Chapter 22: On the Trail

The two Gryi looked around at the charred building and billowing black smoke, their keen eyes falling on what was left of Number 3’s corpse.

The desert heat was nothing to them. Their skin was cold as ice beneath their pristinely tailored suits. The boss always demanded that they look their best.

“They were here,” hissed Number 2 as he turned to his leader. “He should have had them. He almost did. What went wrong?”

The boss was going to be furiously displeased.

Number 1 ignored him, sniffing the air. Her wicked tongue darted in and out like a reptile in search of its next feast.

“They burnt him to a crisp,” Number 2 observed, turning on the spot, his red eyes examining the trail of messy foot prints and misplaced dust. “Miserable idiot deserved it.”