142

Finn screamed.

The cry of something primordial, a banshee wail, the howl of a dozen dying wolves, a thousand tortured souls, a train whistle shrieking into the mouth of Hell—

And took a breath—

And he screamed again—

A roar of pain and grief and anguish—

for Schofield,

for Biker,

for Luca—

for Kennedy—

for Ray—

for that terrified boy sitting frozen in his blood-soaked closet forever—

the scream ripped through the hangar deck and startled the man standing at the top of the tunnel, causing him to rear back—

Finn surged up the ladder like a geyser—

His arm shot out and over the lip of the magazine and plunged the steel ring knife into Lew Stevens’s right foot.