[b]Chapter Eight[/b]
Thank Q Very Mart.
It's an ugly building. Small, half underground, and plastered with badly made ads. Chips. Five dollars. A tub of ice cream. Ten dollars. Instant noodle value pack. Fifteen dollars. Fresh assorted meats. Three dollars per kilo.
You try not to think about that as you climb out of Vicky's car. Around you, the pack is assembling, their howls ringing in your ears. Strong, interwoven, and angry. You can feel Addie's need to hurt whoever did this, burning beside you like a fire. You can sense the strength coiled in Vicky's muscles, the cool calm focus of her mind. She's ready. So is Marco, Terry, Leo, Marta... Elma is nervous, desperate to get her granddaughter back. Ed is nervous for a different reason, though he's not broadcasting what exactly that reason is. Despite it, he's as determined as the rest of them. Together. Safe. Strong. You know the place of each and every member as they fall into a messy formation around you. Leaderless, rudderless, but united.
hunthunthunthunt
killkillkillkillkillkill
togethertogethertogethertogether
Let's get this motherfucker.
You're not sure who said it. But you add your own voice to the vicious chorus of agreement.
As one, you move.
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