As my hands reached for the hood, I knew that whoever had pulled me out wasn’t Six. Why hadn’t they identified themselves? And how did they get me out wihout climbing into the van?
I pulled the hood away.
I was alone. There was no one watching me, no one waiting to ask if I was okay. Whoever had helped me had gone.
But my eyes were drawn to the scene around me. There were dead bodies scattered over the ground. One was slumped against the van, which was riddled with bullet indentations and spattered with blood. Some of them had been shot. The rest had been beaten to death. I recognised the couple I’d passed before among the dead.
They were all armed and trained. They were organised. So who took them down? And why didn’t they let me see them?