CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN – BLESSED OBLIVION

Looping the wristband on, Kayla's blood ran cold as she registered the onboard schematics. Roughly half a kilometer ahead lay a hardened sub-basement marked SECURE BUNKER, with the only access point behind a heavily enforced blast door labeled CONTAINMENT CORE. And leading directly off the core...was a separate quarantine cell. Her throat constricted with dread as the realization set in - Lance was definitely being held in that isolated containment cell, while the remainder of Remington's forces battled with Rawlins for control of the outer compound. The smug bastard had given himself the perfect ace-in-the-hole for his twisted bargaining game - the only person with access to his prized hostage. As if on cue, that smarmy, distorted drawl echoed through the corridor, rattling her very bones with its depraved smugness. "Well I do declare, it appears our lil' outnumbered cavalry's seemin' to meet some difficulties in securin' my humble outpost. Y'all sure did give it your star-span