We are Evil: No Way Back E-Book

Tanja Weber

• Herausgeber: epubli
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

"No Way Back" - Volume 3 of the "We are Evil" series The family is shattered, but not destroyed. While Berlin descends into chaos, Clara rises from the ashes – merciless, unstoppable, driven by revenge and lust. Old enemies live, new allies bleed, and evil continues to grow. For blood is thicker than law – and the end is only the beginning.

Leseprobe

Title:We are Evil:

No Way Back

Author:Tanja Weber

Biography:

Tanja Weber was born in Cologne in 1985and now lives in Berlin. Even as achild, she was fascinated by darkstories and gripping crime novels, butinstead of pursuing a traditionaldegree, she decided to experience lifefirsthand and draw her stories fromreality. After several years in variousjobs—from journalist to PR agency tofreelancer in the entertainmentindustry—she began writing her ownthriller in 2015.

With a clear focus on exciting,profound characters and the dark sideof society, she takes her readers intothe depths of the human psyche. Hernovels are characterized by fast-pacedplots, complex relationships, and amixture of thriller, drama, andCrimestories.

Chapter 1 – The Shadow Returns

"Take down the damn curtains, Sander! It's not night outside anymore! Or do you want to die in the dark like some mangy mutt?" The voice was shrill, nasal, and came from a badly made-up nurse with the charm of a tile table. She slapped the breakfast tray down on the wobbly table next to the hospital bed. The egg rolled off in slow motion, thudded onto the floor, and burst.

Sander stared at her. Silent. Not a sound. Only the left corner of his mouth twitched slightly. The right side of his face was still paralyzed—a reminder of a bullet from Lisa's damned gun. He was alive. More or less. But alive enough to hunt them down. All of them. Klaus. Lisa. Mark. The whole goddamn brood.

"I'm done with this shit," he muttered hoarsely, reaching for the coffee cup with trembling fingers. Lukewarm. Disgusting. But it burned through his throat like gasoline. "I'm getting out. This month. I'm going to find her. I'm going to kill her."

The nurse giggled. "Shut up, Grandpa. You can't even pee without a catheter."

He threw the cup against the wall.It burst. Coffee dripped onto the wallpaper as if someone had spilled brain matter. The nurse screamed. Two nurses came in. "Another seizure, Mr. Sander? Would you like something to calm you down?"

He grinned crookedly. "I don't want your fucking peace. I want a gun."

Two weeks later, he was standing outside. Black jeans, leather jacket, his face half-scarred, but his eyes – they had that look only men have who no longer believe in rules. Instead, they believe only in revenge. His first stop took him back to police headquarters. Inspector Gerda Brandt was dead. Heart attack. No wonder, given his job. Sander was alone now. But that was exactly what was good.

"The Winter family is out there again," he muttered as he leafed through the files. Crime scene photos. Robbery of a jewelry store in Kassel. Video footage from a gas station: Mark in a cap, Lisa with a stroller, Klaus with a disgusting fur collar. "You're not even careful, you wankers," he growled. "Perfect."

He slammed the folder shut, grabbed his coat, and left. Kassel wasn't a metropolis. But it was full of rat holes. AndHe knew the kind of people who hid there. Junkies. Hookers. Gangsters on coke. Everyone talked – if you just knew where to step.

•

At the same moment, five kilometers away, Klaus was sitting in a crappy kitchen that smelled of cigarettes and cold grease. He stuffed himself with a piece of white bread with Nutella, drank a can of beer, and read some Telegram messages on his smartphone from a guy offering weapons. "Looks like a kid's arm with a handle on it," he said of the sawed-off shotgun, laughing dryly. Mark was standing at the window, shirtless, a cigarette between his lips, staring down at the street.

“Clara didn’t go to university today,” he murmured.

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Aha. And what's that supposed to tell us, Sherlock? That she already knows you're spying on her like a drooling peeping tom?"

"Fuck you, Lisa," Mark growled, without taking his eyes off the window. "There's something about her. I can feel it. She's not stupid. She asked questions about... where we come from. Who we are. I mean... that wasn't small talk."

"Then just kill her if you're so scared," Klaus said casually without looking up. "Problem solved."

"You're such a sick bastard," Lisa said calmly, but her voice trembled. She'd been in the bath with Tim the night before. They'd heard everything. Everything. His groans. Her gasps. The dull thud as he pushed her against the wall. Her voice screaming, "Harder!" The children had been sound asleep—or had become numb.

Klaus grinned. "I'm not sick. I'm alive. I'd be sick if I thought we could get out of this in one piece."

•

Later that evening, there was a knock at the door. Eric opened it. His face was pale, his forehead damp. "Police?" he asked nervously.

"Relax, you pissant," Lisa said, stepping past him and opening the door. It was Clara. Black coat, light makeup, reddened eyes. She looked at Mark. "Can I come in for a minute? I need to talk to you."

Mark let her in without a word. She smelled of apple shampoo. And of fear. The living room was shabby—a stained couch, a flat screen TV from the 2000s, a smelly ashtray on the coffee table.

Clara sat down. Her hands were shaking. "I... I lied," she began.

Mark sat down opposite her and leaned forward. "About what?"

"I'm not just a psychology student. I work... part-time... at the city journal. Internship. I write reports. Also about... wanted criminals."

There was a bang. Lisa had drawn her gun and held it to Clara's forehead. "You dirty little whore!"

Mark intervened. "NO! Wait, Lisa! Wait!"

Clara trembled. Tears streamed down her face. "I didn't say anything. Nothing yet. I just wanted to know... if it's you. If you're the Winters."

Lisa hissed, "So what were you going to do? Print an article? Or rat us out for money, you cunt?"

"I wanted... I wanted... I don't know. I fell in love with you, Mark."

Klaus laughed loudly. "In him? The half-monkey with a cigarette in his mouth? Tell me, Clara, what's wrong with you?"

Mark yelled, "SHUT UP, KLAUS!" He stood up, full of anger. "Clara stayshere. She didn't do anything."

Lisa looked at him for a long time. Then she put the gun away. "Your problem. If she runs into us, I'll shoot you both. Personally."

•

Sander was standing in his car at night. In front of the house. He'd gotten the address from a chat room. It was some dealer whose knee Lisa had recently shattered. Sander had visited him in the hospital. "Tell me where they are," he'd said – with a syringe full of air in his hand. The answer came quickly.

Now he saw the light in the apartment. And a female silhouette. He took a photo with his cell phone and enlarged it. Clara. "You stupid thing," he muttered. "You bring her to me on a silver platter."

•

Clara stayed overnight. It took less than an hour before she was sitting on Mark's lap, her blouse open, his hands under her skirt. She moaned softly. "Touch me harder. I want you to break me, Mark."

He did it. No questions asked. On the kitchen table. She rode him like a mad woman, moaning so loudly that even Klaus put down some of his beer. Lisalistened – with a fixed gaze. Then she disappeared into the bathroom and rubbed herself between her legs. Vigorously. Quickly. Her fingers glided over the scar on her hip. She bit her lip until it bled.

•

Eric slept badly. He dreamed of Renate. How she screamed at him. "You're weak, boy. You'll betray them all. You have the murderer inside you – and you're afraid to let him out." He woke up drenched in sweat. Breathing heavily. And then he went into the kitchen. Clara sat there, naked in Mark's shirt, drinking red wine.

“Nice ass,” said Eric.

“Even nicer when you touch it,” she replied.

Eric hesitated. Then he stepped closer. "You're playing with fire."

“Maybe I want to burn.”

They kissed. Only briefly. Then Mark walked in. And stared. "What the hell...?!"

“It’s just a bit of fun,” said Clara, grinning.

“You’re a whore,” Mark muttered.

"Maybe. But a damn good one."

•

The next morning, no one woke up early. But there was a note on the windshield of the getaway car.

"I see you. We'll see each other again soon. – Sander"

Lisa read it first. Her hand began to shake. Then she yelled through the apartment: "He's alive! The bastard is alive!"

Klaus came out of the bathroom, half-shaven, his face covered in foam. "What?!"

Lisa held the note under his nose. Klaus stared at it. "Then it's time to finally bury him."

And Mark? He was standing in the corner and looking at Clara.

“Was that you?” he asked.

Clara remained silent.

Chapter 2 – You Owe Me Blood

"I'll only ask you once, Clara," Mark growled as he pushed her against the wall. His voice was quiet, but throbbed with anger. "Have you contacted Sander? Did you write the note?"

Clara's eyes flickered. She pressed her lips together, then slowly shook her head. "No... I... I wouldn't do something like that..."

Lisa stepped closer. Her bare feet slapped against the dirty floor. "Tell the truth, or I'll rip out your pretty tongue and stuff it up your little cunt."

Clara flinched. Mark intervened. "Lisa, shut up! I'll sort this out."

"You're too soft for her. Always have been," Lisa spat back and left the room.

•

Klaus sat in the kitchen, cutting bacon. Naked except for his beer-stained underwear. "Whoever's awake gets something to eat. Anyone who causes trouble gets a punch in the face."

Eric came in, dark circles under his eyes like deep trenches. "What happened yesterday? Clarawanted to give me a blowjob or something?"

Klaus laughed. "She looked at the sausage, didn't she? Your face was already red before she even pursed her lips."

"I was... surprised."

"You'd be surprised too if you took a receipt at Lidl and won a million. But it's war here, kid. No room for feelings. She'll fuck you, she'll betray you, and then you'll be lying in a ditch, naked and with your throat open. Get it?"

Eric nodded slowly. He checked. Or pretended to.

•

In the living room, Lisa wiped Sander's message off the windshield with a rag. The note was already burned. But the feeling remained. That tingling sensation in the back of her neck, as if someone was standing right behind her. "He's a ghost," she murmured. "A dirty ghost with a gun."

Mark came out and put on a shirt. "Clara says it wasn't her."

Lisa laughed shrilly. "Of course she says that. She'd piss in your face and say it's raining."

“I believe her.”

“Then you’re dumber than your dick is long.”

"Hey," warned Mark. "Don't talk about my business."

"Why? Because Clara sucked on it before you spanked her ass? Believe me, brother— she betrayed us. And if you don't see it, we'll do it like we used to. Straw, gasoline, torched. Done."

•

Inspector Sander was sitting in a cheap motel on the outskirts of town. He stared at the blurry cell phone photos of the apartment. Clara was in them. In the kitchen. Half naked. Then Mark, shirtless, with that look. Sander gritted his teeth.

"I've got you all on my radar, you sick bastards," he whispered. "And you, Clara... you owe me blood. Because you think you're cuddling with monsters."

He opened a can of ravioli and stuffed it into his mouth, cold. The mirror in the bathroom was broken—he'd smashed it when his arm wasn't working as quickly as it used to. "Shitty body," he muttered. Then he picked up his cell phone and called someone.

"You still owe me something, Leon. I want addresses. Weapons. And a few men who won't ask questions when things get tough."

Someone on the other end laughed. "You're back in the game, old man? Well then, welcome back."

•

Clara sat alone in the room. The door was locked. Lisa had locked her in. Mark hadn't said anything about it. She felt like a caged animal. Naked. Dirty. In love. Confused. She wanted to understand this family—and destroy it. Both at the same time.

A key turned in the lock. Eric entered, holding a bag of chips. "I... just wanted to see if you were... okay."

"I'm locked in, Eric. Are you okay with that?"

“Better than dead.”

"And you? Are you better than them? Or just too cowardly to kill?"

Eric remained silent. Then he sat down next to her. "I once killed a hamster. Because it bit me."

Clara frowned. "It's not the same thing."

"Yes. It's a start."

•

In the evening they all sat on the roof. It wasCold, the wind smelled of autumn and garbage. Klaus drank from the bottle. Lisa smeared lipstick on her face as if it were blood. Mark smoked. Eric stared into the darkness. Clara sat between them—the new girl. The calm before the storm.

"Sander's back," Klaus said suddenly. "We can feel it. He's like cancer. He'll come back when you think you're clean."

"Then we'll cut him out," said Lisa. "With everything we have."

"Or we disappear," Mark suggested. "Amsterdam. Belgium. Somewhere."

“Coward,” Klaus spat.

“Realist,” countered Mark.

“Pisser,” growled Lisa.

"Enough!" Clara shouted. Everyone looked at her.

"You're a family, right? Then act like it. If Sander wants to get you, he'll do it together. Not everyone against everyone."

Klaus laughed. "She talks like a politician. The only thing missing is her holding up an election poster."

Lisa grinned. "Maybe I'll let her live. Just to see how shegoes under.”

Mark said nothing. His hand just grabbed Clara's under the table. Firmly. Possessively.

•

Later that night, Clara woke up. Noises in the living room. Voices. Men. Unknown.

She crept to the door. She looked through the keyhole. Three strange guys. Heavily armed. Leather jackets. Gold chains. One with a bald head. One with a gap in his teeth. One with a crazy laugh.

"They pay cash," said the gap-toothed man. "And we get to have our fun. Right, Lisa?"

Lisa nodded. "As long as you deliver what Sander wants."

Clara stepped back, trembling. Betrayed. Sander was closer than she had thought.

Chapter 3 – If you fall, you fall alone

The morning smelled of piss, cheap cigarettes, and old sweat. Lying in the kitchen was a man Clara had never seen before—one of Lisa's new contacts. His leather jacket was halfway over his face, his pants down to his knees, his hand in a bag of chips.

“Who is that?” asked Eric, coming out of the bathroom with puffy eyes.

"One of the dogs Lisa called," Klaus grumbled, pouring cold coffee into his mouth. "Sander wants to corner us. And she's willingly handing out the Vaseline."

Clara stood in the doorway. "What do you mean?"

Klaus looked at her. "You're not stupid. Lisa makes deals. With pigs. They'll betray us if the price is right."

“And you allow that?”

"I'm staying out of it. I'm too old for this shit. But Lisa... she plays her own game."

•

Lisa was sitting in the bedroom. On the bed lay the bald man – splinters in his beard, coke residue under his nose. She rode him likea bull, hard and without feeling.

"Hurry up," he panted. "I have to leave right now."

"You're not doing anything," Lisa snapped. "You're my toy until I say enough is enough."

“Your guy is out,” he gasped.

“He hasn’t fucked anyone since he found Clara.”

She got off him, lit a cigarette, and kicked him in the thigh with her heel. "Fuck off now, dog."

The guy mumbled something about “bitch” and left.

•

Mark was chopping wood in the yard. The axe was cutting precisely, quickly, furiously. Clara cautiously approached him. "You should talk to Lisa."

Mark snorted. "You don't talk to Lisa. With Lisa, you hit her or let her do it."

“She’s selling us out.”

"I know."

“And you’re not doing anything?”

"What should I do? Shoot you? IsStill family. You can't kill family."

"Are you sure? I thought that was normal for you."

Mark lowered the axe. His gaze burned into hers. "What do you want, Clara? Pity? A plan? Or just a cock to hold on to because you're scared?"

She trembled. But she didn't back down. "I want you to choose. For me. Or for the abyss."