Page 113 of Juniper Unraveling

I grapple for his hand, digging my heels into the dirt. Sharp rocks and gravel slice across my back, while the walls around me open to a cavern, and the pressure at my skull falls away. Rolling forward, I push to my feet and scramble toward the dark tunnel ahead of me.

The Rager who dragged me here steps in front of me, blocking the exit.

I back away from him, and scan the surroundings, to find two more Ragers closing in on me.

The screams are louder, and I catch a quick glimpse of the bodies strung along the walls, like macabre marionettes. Bloodied female torsos, without heads or limbs.

A cold sensation fills my chest, while sickness gurgles in my belly. Every breath begs for more air, and my throat burns with the sudden dryness.

The surrounding tents and blankets tell me they were a hive that must’ve stumbled upon a pocket, infecting every one of them. Judging by their ability to talk and hunt in packs, I’d guess they were Stage Two—the psychopath stage, wherein kills can be both purposeful and strictly for their own amusement.

A painful cry draws my attention toward Anna, lying trapped beneath the Rager that straddles her. Her bra has been removed, and the Rager grips her breast with one hand, clutching a bloody mass in the other hand that looks like a heart. He dangles it over her, the blood dripping across her bare skin, then lowers the gelatinous mass to her mouth as if he wants her to eat.

Red lies passed out, and the brunette is tied to a post beneath the torsos, screaming and kicking. Because she’s already pregnant, my guess is she’ll be killed for food.

Beneath the high-pitched screams is a long droning sound, like the agonized wail of endless torment. My eyes follow the sound to the pale, skinny body of a naked woman, tied to the wall of the cavern. Her big, bulging belly pulses with life, the protrusions beneath her skin sending a rush of nausea from my stomach to the back of my mouth. The shape is unnatural—too big for her spindly frame. The milky white of her eyes and the mottling of her skin confess she’s in a progressed stage of infection.

They brought us back to their nest.

My heart slams into my chest, pounding in my throat. On the ground in front of me is Red’s gun. I dart forward and aim at the Rager blocking the exit. The sound of the click sends waves of dread through my muscles, and I drop the useless gun.

I look around the ground for anything. Anything I can use as a weapon. Backing farther away from the approaching Ragers, something hits my heel, and I snap my head down to the body of an older man, whose vacant eyes and the flies buzzing around him, are a sure sign he’s dead. Perhaps one of the men from their camp. The sight of his exposed chest cavity sends a shudder down my spine, but in his hand is a knife that I swipe, holding in front of me as the Rager who brought me edges closer. My hands tremble. No doubt, he sees my fear. Can probably smell it on the air.

The Rager’s lips stretch to a wicked grin, showing a set of teeth that are barely clinging to his gums. “No goin’ anywhar.” He talks as if he’s got a mouth full of marbles.

I’d give anything to have my sling right now.

“Stop! Please!” Anna’s muffled cry echoes from behind me, and I wonder if the Rager’s stuffed her mouth with the bloody organ.

Snaggletooth charges toward me, and I brace my muscles for the impact.

I swipe out at him, slicing the blade across his stomach, eliciting little more than a grunt.

A second Rager follows on his heels, but before I can swing my blade, Snaggletooth hisses and slams him into the wall, in some twisted bid for dominance.

My attention shifts between the two fighting, and the third whose eyes track me, but he doesn’t advance.

With my blade still poised to stab, I watch Snaggletooth chew away the second Rager’s ear, before turning his sights back on me.

He charges toward me again.

Dodging the second swipe, he grips my wrist, and we wrestle for control of the knife.

Gritting my teeth, I push my muscles to fight the pressure against my arm guiding the knife to my throat.

His body dips, as Red jumps onto his back, pulling his arm back away from my neck. Another Rager wraps his fingers around her throat and drags her off him, but she’s given me the upper hand, and I twist the blade, sinking the steel into Snaggletooth’s throat.

Hands flying to his neck, he sputters a cough and falls to the side.

I reach across to glide the blade out of his flesh, while he struggles to breathe, and jump to my feet. The Rager atop of Red rips away the front of her shirt. Before I can get to him, though, the third Rager tackles me from the side—a blow that knocks the air from my lungs—and my spine cracks against the rock floor, knocking a gasp from my chest.

His hands wrap around my throat, and stars explode in my eyes with his throttling. Blackness filters in from the fringes as my view begins to shrink, and the first pangs of real fear strike my gut.

This is where I’m going to die.

As quickly as it arrived, the force at my neck lessens. The blackness gives way to clarity.

He lifts his head, as if he hears something.