There’s a slow and steady rain falling from the sky. That makes things a little more difficult, but it shouldn’t be a problem. I glance across the street and spot Amelia in position, her hood up masking her expression, but I suspect she’s smiling.

Three days have passed since I took her in my killing room. We haven’t done that since, though the pressure and the tension is still very strong between us. We’ve been too busy preparing for this moment.

Amelia picked this stuff up faster than I thought she would. She’s obviously not ready to do anything on her own, not yet at least, but she’ll make for a workable second. Her instructions are simple: hang back, observe, and run if things go bad.

I have the real job.

Mark Sheer, the pedophile bastard, steps out from the coffee shop. He looks both ways down the street, obviously trying to see if I’m following him, before heading off down the block. I fall into step, keeping a fair distance back, staying cautious. On the other side of the street, Amelia begins to move, keeping pace.

Ryan has been following Sheer every night since we last met up with him, and apparently he has been visiting this sex slave brothel more often. Probably the anxiety caused by catching me following him has pushed him to embrace his demons. That’s good for us, since I don’t want to wait too long to take him. As far as I can tell, Sheer is following his usual routine tonight, and is headed toward the west side of town to fuck some underage girl.

And when he does, he’ll lead us right to the bastards.

Sheer walks fast and keeps looking around wildly. He’s so obvious, but most normal people wouldn’t even notice him. He clearly is checking for tails, trying to spot someone following him, but he won’t spot me tonight. I’m not making any mistakes. This is way too important.

I reach into my pocket and clutch the syringe. Amelia knows the plan, and it’s a simple one. When Sheer goes into the brothel, I’ll leave and get the van while Amelia sticks around and watches the entrance. After Sheer leaves the brothel, I sneak up on him, stick him in the neck with the syringe, and then together we hustle his body into the van.

The rain is steady and soon Sheer is forced to put up an umbrella. That actually makes it easier to follow him because his umbrella is a light blue color, very distinct. I pull my head up tighter and keep my distance, watching as the umbrella bobs and weaves through traffic.

We follow him like that for blocks. I’m surprised that he doesn’t take a bus or a cab, but he probably has his reasons. Maybe doesn’t want to risk getting recognized by a driver or something like that. Either way, he slowly makes his way out west, and the city begins to change.

We started in a residential area, but by the time we’ve been walking for a half hour, the population is much less dense. Houses are spread out and there are more industrial buildings all around us. I’m forced to stay as far back as possible because I can’t just blend in with the crowd out here.

Soon, he turns down an alleyway and closes his umbrella. I catch Amelia’s eye and nod at her. I creep forward and watch as Sheer disappears into a building.

It’s an old office building with a “For Rent” sign in the front window. I’m guessing it’s not actually available, since the inside is being used for an illegal sex slave brothel. I make a note of the address then double back to meet with Amelia.

She’s leaning against a stoop, watching me. “Well?” she asks.

“He’s inside.” I point at the building. “In there. The entrance is in an alleyway down the side.”

“Okay.” She looks resolved and absolutely beautiful.

I step forward and gently take her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Are you good?”

“I’m good.” She nods and stares back at me fiercely.

“Okay. I’m getting the van. Stay out of sight.”

I give her one last look before doubling back and walking quickly. The van is parked about eight blocks away, which is lucky. I guessed and parked right in the middle of the western part of the city, hoping that it would be close enough when the time came. As I finally make it to the van and climb inside, that gamble was clearly paying off.

I pull out and drive the eight blocks back to Amelia. As I pull up and slow down, though, she’s nowhere to be seen.

I drive twice around the block, but there’s nothing. Panic threatens to descend, but I keep it at bay. I’ve trained for this, for an impossible event. I have to keep my wits or else risk fucking everything up.

I don’t know where she is. She could have gotten up and ran off, or something could have forced her to move. Of the two, I have to assume that the latter is more likely. I park the van at the corner in a loading zone and put the hazard lights on before heading out on foot.

My heart is pounding as I stand in the middle of the street and look around. Nobody is out and the building that Sheer went into looks totally quiet. Someone could be watching me from a window and I’d never know, but I have to take this risk. I need to find Amelia and figure out what happened.

Fear replaces my panic. What if she did something stupid and got caught? She could be in there, right now, being beaten and hurt. But no, no, that can’t happen, I won’t let that happen. I take a few steps toward the building and have to stop myself.

I don’t know what’s in there. I can’t just go running off. I don’t even have a gun with me tonight. Fuck, I should have brought a gun.

Suddenly, a motion catches my eye. It’s a light blue umbrella opening and closing. I walk fast toward it, and the person holding it disappears into a side alley. I turn left and head down the block then follow the umbrella.

Standing at the end of the alley is Amelia. I nearly pass out from relief as I walk up to her and wrap my arms around her. “You scared the fuck out of me,” I say.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “He left. Almost as soon as you walked away.”

I cock my head at her. “What are you doing with his umbrella?”

She gives me a guilty look then points at the ground. There, crumpled in a heap, is Mark Sheer.

“Shit,” I say then crouch down beside him. He’s alive, though he’s bleeding from a blow to the head. “What happened?”

“I followed him, but he must have seen me, because he ran down into this alley. I don’t think he realized that it was a dead end, but I followed him anyway. When he backed toward the wall, he started yelling at me, cursing.” She frowns and points at a brick lying a few feet away. “I had to hit him.”

“You knocked him out,” I say softly.

“I didn’t want to. But I had to. He was yelling.”

My blood runs cold. I’m suddenly very aware of our situation.

“Get the van,” I say.

“What?”

“Go. Now.” I shove the keys into her hand. “Get it, pull it up as close as you can. Go.”

She nods and quickly leaves. I stand and scout out the area, looking for any witnesses. As far as I can tell, we’re very much alone, which is fortunate. The alley is small and thin with dumpsters in either side. Whatever happened was probably blocked from the street’s view, and it’s likely that nobody heard him yelling.

But they might have. And they could have left already or called the cops.

We have to take him. I can’t just kill him right here in case someone is watching. I pull my hood forward and bend down, pulling Sheer into a sitting position, my arms hooked under his armpits.

As soon as I hear the van pull up, I drag him as fast as I can. My heart is hammering the whole time as we go down the alley. Amelia backs the van slightly into the space, and so all I need to do is throw open the back doors and shove Sheer into the back. Once he’s in, I stop and turn back into the alley. I run over to where the brick Amelia used is and grab it, tossing it into the van as well.

“Drive,” I say to her.

We pull out immediately.

That was fucked. There were too many fucking things that could have gone wrong right there. Someone could have seen Amelia, or me, or both of us. Someone could have gotten all of that on video. Our faces are likely covered by the hoods but still, this is bad, very bad.

We drive in silence for a while. Amelia heads south, heading out of the city. We’ll have to switch soon, since she doesn’t know the way to my property, but it’s more important that we get out of the city first.

“I’m sorry,” she says finally.

“It’s okay,” I say, sighing. “It’s not your fault. You weren’t ready.”

“I thought I was. I just didn’t want to lose him.”

“I should have sent you for the van. I should have taken more time to get you prepared. Hell, I should have done this alone.”

She frowns and stares at the road. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop. It’s my fault.” I climb up into the passenger seat. Sheer lists to the side then falls with a thump to the floor of the van as we hit a pothole.

I reach out and take her hand. She doesn’t look at me, but she squeezes my fingers.

That went about as fucked up and wrong as it possibly could have. But we have him. The pedophile fuck is going to die now, no matter what, and we know the location of the warehouse. I can’t be sure why he left so quickly, but I’m almost certain that’s the place. Fortunately, once we get back to my property, Mark and I can have a little chat.

And I’m sure he’ll tell me everything I want to know.