Chapter 21
"Hello?"
A woman's voice. Gentle, clear, carrying the soft drowsiness of someone just waking up.
All of Evelyn's words stuck in her throat. She recognized it—Marigold.
"Who is this?" Marigold asked again. Water running in the background.
"...I'm looking for Mr. Perkins." Evelyn heard her own voice come out dry.
"Matthew's in the shower. If there's something, I can pass along the message." Marigold's tone was natural, effortless.
Evelyn gripped the phone, her fingertips white with pressure.
Shower sounds. Late at night. His fiancée answering his phone...
What more did she need to understand?
That tiny sliver of hope born from desperation—crushed to dust in this moment.
"Sorry," she heard herself say, her voice oddly calm. "Wrong number."
Without waiting for a response, she hung up.
The screen went dark, reflecting her pale face.
In the end, she could only rely on herself.
"BANG—!"
A massive crash—the iron door was pried open a crack!
Several hands reached through the gap, desperately trying to dislodge the metal rod jamming it.
No more time.
Evelyn scanned the space, her gaze locking on stacked machinery and equipment.
Ignoring the pain in her ankle, she toppled a rusted metal shelf in front of the door, creating a makeshift barricade. It wouldn't hold long, but it bought her seconds.
Then she looked up at the beams overhead, about ten to twelve feet high, covered in dust and cobwebs.
She took a deep breath and, using hands and feet, struggled up to the nearest beam.
Then, holding her breath, she let the beam's shadow swallow her.
Almost immediately, the barricade was shoved aside and seven or eight men burst in cursing.
The two kidnappers from the car led the pack, along with Johnson gripping a steel pipe, his face twisted with rage.
"Where the hell is she?! Search! Drag her out!" Johnson roared.
The warehouse was big, but there weren't many hiding spots.
The group spread out, flashlights sweeping randomly, searching behind crates and machinery.
Evelyn lay flat on the beam, completely still, fingers lightly gripping the metal rod at her waist.
A scrawny guy wandered beneath her, muttering "fucking bad luck."
Now!
Evelyn saw her chance and silently slid down, then used every ounce of strength to strike the back of his neck!
He made a muffled grunt and crumpled.
Evelyn quickly dragged him behind a pile of junk and switched off his fallen flashlight. The whole thing took less than ten seconds.
Like a cat in the darkness, she used the shadows of debris to move again.
The second isolated guy was smoking in a corner. Evelyn approached from behind and took him down the same way.
Third, fourth...
With each one she handled, her mind grew calmer, her movements more efficient.
Fear gave way to focus. She knew she was walking on a knife's edge—one mistake and it was over.
But four remained, including Johnson.
They seemed to sense something was wrong and started calling out to each other, voices wary.
"Jimmy? Answer me!"
"Skinny! Where the fuck are you?!"
Evelyn hid behind a large machine, breathing shallow.
Her wrist wound had reopened from the exertion, blood seeping out. Her strength was draining fast.
Can't stall anymore.
She saw one guy walking alone toward a circuit breaker panel in the back of the warehouse, probably to check the wiring.
Her chance.
She gripped the rod and quietly followed. Just as he bent to check the panel, she struck—
But this time he seemed to sense it and dodged to the side!
The rod smashed into his shoulder blade with a sickening thud, but didn't knock him out.
"Shit! She's here!" The guy screamed while grabbing the rod with his other hand!
Evelyn's heart sank. She tried to pull back her weapon, but he held tight.
Footsteps rapidly closed in from other directions!
Johnson and two others heard the commotion and came charging over, faces vicious.
Four against one.
She was cornered between the machine and the wall. Nowhere left to run.
The injured guy clutched his shoulder, glaring at her viciously, kicking the rod away.
Johnson was panting hard, eyes full of hate. "Run! Go ahead, keep running! You bitch, you dare mess with my guys!"
Evelyn's back pressed against the cold wall. Her hand found a rusty short metal spike that had fallen from the machinery.
She gripped it hard, knuckles white.
Her gaze swept over the four men closing in on her. She knew this time she might not make it out.
Despair swallowed her instantly. But within that cold darkness, a nearly insane resolve ignited.
She gently placed one hand over her belly.
I'm sorry, baby. Mommy might... not be able to protect you.
But Mommy won't let them off easy.
Just as Johnson reached out with a twisted grin to grab her hair—
Suddenly, several blinding lights shot through the damaged warehouse door!
Engine roar growing closer, a vehicle smashed through and barreled toward them.
"Who the hell?!" Johnson whirled around in alarm.
Through the shifting lights and shadows, a figure stepped out of the vehicle, backlit, radiating icy menace.
Behind him, several men in black moved with professional precision.
The newcomer's gaze was sharp as lightning, instantly locking onto Evelyn in the corner and the four threatening men in front of her.
Zeal.
Evelyn's taut nerves suddenly went slack at the sight of that familiar face.
Zeal didn't waste words. He simply raised his hand and gestured forward. "Clean this up."
The men behind him pounced like leopards, their movements professional and brutal, targeting Johnson's crew.
The situation instantly reversed. Screams and the sounds of impact exploded through the empty warehouse.
Zeal walked straight toward Evelyn, his stride urgent but steady.
He saw the blood on her and his pupils contracted.
"Evelyn!" He reached her, extending his hand to help but hesitating, afraid of touching her wounds.
Evelyn looked at him, tried to speak, but only opened her mouth.
The strength and consciousness she'd been forcing suddenly drained completely.
Her body swayed like a puppet with cut strings, and she collapsed forward.