.

Maisie sprang forward, using her body to smash his into the beam. He made a muffled screaming noise.

“Dumbass. I understand that you’ve had a bad couple of days, but if I don’t stick this needle in your arm and get you to Lopez, we’re both going to be in a shitload of trouble. So hold still.”

She jammed the needle into his arm. He whimpered.

“Calm down, you’re fine. You’re welcome, by the way.” She pushed in the liquid and pulled the needle out.

He was breathing heavily, and he turned his head slightly, looking down at where she’d stuck him.

“I need to untie you so I can get you out of here, but I’m not doing it if you’re going to run. So, listen. I’m Maisie Rojas.”

His eyes went wide, like he recognized the name.

“I’m supposed to get you back to Lopez, who is trying to work out a deal with the CDC to get you out of here.”

He took in a sharp breath.

“There are some guys outside taking care of the rest of these jackasses, and trust me, you do not want to see what they will do to you if you make them chase you down. So, I’m going to untie you, and you’re not going to be a pain in my ass. Agreed?”

He slowly nodded.

“Okay.” She stepped back and pulled out her knife. She walked around the beam and cut Lennon loose.

LENNON

LENNON DROPPED HIS arms as the zip tie fell to the ground and stared at the girl in front of him.

He’d seen a picture of Isaac Rojas once—Dr. Lopez’s right-hand man who had killed a lot of people to secure the southern part of the quarantine zone for the Lopez family. Dark hair, six foot three, broad as shit, scary-looking dude.

His daughter was not that.

She was at least a foot shorter than her dad, with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, a bright pink streak running through it. Pushed-up sleeves revealed tattoos on both her arms. Blood dripped from her knuckles, a result of the truly impressive punch she’d delivered to the man still moaning on the ground.

“Are you going to take that off?”

Right. The gag. He yanked it off, tossed it on the ground, and resisted the urge to spit. That handkerchief tasted like it had been to a lot of other places before it was shoved in his mouth.

“You…What was…?” He had too many questions to settle on just one.

“Come on.” She strode to the door. “You can ask Lopez the questions. I’m just your ride.”

“Fr-Franco Lopez?” he stammered.

“Of course Franco Lopez.” She stood at the doorway impatiently. She started to wrap her fingers around the frame, but quickly lowered her hand, the slightest hint of pain crossing her features. “Would you hurry your ass up?”

He blinked, and the girl stepped forward and grabbed his arm with her uninjured hand, pulling him through the door.