Faithless: A Jane Doe Thriller Audiobook

Music and credits.

What I’m about to tell you sounds crazy. I died. More on that later. I’m still piecing together the story. Each fragment is like a Post-it I was lucky enough to pull from deep inside my disjointed memory. Or from a trusted friend. Or an enemy…

When I opened my eyes, I was in water under low lights. I remembered gunfire and people shouting. This wasn’t Afghanistan…

Like an abandoned puppy, the guard stared at his dead friend’s body. “Is there another way out?” I said…

I didn’t see anyone for a long time. A scrawny coyote appeared from out of a gully, limping. When he saw me, he yipped. The animal remained still as I inched closer…

The sun was scorching. I was so dehydrated I saw spots. And I was starving. Up ahead, there was a worn white sign. Sitting atop a huge pole, it read “Café” in rust-colored letters…

Raul said little as we made our way south on the 14 toward LA. I worried about what would happen to John and Consuelo. These guys were professionals…

Cold water trickled down my face and neck. I thought I recognized Bo watching over me, one eyebrow arched. It was Raul, holding a bottle of water…

Spanish-speaking voices woke me, and I sat up. A scattering of immigrants wearing their finest filed into the church. I wished I knew what time it was…

I was in a dream—not the one I’d awakened from at Hellborn…

The tailor had an office on Santee in the garment district. We had to climb four flights of stairs because the stupid elevator was out. Never mind, I needed the cardio…

After two hours of shopping, I’d had enough. Plus, my feet were in agony. And I was starving. I dumped my bags in the trunk and got into the car…

It was late when we left The Last Bookstore. We’d spent a couple of hours, and it was hard for me to leave. I imagined living in a tent beneath the Book Arch Wall. Happily reading and eating take-out. No Kersey. No Hellborn. No djinn…

Raul picked me up at 0800 sharp. I’d washed and pressed the shirt. Instead of the heels Nate lent me, I decided on soft black Italian booties—M. Gemi…

We arrived at Otay Mesa Detention Center in the late afternoon. The place was enormous. A chain-link fence topped with razor wire surrounded drab beige and brown buildings…

Fishtailing, the van skidded off the road and came to a jagged halt in the sand. Raul climbed out of the vehicle—weapon raised—and crouched behind the driver’s side door…

I made it to LA with barely enough time to get ready. On cue, Dickles the Clown leered at me from behind the desk as I entered the lobby…

By the time I got home, I’d already decided to return to Hellborn. I changed clothes and got on the road, heading north toward the desert…

I made my way to the room with all the tanks. Outside in the hallway, the lights were on. There were bullet scars on the walls and blood spray everywhere…

Before heading back to LA, I stopped at the café in Perro Negro. It was dark inside. I got out and peered through the front door. There was a light on in the kitchen…

I don’t dream much. When I do, it’s about Afghanistan and the malang who saved my life. I opened my eyes to shards of piercing light through the blinds. A new day…

Wilshire Boulevard was a mess, and I cut over to 6th. I thought a black Escalade might be tailing me, which meant Harry Packard was on to me…

Out in the hallway, two more shots—closer this time. A weapon with a suppressor doesn’t silence the bullet the way most people think…

I didn’t know LA well and ended up in Koreatown. When I spotted a Gas-N-Gut, I pulled in and called Raul. We arranged to meet at a place called Beer Belly on Western…

Cautiously, I approached my building’s parking garage. The whole time I had the microchip in me, the gray-suits could’ve found out where I live…