Chapter 3

Jerry struggled to his feet and jumped into the deep pit.

Exposed rebar sliced into his skin. Blood dripped down, staining the gray dirt a dark red.

He clenched his teeth and tried to grab the rocks with his mouth, but they were bigger than his jaw. There was no way he could bite them.

He forced his mouth open anyway. His jaw dislocated from the strain, and blood mixed with saliva as it poured down his chin.

"Jerry! Stop!" I screamed until my throat tore, tears blurring everything.

But Jerry kept going.

Digby watched him suffer, not with pity, but with growing impatience.

"Hurry up! How long is this supposed to take?" He started barking at the guards. "I've changed my mind. Tie that crazy woman and that idiot together and set them in front of the bulldozer. Mr. Gray said this land has to be flattened today."

My blood went cold.

Several guards roughly bound Jerry and me with thick wire and strapped us to the front of the massive bulldozer. The steel treads pressed against my back.

The engine roared to life. Black smoke swallowed us whole.

Jerry shook violently, terrified, but he wrapped his arms around me, trying to steady me instead.

"Tiff… Don't be scared… Don't be scared…" he mumbled, his words slurred.

Then, all of a sudden, he pointed at my grandfather's body.

"They fed… Grandpa… medicine…"

My entire body jolted.

My grandfather had always been strong. How could he have died so suddenly? Had his death been tied to Marshall and the rest of them?

That thought detonated something inside me. I forced my wrist out of alignment, using a joint-dislocation technique.

The pain was blinding, but the wire slipped loose. I snapped the joint back into place with my other hand.

I reached my ankle, pulled out the Swiss Army knife strapped there, and cut through the restraints. I grabbed Jerry and rolled away just as the bulldozer lunged forward.

The steel tread scraped past my head, tearing out a chunk of my hair. Blood seeped down my scalp.

I ignored the pain, charged the cab, and kicked the driver out of the seat.

He screamed as he hit the ground.

Digby's face twisted in shock. He shouted at the guards, "All of you, go! Kill her! Mr. Gray will cover it. Mr. Gray wants her dead!"

More than ten guards rushed toward us, steel pipes and batons raised.

I held Jerry tight as we were swallowed again by the crowd.

A steel pipe slammed into my back. I collapsed.

That was when my hand brushed against the satellite phone at my waist. The call connected automatically to the private line of my commander, Henry Kinsman.

"Tiffany," he said. "What's going on?"