Page 122 of Us Deadly Few

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Khalani was lucky her calluses had been so built up.

She swung the pickaxe harder against the sheer rock, wincing as she noticed other prisoners’ hands leaking blood onto their tools. The moans of pain echoed around her like a chorus, but she kept pushing on.

Her eyes kept straying to Reno, who was the epitome of a perfect worker.

He didn’t talk to anyone. Didn’t complain. Didn’t tire.

He wielded the pickaxe like he was born with it, working like a madman.

After several grueling hours, her arms begged to be sliced off. She could barely feel her fingers when the guards signaled for them to get food and water.

She watched Reno leave, barely breaking a sweat. The dead look in his eyes only made her more furiously determined to find Jack and escape.

Takeshi must have been on the same wavelength because hepointed toward the back of the cavern, his sharp eyes honing in on someone.

“There.”

She turned to see Jack sitting next to another prisoner with short, spiky black hair and geometric tattoos covering his neck and hands.

Without hesitation, Khalani and Takeshi made their way forward, ignoring the curious stares from the other prisoners.

“Mind if we sit?” Khalani asked, clutching her bowl tightly as they approached Jack.

“Yes,” the spikey-haired guy prisoner said, barely glancing at her as he devoured his food. He couldn’t have been much older than Khalani but something in his posture made her want to grab a knife.

An untethered tension radiated from him. Slippery. Dangerous.

“Why do you want to sit here?” Jack studied Takeshi with a measured gaze before fixing his attention on Khalani.

“I think we have some mutual friends. They like to gamble—”

“Everyone likes to gamble,” the spiky-haired man interrupted in a harsh voice.

“And they haveblack hearts,” she emphasized, remembering the name of their hide-out.

Jack froze. The other man’s mouth clamped shut, but his glare remained.

“Have a seat,” Jack said coolly, crossing his arms.

Khalani and Takeshi sat on the stone floor, their backs ramrod straight, while Jack and the other man eyed them cautiously.

“So,” she swallowed hard, “We’re happy to finally meet you.”

“Happy?” Jack didn’t take his eyes off Takeshi.

“Well…I bet we’d all be happier if this place had a splash of color, am I right?” she joked, trying to ease the thick tension inthe air, but everyone’s expressions remained sternly blank.

“Perhaps we can start with names,” she suggested, clearing her throat. “I’m Khalani. This is Takeshi.” She gestured to Takeshi, who continued to glare at the men, still as a statue.

“Don’t mind him,” she added. “He was punched in the head when he was younger, so he doesn’t talk much. The irritability is permanent, I’m afraid.”

Takeshi ever so slowly swiveled his glower to her. One made of fire and retribution.

“And you two?” Khalani ignored him. “I already know your name is Jack. What about you?’’ She turned to the spiky-haired prisoner.

“It’s Notyor.”

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