Vice

“I’m fine. It hurts to breathe, but I’ll be okay.”

She’s right—it really does hurt to breathe. I wonder how many years being stuck inside the building, inhaling all of that shit has shaved off our lives. More than is fair. Less than I would have gladly traded to make sure she was safe.

“Did you see anyone else in there?” she asks.

“No. Not a soul.” I know what she’s thinking. Fernando. I haven’t seen him since before Ocho knocked me out. I have no idea where the fucker is, and to be honest I don’t want to know. We’ve taken too many risks. I hate the man, and he deserves to die, but waiting around here for him to show his face is a bad idea. It’s time to get the fuck out of here.

“Where are the keys to this thing?” I nod to the Patriot.

“In the maintenance shed,” Natalia tells me. “There’s a lock box on the wall where they keep the keys to all of the vehicles.”

“Show me.”

She leads me to the maintenance shed. I’ve noticed the building before, a decent-sized barn-like thing with a corrugated metal roof, painted green, presumably so it blends in with the surrounding rainforest. Inside, the open space is packed with all of Fernando’s gardening equipment: hedge clippers mounted on the walls; a wood chipper; three expensive looking John Deere lawn mowers; a small tractor, of all things, and a plethora of other random machines that are concealed in the dark. Along the back wall of the shed, a huge pile of chopped wood has been stacked; it almost reaches all the way to the ceiling.

Natalia beelines for a metal box on the wall, which appears to be locked. She steps up onto a block of wood, reaching on top of the box, though, finding the key to open it up, and then she’s rifling through a multitude of labelled vehicle keys, searching for one in particular.

“It’s not here.”

“What about the key for the Humvee?”

“Yes.” She selects the correct set and tosses them to me. “Ocho moved the Humvee, though. I don’t know where he left it.”

“All good. I know where it is.” Or rather, Ocho knows where it is. Once I’ve found him and my sister, all four of us will be able to pile into the vehicle and burn it down the mountain. God knows where they are, though. I’m sure they’ve been watching the house. They’ve probably seen Natalia and me come in here.

We’re about to leave the shed, when a loud metal clanging sound stops us dead. There, in the doorway, a figure stands in silhouette, just as Harrison did in the hallway outside the library. At first I think it’s Ocho, come to find us, but then I notice how tall the figure is. And the hammer in his hands. Looks like I won’t be leaving this mountain without fighting Fernando after all.

“Oh, god.” Natalia sounds petrified. “He’ going to kill you,” she hisses.

“No, he’s not.” My gun is gone. I left that knife behind, stuck in Harrison’s gut. I’m standing in a shed full of chainsaws and hedge trimmers, though. I think I’m going to be okay. Stooping down, I take hold of the closest object I can find: an axe. The handle is worn and smooth, obviously well used, and the edge glints in the darkness, wickedly sharp.

“You were a guest in my house,” Fernando says darkly. “You betrayed my hospitality.”

“Are we playing who’s more pissed at who right now? Because guarantee I’ll win that game.” My voice sounds as cold and empty as Fernando’s does. He takes a step forward, casting his eyes around the inside of the shed. He looks like he’s searching for something—his men, maybe? Or an extra weapon?

“Why would you win, Kechu? I welcomed you with open arms here, when I was told to skin you alive and have you killed by so many people?”

“Does the name Laura Preston mean anything to you?”

Fernando frowns. “No, it does not.”

“Well it should. You kidnapped her and kept her here against her will for years. And she was my sister.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fernando says, smiling. “The women that come here do so willing—”

“Daddy. Don’t.” Natalia looks alarmed. “How can you lie so easily? None of the Servicio are here willingly.”

Fernando shrugs. “Don’t they enjoy the free drugs I give to them? The free food? The free bed? The free clothes?”

The man is fucking certifiable if he thinks he’s doing those poor bastards a favor. Natalia grinds her teeth together, pinning her father in a furious glare. “None of it is free. None of them asked for it, or wants it. They want to go home to their families. They would never have come here voluntarily. I know the truth, I always have. There’s no point trying to hide it from me anymore.”

Fernando considers this. His expression is stormy, his eyes full of madness and anger. “All right. You are an adult now. Perhaps it’s time you knew the ways of the world.”