York didn’t get to meet a member of the Lindville family.
For a nobody like him, an audience with a Lindville was nothing more than a fantasy.
A tiger guard led him across the grounds to a wide stretch of lawn where a crowd of animals had already gathered, about a dozen or so.
York scanned them quickly.
Most were medium-sized predators.
Only a handful qualified as truly large.
They stood in loose clusters, keeping their distance from one another, exchanging wary glances.
The air between them hummed with mutual suspicion.
These animals were here for the same reason he was, the Dark Web posting.
The difference was, they’d come in groups.
Safety in numbers.
Backup if things went south.
York had come alone.
That made him the outlier.
And the most vulnerable.
Lindville family was recruiting perimeter guards.
According to Weselton, they’d been at it for about a week now.
There had been casualties, but only a few.
And every single one of the injured had been a slacker trying to coast through on luck alone.
All things considered, the pay was good and the work was light.
York was confident.
With his abilities, getting through this job safely shouldn’t be a problem.
Besides, what were the odds?
It wasn’t like he’d show up for one day and have everything go straight to hell, right?
The tiger guard’s voice cut through his thoughts, cold and clipped.
“Stay here.
A leopard will come by to register your names and distribute equipment.
Don’t do anything stupid.” “Understood.” York walked toward the assembly.
A few animals noticed his approach immediately.
Low mutters rippled through the group.
“Look at that.
Another dead man walking.” “You really think this money comes easy?
Every stray cat and alley mutt thinks they can waltz in and collect.” York let the words slide off him.
He found an empty corner and settled in.
His plan was straightforward: get through one night, grab his pay, and disappear.
No heroics.
No unnecessary attention.
The others were thinking along the same lines.
Soon enough, they lost interest in him entirely.
The sky deepened into dusk.
York found himself staring blankly at a massive carp swimming lazy circles in a nearby pond.
His stomach growled.
It had been nearly twelve hours since his last meal.
He was just starting to weigh the risks of sneaking a fish and roasting it over a fire when a sharp command cracked through the air.
“Silence!” Every head snapped toward the source.
A leopard stood at the edge of the lawn on a raised walkway.
He wore tactical gear, hands clasped behind his back, chest thrust forward.
The raw menace rolling off him was impossible to miss.
Behind him stood a gray wolf in identical uniform, cradling a large crate against his chest.
The crowd went dead quiet.
The leopard’s razor-sharp gaze swept across the gathered animals.
Most dropped their eyes immediately, unable to withstand the weight of his stare.
When his eyes found York, they lingered, just for a moment.
A flicker of undisguised contempt curled across his features.
“Before we get to business, let me make one thing perfectly clear.” His voice was steel wrapped in gravel.
“If you’re here to slack off, turn around and leave now.
Because if you die on my watch, nobody’s coming to scrape you off the ground.” Almost in unison, every pair of eyes swiveled toward York.
Mockery.
Disdain.
Barely concealed glee at someone else’s misfortune.
York noticed the sudden attention.
He turned and looked behind him, genuinely confused.
“Weird.
There’s nothing there.
Why’s everyone staring at me?” “…” The complex blend of expressions collapsed into a single, unified look of deadpan disbelief.
A vein bulged visibly on the leopard’s forehead.
‘Who the hell let this imbecile in?’ He wanted to boot York out on the spot.
But he swallowed the impulse.
With so many animals watching, singling out one recruit would trigger a crisis of trust.
They’d wonder if the job was a trap, if he was looking for scapegoats.
For now, Lindville Manor needed warm bodies at the gates.
They were desperate.
Critically understaffed.
An idiot would do.
At least he’d take the first bullet.
Finn drew a slow breath, steadying himself.
“I’m Finn, head of security for the Lindville estate.
You’ll address me as Captain.” “I’ll keep this brief.
Your job is to guard the outer perimeter.
Any irregularities, you report them immediately over the walkie-talkie.” “Now.
Line up for your gear.” The animals surged forward before he’d even finished speaking.
York, due to his smaller frame, got shoved to the back of the line.
The equipment was basic: a stun baton, a walkie-talkie, and a bulletproof vest so thin it felt like paper.
When York finally reached the front, Finn stepped directly into his path.
“Hey.
Little guy.” He reached out and jammed a finger hard against York’s chest, leaning in close.
His voice dropped to a low growl.
“Don’t let me catch you slacking off.
I’ll have my eyes on you.” York met his gaze without flinching.
His voice came out steady, not defiant, not submissive.
Just calm.
“Don’t worry, Captain.
I’ll handle my post.” Finn snorted.
“See that you do.” He turned to address the rest.
“Follow me.
I’ll take you to your posts.
My men will patrol at irregular intervals, don’t think you can hide from us.” “Sir, yes, sir!” The group fell into formation behind Finn and marched off in a long, winding column.
They were scattered across the estate, some stationed in plain sight, others tucked into hidden positions.
York drew the short straw.
His post was a remote back gate, far more dilapidated than the main entrance.
The iron bars were spotted with rust.
Weeds choked the ground around them.
After Finn and the others departed, the world seemed to swallow itself in silence.
So quiet that York could hear each individual leaf rustling in the breeze.
Ahead of him stretched a dense patch of forest, so thick that even moonlight couldn’t penetrate its depths.
Suddenly, a roar ripped through the night.
Primal.
Unidentifiable.
Then it vanished as quickly as it had come.
Any ordinary person, stranded alone in a place like this, would have bolted in sheer terror.
But York had nerves of steel.
Instead of fear, he found himself analyzing the sound.
“That…
sounds like a monkey.
Short call, high pitch.
Probably startled by something.” He leaned back against the gateframe, stretching his arms over his head.
“Just make it to sunrise.
Grab the cash.
And I’m out.” The minutes stretched into what felt like hours.
The patrols Finn had promised?
York never saw a single one.
He was tilting his head back, staring up at the moon and wondering idly if he could spot the mood rabbit up there, when the walkie-talkie on his chest suddenly screeched with static.
Then, a frantic voice, raw with panic.
“*Report!
Multiple unidentified vehicles approaching on the main road!*” Finn’s voice cut through immediately, sharp and controlled.
“*How many?
Can you intercept?*” “*Th-there’s five of them.
I’ll try t–*” “…” A few seconds of silence.
Then, a series of muffled thuds.
York’s stomach dropped.
A cold knot of dread tightened in his chest.
“*Dammit!
They’re shooting!
Reggie’s down!
Need backup!
Need backup!
Need…*” The transmission cut out.
A new voice took over the channel.
Unfamiliar.
Cold.
Smug.
“*Tell Lindville to surrender.
Resistance is pointless.
None of you are getting out alive.*” ————•★•————★ Author Note: Thanks for reading!
(And a review too.
Thanks 🪻🪻) P@treaon: Blueduck14