Athunkandsquelchmeet my ears as it sinks into her neck. She hovers for a second, her expression turning to shock, the life already fading from her eyes as blood trickles down, and then she’s on the ground. It’s truly a grotesque sight.
Malcolm is already behind the desk and heading down the hall. “Damn,” he murmurs. “You weren’t kidding.”
I snort. I’ve been throwing sharp objects since I was a kid. My aim with a knife is better than that with a gun. Knives don’t have a recoil or make noise.
The firearm she has access to is in the open, so I grab it, check the chamber, and follow down the hall.
Malcolm storms the office to the right. I take the one just beyond on the left with its light on. The man behind the desk is on his feet, gun in hand. He’s still raising it as I grab the second blade I have on me. I toss it and let myself drop to the ground just before he pulls the trigger.
The release is fucking loud. The air of the room becomes filled with the scent of the discharge. There’s a ringing in my ears. However, I’m not shot. I don’t take time to see where the bullet hit as I surge forward.
I stop short when I see him hunched over the desk in a pool of blood. The gun he had in his hand slid off the desk and landed in the seat of the chair opposite. Huh. What did I hit?
“I thought we were keeping them alive?” Malcolm asks, though I only hear his voice through a tunnel.
“Oops. Is your guy alive?”
He laughs. “Yes. One of us can follow instructions, man.”
I rub my ears, but it’s not over. I hear the rifle we left Brek with go off out front. Malcolm and I turn on our heels and sprint for the door.
34
BREK
My body leans heavilyagainst the side of the building. I adjust so that I have a clear view of the road leading into the parking lot, the front door, and the truck slightly behind me with the three men in the back.
I’m surprised they don’t run right now while I’m alone. It’ll be easy to overwhelm me. I’m sure they can tell I’m injured. Yet, they remain where they are. Unmoving. Watching.
The pain in my side and my ankle is a constant background throb. Sometimes, that noise gets louder and threatens to overwhelm me. I’m trying to ignore the way I’m shaking. There’s a chance it might be because I’m cold, but I don’t feel cold.
It’s peaceful here. There are birds singing, which feels mocking. They sing while humans run around in the trees below, murdering other humans. The birds continue to sing.
I look beyond the truck into the trees, wondering if the others are finding success. How many are going to die? The hunters,yes. As they should die. But how many of the innocent will also lose their lives attempting to get free?
There’s no movement in the trees except within the canopy. Birds fly between branches. Squirrels jump and run along tree limbs. The bird song is joined by squirrel chitters. Somewhere in the distance, someone screams. A shudder runs along my spine.
I turn back to the road, but I move too quickly. My head spins, and I have to close my eyes for a minute. I have such a damn headache. There’s a chance it’s from my broken glasses. I can’t see properly, and it’s straining my eyes.
Crunching gravel has me shifting so I can listen more. There’s an unmistakable gunshot from inside. It makes my heart jump, and I shift to look at the door. My attention doesn’t stay there as an unfamiliar SUV comes through the trees. It parks, and all four doors swing open.
The man in the passenger seat steps out, and I raise the gun in my hand, pulling the trigger. I miss. I don’t get the gun up in time to hit anything or anyone. The rifle feels really heavy, but I heave it up and take aim at the windshield. I’m bound to hit someone if the bullet can make it through the glass.
“Brek!”
My body sways at my name. There’s a chance I’m hearing things, though. The pulsing in my ears is loud. Fear fills me. There are at least four people in that vehicle, based on all the doors opening at the same time. If we count the three behind me, we’re outnumbered. Especially because I’m pretty useless with a gun. With any weapon.
“Brek, stop,” Voss says, his hand closing around the rifle in my hand. He swings the barrel toward the sky, his hand covering mine over the trigger. “It’s okay. They’re not strangers.”
“I don’t know that guy,” I insist, thinking of the man from the passenger side. I didn’t have a chance to look at the others.
Voss takes the rifle from my hands, and honestly, I’m glad for it. He pulls me to his chest, handing the gun to Malcolm. “Sure you do. That’s Doc Mark. He was at the big house for weeks when Axl was born.”
We’re joined by the occupants of the SUV now, and yeah, okay. I recognize the triplets easily enough. Now that Doc Mark is close… I shiver. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
Voss removes my glasses, and I close my eyes. Now I’m really shaking. All of me hurts. The pain is becoming overwhelming. I feel like I’m shaking uncontrollably.
The feeling of glasses sliding back onto my face has me opening my eyes, and it’s like magic. I can see again. How the hell did he fix them so quickly? And they’re clean!! Such a little thing, but I can see.
