Born in Blood

BORN IN BLOODA LOGAN AND SCARLETT THRILLER DAN PADAVONA CONTENTS Get a FREE Book!Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Chapter 32Chapter 33Chapter 34Chapter 35Chapter 36Chapter 37Chapter 38Chapter 39Chapter 40Chapter 41Chapter 42Chapter 43Chapter 44Chapter 45Chapter 46Chapter 47Chapter 48Chapter 49Chapter 50Chapter 51Chapter 52Chapter 53Chapter 54Get a FREE Book!Support Your Favorite AuthorsAcknowledgmentsAbout the Author GET A FREE BOOK! I’m a pretty nice guy once you look past the grisly images in my head. Most of all, I love connecting with awesome readers like you. Join my VIP Reader Group and get a FREE serial killer thriller for your Kindle. Get My Free Book www.danpadavona.com/thriller-readers-vip-group/ 1 Lightning’s claw ripped the sky asunder and drew buckets of rain from the heavens. The man in the prison guard uniform wiped the deluge off his forehead and adjusted the holstered gun resting against his hip. To his back stood a chain-link fence with rolling links of barbed wire fixed across the top. The points tore flesh and turned skin into meat. Every time the sky ignited, he could see the naked man in the bushes, his bare legs doused with rain. The man breathed, but he wouldn’t awaken for another hour. Water sloshed across the ground and turned the entrance into a mud pit. The uniformed man blinked the water away and stared with intent at the parking lot, awaiting the visitor. The attorney was late. If he didn’t show up soon, it would destroy the guard’s plans. Thunder echoed the sky’s fury. Lightning strobed and broke the night, turning all movement into stop-motion photography. Touching the baton on his opposite hip, he swung his attention to the far end of the parking lot. Two headlights cut through the darkness, and a long black sedan jounced over a hole with a splash of water. Was this the person he sought? On his shoulder, the radio squawked with activity. A fight had broken out inside the prison. Fortunately, the guards had contained the scuffle to a single cell, pulling the prisoners apart before a riot occurred. He couldn’t afford a lockdown. Not now. Dressed in the correctional facility uniform, he bounced on his toes to stay alert. He caught movement along the fence a hundred feet away—another guard eyeing the arriving vehicle. This wasn’t a maximum-security prison, rather a facility that contained white-collar criminals the government deemed minor threats, even if they’d robbed clients blind and destroyed families. The interior was a country-club version of a prison. You didn’t serve your penance here unless you could afford a powerful legal team and you hadn’t committed murder. His uniform drenched, the watcher at the gate shifted his jaw. One man inside the prison had caused multiple murders, though the justice system lacked the stomach to prove it. Instead, the reprobate served time because he was corrupt, a lowlife who didn’t think twice about betraying his country. The lawyer who’d driven into the parking lot represented him. Footsteps squishing through mud and water announced the lawyer before the lights at the gate caught his face. The mustached attorney held up a hand to shield his eyes. The guard didn’t wait. He left his position and met the lawyer before he left the parking lot. Rows of correctional facility vehicles towered to either side of the two men, forming a steel and aluminum tunnel. “Name and ID,” the guard ordered. The attorney, who only wanted to reach the entrance where a covered walkway would rescue him from the downpour, cursed. “I haven’t even reached the gate yet. Can’t we do this inside?” “Name and ID.” With a huff, the attorney reached inside his jacket and removed a wallet. “Matthew King. I’m Senator Ewing’s attorney. Your facility is expecting me.” The guard glanced at an itinerary protected by a plastic sheet. His eyes passed over King’s name. “I’m sorry, Mr. King. You’re not on my list.” Bewildered, the lawyer shook the water off his jacket and wiped his face. Lightning flashed. “Check again. My office made this appointment weeks ago, and I confirmed with the head of security before I left.” The guard squinted at the board, ignoring King’s appointment, and maintained a stoic, heartless expression. “I’ll tell you one last time. You’re not on the itinerary, so I can’t allow you inside the gate.” “This is preposterous. The warden will hear about this. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be standing in the unemployment line.” The uniformed man touched his gun, a warning for the attorney to calm down. “Tell you what I’ll do. Let me get on the horn with my boss. If you say you’re on the list, he’ll confirm your name is in his system.” “Then get to it,” the attorney said. “I don’t plan to stand out here all night catching pneumonia.” As the guard lifted the radio to his mouth, the attorney stomped off, seeking refuge from the storm. He leaned against a van with his back to the guard, talking a mile a minute with someone on the phone, no doubt complaining about his treatment. The guard moved on cat’s paws. Even slogging through mud and water, he could move in total silence whenever he wished. From his pocket, he removed the stun gun. He squeezed the trigger, and the attorney jerked and convulsed, falling into the guard’s waiting arms. Another van waited at the end of the row. This vehicle belonged to a sixty-something woman in Virginia, not the prison. The guard opened the rear doors and tossed the attorney in the back. A quick check that nobody had noticed and he entered the van and closed the doors behind him. Hurrying, the guard peeled off the uniform and slipped into the attorney’s clothes. They fit tightly around his chest and arms. The jacket, shirt, and trousers would have to do. From a black kit in the van, the man