Chapter 27

At the expense of Carter’s life.

Talbot was right. The leading containers had been too easy to open. Someone had set them in place so anyone who stumbled into the warehouse would need to fight for what they took. Another group might have planned to return, or someone had designed the trap for fun. In this sick world, any scenario was possible.

They were one man less as a result, and by the time they made it back to the compound, Talbot ceased speaking, refused to answer questions. Might be a result of the pain, though. A ragged edge on one of the containers had sliced Talbot’s forearm from elbow to wrist; pure luck the gash wasn’t too deep, and not near his arteries. The laceration made Mason’s recent injuries more like scratches. No sooner did they stop the car than Mason shouted for Miles. He refused to talk to anyone until the doc led Talbot away.