Page 86 of (Mostly) Human Resources

The initials E. H. written on the tag in sharpie. One shoulder strap torn, and a dark stain marring the bottom of the bag.

“He can’t be—”

“I took it off one of the … It’s him.”

She looked back to where she knew the bodies were piled in the dark and sank to her knees. “He shouldn’t have been here. He should have stayed put.” A pathetic sound, something between a sob and a whimper, slipped out.

Nic’s arms wrapped around her and tried to quiet her as gently as he could, but she was lost to the emotional upheaval.

It was all her fault. Elliot had been there because of her. He had beenheremployee,herresponsibility, and she had let him die a horrible, cruel death. He was lost, and there wasn’t even a full body for them to bring home. She would have to call his family, his grandmother, she would have to send the report that would break her the same way it had broken Alexys’s mother, and it would beher fault.The weight of what she had done crushed her as she clutched Elliot’s backpack to her chest.

“It’s all my fault,” Alexys whispered, her voice raw and thick as tears tumbled down her cheeks.

Nic ran a soothing hand up and down her back. “You know that’s not true.”

She shook her head. “He wasmyresponsibility. I was supposed to keep himsafe.”

“He’s an adult, Keane. He made the choice to come here even though you told him not to.” He frowned as she shook her head. “Listen to me, none of this was your fault. Entity makes the risks of the job very clear. Those risks, this job, and the monsters that come with it are completely out of your control. You did the best you could.”

Had she? Alexys looked down at Elliot’s backpack. The still-wet blood stained her jeans and her hands. The guilt was overwhelming, and no matter how hard Nic tried to assuage it, Alexys feared it might drown her. She knew they were vulnerable, sat on the floor of the cave where the Hollow Walker could return at any moment, but she found it hard to care.

She opened her mouth to ask Nic what to do, to seek some sort of comfort from the person who was always right, who had all the answers, but she was cut off by the sound of footsteps echoing through the mine tunnel. Not the shuffling, heavy steps of the Hollow Walker, but the light, swift sound of several sets of human feet.

Panic welled up inside her. They didn’t have time to hide, or to even stand from their place on the floor, before a group of people walked into the room.

CHAPTER 45

“Sometimes, I find myself wondering if the monsters we hunt are really the worst thing out there. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s the people we should be most afraid of.”

Journals of Reaper J. T. Cross

The people now standing in the middle of the cavern gave off the most cult-ish vibes she had ever seen.

Probably because they were, in fact, part of a cult.

They were dressed in long black cloaks. Hoods pulled up over their heads and obscuring their faces, they shuffled into the room and stood silently.

Alexys hoped desperately that whatever they were doing down here was harmless, and had nothing to do with the Hollow Walker, but she knew her luck up to that point had been nothing less than terrible. The newcomers were silent, and despite being unable to see their faces, she could tell they were unsurprised by the horror scattered around them. Whoever they were, they did not flinch or speak at the sight of mangled dead bodies.

She stayed quietly next to Nic, who pressed them both against the rough rock wall. For a moment, no one spoke, no one moved, and then, someone stepped forward.

“Who are you?” She wasn’t sure which one of the newcomers spoke, but the person had a distinctly feminine voice. Light and breathy, like a voice caught permanently between a whisper and a song. “What are you doing here?”

Nic stepped forward, revealing himself, and by extension, Alexys, who was clinging to his right arm.

“Funny, I could be asking you the same question,” Nic quipped.

“Didherbeast bring you?” This time, the one who spoke lowered their hood. She had the most impressive head of auburn curls Alexys had ever seen, and the coldest pair of eyes to match. The woman’s mouth was pinched, and her nose was too small for her face. In contrast to her companion, her voice was sharp and echoed through the room with a twang heavily accentuating her words. She frowned at them. “She’s only supposed to send us one a month.”

Things started clicking in Alexys’s mind: an ancient creature rumored to be made of magic; the only witch in that part of the mountains; the fingers in Opal’s kitchen, and the fingers missing from the severed hand in the cave; the whistling Elliot had heard which drew him out of the safety of Opal’s home; the way Opal let Alexys venture not once but twice into the godforsaken wilderness behind her house.

The death omens, the finger bones, thewitch.

Alexys looked out at the people before her as the last of them lowered their hoods.

Four women and two men gathered in their black robes and their cruel expressions, and Alexys knew what they were there for.

An empty, cold calm began to settle over her the moment she realized Opal had sent Elliot to his death. She let Elliot’s backpack fall to the dirt and stepped up beside Nic. A bitter taste filled her mouth.