It's the End of the World as We Know it (Silent Moments Series: Book 4)

Chapter 15

 "You know him?" I asked, my attention shifting between Emori and the beaten man on the floor.

"Baylis!" she spat the name out like a curse, a clear indication of a painful history between them.

The man, Baylis, tried to deny it in a slurred voice, "You don't know me." But his words were weak, unconvincing against Emori's vehement accusation.

"You said you'd kill me!" Emori screamed, her fury unabated. "Well, guess what, planhaka, I'm gonna kill you!"

I had to intervene as Baylis made a feeble attempt to rise. "Hey, hey, hey! Don't move!" My gun was trained on him, a necessary threat to maintain control of the situation.

Baylis, now realizing the gravity of his situation, pleaded, "Just let me go! I'll leave the food, you'll never see me again." But his words fell on deaf ears; the trust had been broken beyond repair.

I turned to Emori, who had slightly calmed down but was still breathing heavily with adrenaline. "Is he alone?" The answer was crucial; we needed to know if we were facing a larger threat.

"Not usually," Emori replied, her voice strained.

As she stepped closer to Baylis, he instinctively recoiled. "Where are the others?" she demanded, her presence commanding and intimidating.

Baylis started to deny knowledge of any accomplices, but Emori's patience had run out. "Stumucha!" she yelled, her foot coming down hard on his face in a sudden, violent act.

"Emori!" I cried out, concerned that she might kill him before we could extract any useful information. "You don't know what he did to me," she growled, her anger palpable and frightening.

"No, I don't," I admitted, "and you can tell me, but right now, we need information." I took a strategic approach, trying to diffuse the immediate threat while acknowledging her pain. "Here, Murphy, take my gun. Now tie him up."

I turned back to Emori, gently placing my hands on her shoulders, offering a moment of human connection amidst the chaos. "There's a medicine cabinet upstairs. Can I fix this?" I asked, hoping to provide some care for her. "Murphy won't let him go anywhere, will you, Murphy?"

Murphy was already preparing to restrain Baylis, his actions efficient and determined. "Not a chance. We're gonna have some fun."

Emori reluctantly agreed to our plan, her anger simmering just below the surface. "Fine, tie him up. But when he's done talking, the kill is mine."

In that tense kitchen, we had to navigate a delicate balance between seeking information, maintaining control, and addressing the deep, personal wounds that Baylis had inflicted on Emori. It was a precarious situation, fraught with danger and emotional turmoil, but necessary for our survival.

***

As I gently tended to one of the cuts on Emori's face, I offered a small smile. "You did more damage than you took."

Her response was immediate and bitter. "Not enough. Not yet." The venom in her voice revealed deep-seated anger and a thirst for revenge.

I couldn't help but stare at her, trying to fathom the depth of pain and rage that Baylis must have inflicted upon her. The old adage, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,' seemed to manifest right before my eyes. My prolonged gaze, however, seemed to provoke her further.

"Don't tell me you never killed for revenge," she spat at me, her eyes blazing with accusation.

I remained silent, acutely aware that my expression might be betraying a sense of judgment I hadn't intended.