Karma planed to never kill anyone again.
She was going to leave the group of assassins she thought of as family, and never look back.
However, to save her step-brother she would have to take one last job.
For this hit she would need an extra gun...
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*Chapter 3*
11 Years Later...
"Damn, my luck is running low today," Karma muttered as her phone slipped out of her hand. The cell sank into the oil-filled ocean water lapping against her small one-man inflatable boat. "You'd think the residents would give a fuck about Florida. No wonder no one lives here."
Swearing silently, she dug out another phone and typed in the current year, Ice Year Twelve, and the time. It was 1:05 a.m.
The phone took a few minutes to connect to the nearest cell tower still emitting a signal. When all the things on the screen looked correct, she tied off her boat. Satisfied her new cell would update, she shoved it into the hidden pocket of her black one-piece bodysuit. Karma pushed the worn green sack onto her back as she climbed up through the hole in the floor above her head to her temporary hideout.
As soon as she was inside the forgotten seaside bungalow, she paused. Her hands carefully removed her pack, and she found a safe place to set it down. She checked her cell again. Her phone was loading. She breathed a sigh of relief that her phone still worked here in Florida. When she moved on, it would be out of service because of the ice knocking down yet another service tower. She glanced down at the blinking screen. She would use the cell for as long as she could, but then she would have to trash it before leaving her decaying ocean lair.
After she pocketed her phone a second time, she looked around the small damp room she. Her eyes accepted the darkness like daytime. The night vision was a strange gift, but she never questioned the ability. Instead, in the dark, she was simply pleased that she could double-check all entrances were safe, and all her traps were in place.
When she completed her task, she picked up her bag and proceeded down the narrow hall to what some would've called the kitchen. As she reached the small, moldy room, she dumped the canned food on a short metal table. She then looked around for her stepbrother.
It had been one month since Tad had appeared on her doorstep. She had to admit it was so far so good. That's what made her nervous. She waited for everything to fall apart. When it came to her wayward sibling, trouble was always expected.
When Tad was nowhere to be found, she headed to the main living space of the dilapidated house.
As she entered the living room, the building swayed. The structure had long ago become a dangerous place, which was precisely why she liked it. The house was once a fancy home for the rich on a beautiful coast near the ocean. Now the house was on worn stilts above black murky water. This was no place anyone would venture and that meant no one would come looking for her here.
Karma found her favorite seat situated over a decent place on the floor. The chair was inviting, and she sank onto the cushion. She hadn't slept in two days. The idea of some well-deserved rest was too tempting to pass up. She would look for Tad later. She hoped he hadn't gotten into trouble wherever he was.
