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Then a loud, gunshot-like snap tore through the interior, and I held on tight to the steering wheel. Kirby screeched from the back, and Luke grabbed the handle above the door.

My stomach lurched. The scream of metal on bitumen ripped through the street, and we slammed to a stop outside a pub, each of us jerking into place again.

A breath wrenched from me, and I checked over my shoulder, fumbling for the seatbelt catch. “Out. Quick. The noise might bring more of them.”

I flung the door open and found the wheel lying in the gutter. With a silent curse, I ran straight for the boot, my sneaker skidding when I rounded the car.

Luke joined me as I lifted the lid. “Did you see the wheel?” he asked.

“Yep.” I tossed Kirby her axe, taking the nail gun for myself. “You’d think we could catch a break, but no.”

He grabbed the pickaxe and slammed the boot shut.

I locked up and shoved the fob in my pocket. We’d have to come back later for the duffle bags—again.

“The farmhouse…” Kirby braced herself as the infected men closed in on us. “That dickhead must have stopped there with car trouble. Maybe even today with the bread smell. Those poor people never knew what was coming.”

My shoulders turned rigid at the reminder of their bodies, and for about the hundredth time, I questioned the decision to leave him breathing. “He was playing us all along, and we were too stupid to see through it.”

“We all saw through it.” Luke stepped closer and planted his feet, arms pulled back in a hitter’s stance. “That’s why we’re here now and he’s not.”

He swung at the hoodie man, muscles bunching in his back, hips twisting. With one effortless arc, he took the man down, and I did my best to ignore the shiver his grunt inspired.

His body collapsed at Luke’s feet, head turned toward me, mouth hanging open. Blood leaked from his matted hair and seeped toward my toes.

I moved aside as Kirby faced up to the remaining infected. “This is my first one on my own,” she said. “Watch my back and don’t be afraid to—oh shit, here he comes.”

The man tripped and tumbled forward at a rate faster than any of us had expected. He careened straight into Kirby’s legs, then dropped to his bare knees and tipped Kirby off balance. Only Luke’s quick hands kept her upright.

The axe clattered from her grip, and for one terrifying second, I thought she might get bitten, that we’d lose one of our own today.

Adrenaline surged inside me, and I gripped the nail gun tight.

While Luke dragged Kirby out of harm’s way, I shoved the infected man hard enough to send him sprawling face down on the road. Before he could rise again, I braced my sneaker on his back and pressed the nail gun to his skull. His body writhed, fingers clawing at nothing.

I winced and squeezed the trigger, unleashing a crack that kicked up my arm. The nail punched straight through bone, and the man went still.

Somebody’s friend. Brother. I shook my head, refusing to let myself think about that anymore.

The nail gun let out a whine as I straightened and rolled my shoulders. “Everyone okay?”

“Now, I am.” Kirby pushed her hair from her eyes with trembling fingers, stooping to collect her axe. “He almost turned me into a snack.”

“Focus on the almost part.” Luke nodded at the nail gun. “Might as well use an actual gun for all the noise that thing makes.”

“I know. My ears are ringing.” I turned in a slow circle and checked the shop windows for movement.

Nothing had changed. Nobody came outside. It was as if we were alone in the town.

“First priority,” Kirby said, “find another car.”

I stared past her at the opposite end of the street. “And when we find a car, we need to talk.”

“About?” she asked as the three of us took off walking.

We kept moving in the direction we’d been driving before the car collapsed, heading toward a residential area.

“Staying here for the night.”