Page 132 of Johnny

They shove them up against the lock on the door, hastily fucking with wires.

“Do it,” Johnny says.

And that’s when I realize what she’s carrying.

Explosives.

Johnny tugs me backwards, almost pulling me off my feet, and then—

Boom!

The door is open and everyone around me rushes forward.

Someone grabs my arm. I turn, expecting it to be Johnny, but when the cloud of smoke dissipates

enough to see, I realize it’s not him. It’s one of Logan’s men.

He grips my arm tight. Like… way too tight. Even under the heavy fabric of the shirt I can feel the

bruise forming on my skin.

“Hey!” I say, trying to jerk away.

But he just grips me harder and pulls me inside the building.

This is when I realize—he’s on to me.

Johnny Boston is on to me. He knows I lied. He knows I lied about everything.

Still, there’s no time to think about that. Too much going on. Too many people. Shooting, and

yelling, and I realize I’m yelling too.

“What are you doing?” I scream. “We’re just looking for maps!”

But nobody cares about me. Or it’s possible they can’t hear me because there’s so much noise in

the small confined space of the first hallway.

I’m tugged along. Johnny is yelling up ahead. Loud, angry threats spill out of his mouth when I’m

pulled into the lab.

Johnny is holding a woman captive in his firm grip. A syringe pointed up at her neck. “You want

this? Huh?” He’s asking her. She’s shaking her head vehemently. “Me either. But that didn’t stop you

from trying to stick it in my neck, did it?”

“Please,” she squeaks. “You’re not supposed to be here! It was just a sedative! You’re not—”

Johnny pushes her aside, looks at the syringe for a moment, then spies a cap on the floor at his feet.

He caps the needle, shoves it into a side pocket of his pants, and yells, “Take off those fucking masks

and those fucking veils! Right the fuck now,” he commands. “I want to see all your sick faces!”

Everyone in the room takes off their white masks. The two women also remove their veils. They’re