We’re five miles into the jungle. Nothing out here to hear you but iguanas and insects.”

Gavin pulled desperately against his bonds, the rope biting, rubbing his skin raw. “Wait. I can give you money. I have lots of money.”

“Really?” She walked slowly towards the pickup. “How much to get my life back?”

“Wait…”

“How much to get my sister back?”

“Please…”

“How much to give me peace?”

“It wasn’t me.”

She paused at the open door of the truck. “But you were there. You didn’t stop them. You laughed as they played their games, laughed as they did this.”

Liquid spilled from his bladder as she tapped her ruined features with a gloved hand.

She leaned into the truck and moments later the Dodge began to roll forward. Slowly at first. The slack in the rope tightened within a couple of fear-filled seconds. Gavin rose from the ground, stretched between the vehicle and the tree. He tensed every muscle in his body in a desperate attempt to free himself. The ropes bit ever deeper into his skin. He tried to call out, to beg for release, but the words were caught fast behind the tightening noose. The skin at his ankles ripped first, then something deeper in the joint gave way with an agonising pop. An unbearable pressure invaded his skull, the muscles in his jaws bunching tighter and tighter until one of his molar teeth splintered into jagged shards. Capillaries ruptured in both of his eyes, spreading red tendrils across his fading vision.

The critical structure of his cervical vertebrae held for less than four agony-filled seconds then snapped, severing his spinal cord.

* * *

Ghost watched impassively as the truck rolled, driverless, down the hill, dragging Gavin’s headless corpse behind. Moments later there was a loud thud. The Dodge had met with a tree somewhere on its path.

Pulling back on her sleeve, she exposed the skin of her left forearm. A series of six straight scars lay there like an oversized barcode. Drawing a compact blade from her belt, she added a seventh. Ignoring the stinging warmth, she turned a half-circle until she found what she was looking for.

Gavin’s head had rolled a good fifteen feet down the road. After pulling a heavy-duty refuse sack from her hip pocket, she lifted the grisly trophy by the hair and let it fall into the bag.

9

The girl looked down at her feet as she walked. She could see them moving, knew they were hers, yet could not feel the floor beneath them. Her mouth was hanging open. Stark lights burned above her as she followed with robotic steps the person in front of her. A taste she struggled to identify soured her mouth. Raising her hands to her nose, she inhaled. She smelled like a hospital ward, antiseptic.