DEPOT

  The weapons depot loomed ahead, half-buried under rubble and snow. The avalanche had swallowed much of the structure, leaving only jagged walls and a collapsed roof jutting out from the wreckage. Rubble spilled into the streets, forcing anyone passing by to detour around it.

  Remy let out a low whistle. “Bombed to rubble. Appropriate that Crowley took up residence.”

  "He shouldn't mind a few visitors, then." Will didn’t slow his pace, eyes focused on the depot, getting closer with each step. “See any ways in?”

  "We could always try the front door," muttered Becca, "but I don’t think making our interest in this place obvious would be wise."

  Her eyes lingered on the growing crowd nearby, slowly gathering to join the march. Will followed her gaze, his expression tightening as the murmurs of the group began to rise.

  "Let’s circle our way to the back," said Will. "Keep an eye out for a route where we can enter the building under cover."

  Remy and Becca nodded. The trio slipped away from the main road and the crowd, beginning to circle the weapons depot. As they drew closer, the scale of the destruction became more apparent. Scorched walls bore the marks of explosions, and shattered windows revealed the hollow shell within.

  Gang symbols—two dots flanking a dash—were painted across the blackened exterior, a warning that the territory was still claimed despite the depot being abandoned during the chaos of the gang war. While the damage was too extensive for rebuilding, the gang wasn’t about to give up a valuable piece of land.

  While Remy and Becca searched for a way into the depot, Will swept his eyes over the surrounding area, scanning for any signs of movement or hidden observers. A few stragglers lingered near the edges, but they drifted toward the crowd on the main road, paying no attention to them.

  Will’s attention shifted from scanning the area as Becca drew in a sharp breath, pulling his focus to her.

  “I see a way in,” said Becca. She pointed toward a mound of rubble piled against the building. “See that window on the first floor? It’s right beside the mound and hidden from the main street.”

  Will gave the window a long look, evaluating its position. It was tucked out of sight, offering a way in without drawing attention. "Good. Let’s move."

  They began making their way toward the broken-down outer wall. Remy and Becca slipped through, while Will gave the area one last scan to check for any observers. At first, nothing, but then his eyes caught sight of a group of rough-looking men lingering in a side alley, smoking and watching the street. One of them shifted, revealing mottled radiation burns crawling up his neck.

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  Guards? Lookouts? Will couldn’t be sure. The burned man shifted slightly, his gaze beginning to rise as if sensing something, but before he could fully raise his head, Will was gone, disappearing behind a mound of rubble.

  "Watch your step," Remy gave a hushed warning. "There could be buried stray explosives. Don't blow your leg off."

  The trio picked their way carefully through the snow-covered debris, mindful of their footing. A minute later, they stood in the shadow of the towering mound of rubble piled against the depot. Above them, the window on the first floor waited—one step closer to getting inside.

  Remy climbed first, his eyes shining with excitement. So close to their goal, he scrambled up the pile quickly. Will followed, his movements steadier, eyes scanning the surroundings for any threats. Becca brought up the rear, equally alert and cautious. The rubble shifted slightly underfoot, but they reached the window without incident. Remy, unable to contain his eagerness, started to pull himself inside.

  Will’s eyes caught a faint glint in the dim light. “Wait!” he gasped, reaching out and grabbing the back of Remy's coat.

  The brunet froze mid-climb as Will pointed toward a nearly invisible thread stretched taut across the window frame.

  “Shit,” Remy hissed, backing away from the booby-trapped window. Will shaded his eyes and took a quick scan of the room. The tripwire led directly underneath the window. Will stepped forward, crouching in for a closer look. He traced the thin wire, following its path to a crude detonator rigged to a plastic casing tucked against the wall beneath the window.

  His breath caught as he spotted the explosive. Working quickly, Will took out his tools and carefully disarmed the trap. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he secured the wire and neutralized the trigger. He let out a shaky breath. “Alright. Safe now. We can go in.”

  Will climbed through the window first, and Remy and Becca followed. They dropped inside the depot’s dark interior. The stench of ash and oil clung to the air. Shadows stretched across rusted shelves and heaps of broken machinery.

  But what immediately caught their attention were the wires.

  Bombs. Everywhere. Strung across doorways, lining the walls, and hidden under debris. Enough explosives armed and ready to blow the entire warehouse to kingdom come.

  Becca gasped, and Remy sucked in a breath.

  “Mad! Insane!” Remy choked out. “A stray breeze will set this off before any intruder!”

  Will's jaw tightened as he brought out his gun. He checked the chamber, cocked it, and engaged the safety. Remy and Becca exchanged a tense look before readying their weapons as well.

  The trio moved cautiously through the dimly lit room, their muzzle lights cutting through the shadows. The faint glow illuminated the chaos around them—rusted equipment, debris, and tripwires webbed around them like a tapestry spun by a drunken spider. Every time they caught the light, a shiver ran down Will's spine.

  Reaching the stairs, they paused. Will knelt and ran his fingers along the first step. Solid stone—no pressure plates. He exhaled softly, gesturing for the others to follow. The three pairs of eyes scanned the surroundings as they ascended, their weapons at the ready.

  Halfway up, Will raised his hand. They froze. He tapped his ear, signaling them to listen. Faint, distorted voices drifted through the stairwell. Ranting. Raving. Angry yells carried on the stale air.

  Will and Remy exchanged a wary glance, and Becca gave them a firm nod. They pressed forward.

  At the top of the stairs, they stepped into a cavernous room. It was almost completely bare. The depot’s control center had been stripped of most of its equipment, leaving only a single workstation powered on. Multiple screens flashed streams of scrolling data, bathing the room in an eerie glow.

  And there, pacing in frantic circles, was Crowley.

  +10 Chapters

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