Page 114 of After the Burn

“What is it, boy?” I whispered.

His hackles rose as he stared into the branches.

I followed his gaze.

Nothing.

Just thick limbs tangled with summer leaves. Then… something nasty landed on my cheek.

I frowned and wiped it away, bringing my finger to my nose.

Rot.

“Wren…” I frantically looked above us.

“What?”

“Something is in that tree.”

Wren immediately looked up, too.

Suddenly, I heard a faint scraping, but stumbled before I could locate where it was coming from.

That damn blood draw must have taken more out of me than I thought.

Shit!

I was the stupid heroine in a horror movie.

I looked back into the tree, and two cloudy eyes looked down at me. An infected had wedged itself deep between two massive branches, everything below its ribs missing. Torn intestines hung dried and black beneath it, suspended for months.

“Wren! Move!”

It dropped.

The torso slammed into her shoulders with enough force to knock her to the ground. Its arms wrapped around her neck as yellow teeth snapped inches from her face.

She screamed. “Robin!”

Max launched first.

His jaws clamped onto the infected’s shoulder, shaking violently, but the thing refused to let go.

I threw myself onto it, grabbing its wrist before its teeth could sink into Wren’s throat.

Normally I could have ripped it off, but not today. My arms trembled, and pain shot through my shoulders.

“Damn it,” I growled.

The rotter, as Wren renamed them, snapped its teeth in my face, its foul breath washing over me as it tried to reach the flesh it craved.

My vision began to blur.

No.

It jerked one arm out of my grip, and its hand wrapped around Wren’s throat.

Her eyes grew desperate.