06/28/2020 Snippet, HOLDOUTS.

Gonna go down to the wire, but it’s almost all done now.


I was halfway to kicking my boots off — I keep my toenails sharper than my fingernails, and maybe the chains on my ankles were more lightly attached to the wall — when the door opened. It was Greta; she held up a key. “Shout,” she said, “and I leave. And then you’re dead.”

That’s one way to get my attention. “Fine,” I replied. “I’ll be good.”

She didn’t move. “If you want to get out of here, with or without your blood slave,” said Sax, “then you have to listen and do what I say after I set you free, too. You’ll die if you don’t, only more slowly than if I just leave you here.”

“You make a lot of death threats for a rescuer, lady,” I half-grumbled. “But sure, fine. Until we’re out of this, you’re the trusty native guide. I swear.” Greta moved forward to unlock my arm and leg cuffs. “Word of advice, though?” I said as I rubbed my wrists. “Never let Lt. Grier hear you call her a ‘blood slave.’ She’d gut you in a heartbeat over that.”