Apocalypse Queen: My Space, My Rules Chapter 101: Hunting Season

Cattle, sheep, pigs. Every last one.

With yesterday's experience under their belts, today went even smoother.

They dug pit traps. Chandler flew the helicopter. Mariella rode shotgun with an AK and drove the sheep straight into the pits.

They used the same trick on the pigs, too.

Over four days, they cleared out nearly every head of livestock on the surrounding hills.

Mariella's storage space now held over 50 pigs, more than 200 sheep, and over 30 bulls.

It was enough meat to last them the rest of their lives.

Five days had passed. Time was up. Mariella pulled out Kingston's phone, used the severed thumb to unlock it, and checked for Connor's reply.

"I have the yacht ready. Where do we make the exchange?" Connor had even attached a photo.

Mariella studied the picture. It was satisfactory. She sent him the coordinates and told him to be there within thirty minutes.

She put the phone away and snapped her fingers at Chandler. "Let's go. Big deal incoming."

...

Connor's yacht, of course, wasn't purchased. It was rented at an exorbitant rate.

Harvey had pulled every string he had, put up his own name as guarantor, and helped the Shepherds secure the rental.

"The plan was Harvey's idea—to use the yacht as bait. The real goal was to draw out the kidnapper."

He'd packed the yacht with hired killers, hidden in every corner. The moment the mystery person stepped aboard, they'd be hit from every angle.

Harvey had been having nightmares. In every one of them, Mariella was alive.

She carved his heart out of his chest, held it up on the tip of a knife, and grinned. "See? I told you. Your heart is black."

Harvey woke drenched in cold sweat, his pulse hammering.

Was the kidnapper Mariella? Was she actually alive?

It was becoming an obsession.

No. 98 was locked down tight—bodyguards everywhere, firearms inside. Harvey couldn't force his way in.

He'd sent people to chat up her patrol guards, fishing for intel. They all said the same thing: Ms. Townsend was fine, just away on a trip.

Harvey couldn't tell what to believe anymore.

This yacht exchange was his all-in gamble.

Even if Mariella were alive, he'd make sure she died again.

...

The small helicopter circled once over Liraelith and then descended toward an open stretch of water on the outskirts.

About six feet above the surface, it hovered in place.

Mariella, already in a wetsuit, used Kingston's phone to send Connor her position.

"Come to this location for the exchange. You'll see your son shortly."

Message sent, she opened the cabin door and fast-roped down into the water.

Chandler, also in a wetsuit, dropped in right behind her.

Mariella swam about 30 feet away, then grabbed the hovering helicopter's tow line and pulled both it and Chandler into her storage space.

The water surface showed nothing but a faint ring of ripples. As if no one had ever been there.

...

Thirty minutes later, a mid-sized yacht cruised to the coordinates Mariella had sent.

Connor dialed his son's number over and over, but every call was unreachable.

What was going on? Was the kidnapper playing games again?

But the yacht was in his hands, and it was loaded with elite killers in every compartment. The moment the target set foot on board, there was no escape.

Connor believed Harvey's plan was airtight. All he had to do was wait.

From inside her storage space, Mariella used her mind power to observe the surface. The yacht had arrived, which meant it was definitely a trap.

She brought Chandler out of the space. They stayed submerged, just a few yards from the yacht's hull. She'd calculated the distance precisely before going in.

Chandler and Mariella glided through the water in total silence.

Hidden underwater, the people above had no chance of detecting them.

Mariella drew a deep breath, focused every ounce of her mental energy, and pressed her hand against the yacht's steel hull. Take it.

A violent wave of dizziness hit her. The mid-sized yacht vanished.

Water rushed to fill the void, instantly forming a massive whirlpool.

Mariella, completely drained, nearly got sucked in. Chandler caught her just in time.

At almost the same instant, every person who'd been hiding inside the yacht was ejected into the water.

Chandler pulled Mariella away through the chaos.

The killers, along with Connor, were all flailing in the water, with absolutely no idea what had just happened.

One second, they'd been sitting inside a yacht. And the next, they were drowning.

Where's the yacht? How had it vanished into thin air? What the hell was going on?

Connor opened his mouth to scream for help, but freezing water poured in. He nearly choked to death on the spot.