Antony fires at the reinforced door and manages to force it. I find Dre cornered, hunched between shelves full of frozen meat. His hands shake and sweat pearls on his forehead despite the glacial cold. When he tilts his chin toward me, his sunken eyes widen with terror. I savor the fear that has been devouring him for a month.
In a last instinct to survive, he raises his weapon at me. Without hesitation, I point and shoot his hand. His blood-curdling scream almost makes me laugh, if not for the rage consuming me. He still tries to back away, trembling, pressing himself against the frozen wall, but in vain. In two steps I’m on him and my hand clamps brutally around his throat. Without scruples, I drag him to the ovens still on, which give off a spicy but charred aroma from the chicken left
