Page 14

I can’t give up.

Soft grunts give voice to my toil, and after minutes of wriggling and jerking, I’ve not even reached halfway across the rebar. A sob tears through me, my body sagging with the impossible task, but on a rush of adrenaline, I try again, jerking the chain small steps at a time.

It finally slips over the edge of the rebar, and I tumble to the ground. Without so much as a glance back, I clamber to my feet and run toward the faint beam of moonlight just ahead.

My feet fly out from beneath me, and as a growl echoes around me, I twist onto my back.

The Rager from earlier climbs up my body, chattering its teeth.

I kick away, managing one hard thump to its chest, but that only seems to piss it off more, its growls like a warning of the pain yet to come.

On a roar, it yanks me closer and tears the hem of my dress out of its way.

No. God, no, please.

A scream breaks free of my throat, and my body spasms and convulses with the will to survive.

The Rager stills, its face over my exposed belly. Confused and out of breath, I watch as it drags its nose over my stomach.

Smelling me?

It rears back its head, as if it’s stumbled upon something unpleasant. When it lifts its eyes to me, a brief look of curiosity hardens to violence, before it lunges toward my throat.

On reflex, I stretch my hands out to block the hit, closing my eyes for the impact, and at the first snap, I open them to find the chain pressed into its throat. Teeth just inches from my neck.

It pushes against the chain, forcing my muscles to bear its full strength. Arms trembling, I scream and hold it back, fatigue setting in faster than the rush of adrenaline pulsing through me. One bite, and it’ll be over. There will be no need to fight, because if I’m not completely consumed, I’ll become infected.

It seems to get closer.

My arms grow weaker.

A shot rings out, and the Rager jerks against me.

A hole in its skull oozes blood, and I shove at the chain, knocking him away.

Cold paralyzing shock crawls over my spine, as I lay staring at the small stretch of chain between my trembling fists still held above me. Broken pants of air fail to fill my lungs.

Movement draws my attention toward a pair of boots stepping into my periphery, and I trail my gaze up the legs to a shadowy figure that looms over me.

“In here!” he yells, and the volume of his voice has me looking around for more of the Ragers.

“The others. They’ll hear you,” I whisper, lifting my head to search for them.

Ignoring my warning, the stranger lodges his hands beneath me, helping me to my feet. It’s only when I’m upright that I catch a glimpse of Gwen, still lying on her belly, twitching. Blood between her thighs marks the Rager’s brutality.

As I lurch toward her, the stranger swings his arm out to stop me. “Stay back. She’s bit.”

As soon the words tumble past his lips, I see a patch of deep red up by her neck, where the Rager must’ve torn away her flesh.

“She … she hasn’t … turned yet.” My words stick on the dryness and shock that swells in my throat. “She ... needs … help.”

A second stranger strides up to her, and before I can stop him, he points a gun and shoots.

“No one can help her.” The man holding me lowers his arms, and when I step back, the gravity of this bears down on me.

“That … could’ve been ... me,” I mutter, eyes focused on the ravaged state of Gwen’s body. The scratches over her spine. The blood. The dirt. The barbarity. A wave of dizziness claims my balance, and I stumble back into the man, who catches my arm. Once the vertigo passes, I regain my footing. “There were others.”

“Probably heard us outside the cave. Killed ‘em, a couple yards off.”