The night was colder than he had expected. The freezing air burned in his lungs as he walked out of the bar and he was even thinking about turning around, going back inside and having another beer or ten.
She was already crossing the street and moving away quickly, so he decided to stick to his plan, pulled the collar of his grey leather jacket higher and started following her. He felt a rush as the adrenaline started to flow through his body. Instinctively he reached for the hunting knife with the ten-inch blade underneath his jacket. He always used knives. ​It was his idea of good sportsmanship and he stuck to his ideals although the game got harder these days. It seemed that every woman in this godforsaken town had a taser nowadays, or pepper spray or a gun. The last time he had had to cave in the girl’s head with a brick and smash it into her face a final time for good measure before he could use his knife on her. It was a mess.

The Tomb was located outside of Bradford. It was a former Napalm factory, now a high security facility with unknown purpose run by the government. The good people of Bradford had no clue what was going on inside of the big concrete buildings surrounded by high barbed wire fences. They were told it was none of their business a long time ago, so they simply stopped asking.
Zoë herself thought, they had no business being here. The truth was, she was afraid of being even near this goddamn place. It had been eighteen months since she had joined the Riot Network. The whole concept appeared more hardcore on paper than it turned out to be in real life. The Network only consisted of a handful of college students sharing political memes on Facebook. Every Friday they met in a small cellar just off campus which they called “The Office”. There they discussed their future “operations”, drank cheap beer and slamdanced while Minor Threat or Youth Brigade blasted out of one shitty little speaker.