Retribution: The Race Series, #4

By Joan De La Haye

The stakes are higher than ever, and the quest for vengeance hangs in the balance.

Having narrowly escaped a deadly confrontation with Snezhana, Joanna finds herself back on the very island where her nightmare began. With her life on the line, she must navigate a treacherous landscape haunted by the wholesale slaughter of The Race, the sadistic game that has become a symbol of depravity and power.

In "Retribution," Joanna confronts not only the physical threats lurking around every corner but also the relentless machinations of The Organisation, the sinister force responsible for orchestrating The Race. As she fights for survival, she must also face Elena's unquenchable thirst for revenge—a relentless pursuit fuelled by hatred and desperation.

Can Joanna outwit her pursuers and uncover the secrets that lie at the heart of The Organisation's nefarious plans? Delving deeper into the dark underbelly of this twisted world, Joanna discovers shocking truths that threaten to shatter everything she once believed.

"Retribution" is a heart-pounding, high-octane thriller that will leave you breathless. Joan De La Haye's masterful storytelling weaves a tale of relentless suspense, pulse-pounding action, and intricate twists and turns. This gripping novella is a must-read for fans of dystopian sagas and edge-of-your-seat adventures.

In a race against time and her enemies, Joanna must summon every ounce of strength, cunning, and determination to emerge victorious. Will she defy the odds and exact her own brand of retribution, or will she become another casualty in this deadly game?

Join Joanna Perry on her perilous journey in "Retribution," where survival is uncertain, and the pursuit of justice comes at a steep price. Prepare for a gripping conclusion that will leave you eager for more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joan De La Haye
• Release date: Feb 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386812197

Joan De La Haye

Joan De La Haye writes horror, dark fantasy and some very twisted thrillers. She invariably wakes up in the middle of the night because she's figured out yet another freaky way to mess with her already screwed-up characters. You can stalk Joan on her website: www.joandelahaye.com

Book preview

Retribution

The Race: Book 4

By

Joan De La Haye

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2018 by Joan De La Haye

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise).

www.joandelahaye.com

Cover art by Tallulah Lucy

1st Edition March 2018

Also by Joan De La Haye

Stand-Alone Books

Requiem in E Sharp

Fury

Oasis

Burning

The Diabolical Series

Shadows

The Veil

The Oubliette

The Eternally Cursed Chronicles

Bound by Betrayal

Short Story Collections

Sliced and Diced

Sliced and Diced 2

Sliced and Diced 3

The Race Series

The Race

Training Days

Besieged

Consequence

The Patron

Table of Contents

Title Page

Also by Joan De La Haye

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

Be a Freaky Darling

Consequence

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Shadows

Requiem in E Sharp

Fury

Oasis

Burning

Sliced and Diced

Sliced and Diced 2

Sliced and Diced 3

Bound by Betrayal

1

A

t least this time around they hadn’t drugged me. I walked onto the ship with my own two legs, although in some ways I wish they had knocked me out first. The other Runners stared at me as I strolled up the gangplank, trying to look as though I didn’t give two shits that they all wanted my head. My heart, on the other hand, betrayed my fear by trying to beat its own retreat.

Cowardly little fucker.

Von Zimmer, Olga, and Doctor Mannheim would meet me on the Island. The lucky shits got to fly there while I had to be caged up with the rest of the animals and fresh meat in the hull of the old rust-bucket. It was the same ship I’d sailed on to the Island the first time around. A lifetime ago.

The Novices were in their cells and unconscious when we—The Runners—were forced into our cells like cattle and locked up for the journey to the Island. My stomach still didn’t enjoy being on the ocean. I kept swallowing my puke down to avoid throwing up all over one of the Runners sharing the cell with me. I couldn’t afford to show weakness. I also wasn’t sure if being sick all over a hyped-up Runner would spark a fight or not, and I really didn’t want to have to defend myself until I absolutely had to.

Sunil was also somewhere on the ship, which was also a bit on the odd side. He usually didn’t leave Von Zimmer’s side, but I liked to think that he wanted to be close to me. You know—just in case. The problem was I didn’t know where he was on the ship. Plus it didn’t really matter how close he was if one of the Runners decided to bash my head against the metal bars until my skull caved in there would be nothing he could do about it, and Mannheim wouldn’t be able to bring me back. I was on my own.

Elena was in a separate cell on the other side of the hull. They’d put her as far away from me as they possibly could. I guess The Organisation didn’t want the show to start too early. They might just miss out on seeing a chick fight and some arterial spray, and that would be wrong. There were cameras everywhere, so I guess they wouldn’t miss too much, but you never know since they were also in transit.

I felt Elena’s eyes on me. If she could have killed me with her glares, my blood would have sprayed the Runners standing anywhere near me, and my screams would have been heard all along the African coastline. When the time came, she would make sure I suffered as much as possible. I could see her lust for revenge stamped all over her face. It was a look I knew well. I’d seen it in the mirror many times.

The Runners sharing my cell avoided making eye contact and shrunk away. It seemed weird to think that they could possibly be afraid, or maybe they could tell I was about to hurl chunks. Although it was more likely, they’d been given orders to stay away from me until the Race was in full swing. They’d want to capture my death in all its cinematic glory for everyone to enjoy from the comfort of their bulletproof boxes. They also probably wanted to see Von Zimmer’s face when my head landed in the dirt. They would undoubtedly want to draw it out for as long as possible, for entertainment value. They really were a sadistic bunch.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he and Sunil would shed a tear when I died. Would they take my body back to the castle or would they leave my carcass on the Island for the vultures? Would another Novice stumble across my bones and my sword in years to come?

A whimper followed by a scream from the neighbouring cell pulled me out of my morbid thoughts. Then came all the shushing sounds I remembered from my own voyage. Why did people always feel awkward around someone putting voice to their own fear and emotions and then feel the need to silence it? Why couldn’t we all just own that shit?

I crossed