Page 95 of Property of Bones

The line goes dead.

Spike lowers the phone slowly, jaw tight, muscles bunched. “That son of a bitch is playing games.”

No one speaks. The air in the room feels heavier now, like even the silence is waiting for blood.

Foster finally mutters, “He’s taunting us.”

“Let him,” I say, voice low. “Ghosts don’t scare me.”

Tank glances over, brow furrowed. “No?”

I shake my head. “Ghosts haunt. People feel them. They watch, they linger. You know they’re there even if you don’t see them.”

I look up, voice lowering. “But shadows? Shadows don’t haunt. They don’t announce themselves. They follow you…silent, unnoticed…until you step right into them.”

My fingers twitch, aching for steel.

“And then they strike. Quick. Precise. Some shoot… others carve. Shadows don’t want you afraid. They want youopened.”

I meet Spike’s eyes. “Let the ghosts float around, rattling chains. We’ll be waiting in the dark…with blades.”

“Fucking right,” Skip says. “I fucking love this poetic bastard.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sunny

“We’re going to die, Sunny,” Abby whispers from the darkness.

“We’re not going to die,” I say firmly, running my hands along the walls. “We just need to stay calm and think smart long enough for Jack to find us.”

“We’re in Mexico, Sunny.” Her voice shakes. “I know it. This is the same place the cartel held me last time. And it took Spike three months to find me.”

“If it takes three months, then so be it,” I say. “But when they do find us, we need to still be breathing. I know you’re scared. I am, too. But we have to do our part.”

My fingers trail over cold, unyielding stone. “It feels like a brick room. No seams, no handle, nothing. How the heck did they even put us in here?”

“From up there,” she whispers.

I can’t see her, but I tilt my head back. Pitch black.

“I don’t see anything, Abby.”

“That’s how they did it last time,” she says, voice distant. “There was a trapdoor. Sometimes they opened it to pull me out… mostly just to drop food and water in.”

No wonder she panics in the bunker.

“How would they pull you out?” I ask.

“They’d drop in a rope ladder,” she whispers. “Just give up, Sunny. There’s no way out of here.”

I sigh and feel my way toward her, sliding down to the cold stone floor beside her.

“I’m not giving up,” I say, wrapping an arm around hers. “There may not be a way outnow, but that won’t always be the case.”

“I don’t understand how you’re being so brave,” she says. “You’re acting like this is something you deal with every week.”

“Is panicking going to help us?” I ask gently. “All it does is drain energy and cloud judgment. We need clear heads if we want to survive this. Once I’m back home with Jack,thenI’ll fall apart.”

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