Brooks looked around again, but there was no sign of the maniac with the knife. Maybe the sirens had scared the guy away. From the chatter streaming across his radio, it was obvious the other first responders weren’t going to make that same assumption. He could hear his shift supervisor calling out orders to establish a perimeter, for three-officer teams to move in and start methodically clearing the school, and for EMS to maintain their position outside the barricades.
Cassie moaned and rested her forehead against the tree she was still kneeling behind. Despite the chill in the air, she was soaked with sweat, and her face was really pale. Cursing silently, he shoved his weapon in its holster. The girl didn’t have time to wait for EMS. She was bleeding out by the second.
“Hey,” he said softly, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Stay with me, okay?” When she nodded, he continued, “Can you try to hold my flashlight so you can guide us out of here while I carry you?”
She took one trembling hand away from her bloody leg to take the flashlight. “I think so.”
Picking her up in his arms, Brooks quickly started back the way he’d come. By the time he reached the main sidewalk heading to the gym, he was almost running. His heavy boots pounded loudly on the concrete as he raced to get the girl to the paramedics, which was probably why he didn’t hear the second set of footsteps until it was too late.
He jerked his head toward the sound in time to see a huge man hurtling out of the darkness, the dim moonlight coming through the trees glinting off the edge of a blade.
Time slowed, and for reasons that didn’t make a lot of sense, Brooks found himself taking in every detail of the big man. The long, wild hair. The maniacal grin. The wide eyes that seemed to glow in the moonlight. And most of all, the wickedly sharp machete whistling through the air as he swung.
Brooks tried to backpedal, but it was too late. And with Cassie in his arms, going for his weapon wasn’t an option, either. So he did the only thing he could think of. He twisted his body around to protect the girl.
He hoped his tactical vest would stop the machete, but when a ribbon of fire sliced through his lower back and right side, he knew the man had hit him below the edge of the Kevlar vest he wore. The big man had hit him in the one area the protective gear didn’t cover.
Brooks tumbled forward as pain tore through him. He tried to hold on to Cassie, but she flew out of his arms anyway. She hit the ground with a scream…then kept screaming as she realized what was happening.
Brooks rolled the second he hit the pavement, ignoring the ever-increasing pain and the wetness running down his side as he pulled his weapon. Somehow, he managed to get the gun pointed at the man. He couldn’t get a good look at the guy’s face from this angle, but from the growl of rage he let out, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was psychotic…or on drugs.
“Drop the knife or I’ll shoot!” Brooks yelled.
He’d never had to pull the trigger on someone in his entire career in law enforcement, but when the man came at him again, Brooks didn’t hesitate. The .40 caliber weapon bucked twice, the bullets hitting the guy right below the sternum. Dark spots of blood immediately stained the front of the man’s T-shirt.
It should have been enough to put the man down, but he didn’t even slow.
Brooks tried to fire again, but his attacker was impossibly fast. Snarling, the man swung the machete again, catching Brooks across the chest and right forearm. His tactical vest protected his chest, but his arm wasn’t so lucky. The tip of the machete bit in deep, making his whole arm from elbow to wrist go numb with pain. His Glock fell from his hand, disappearing into the darkness of the concrete.
The big man stood over him, growling like a wild animal. His eyes seemed to glow blue in the moonlight, making him appear barely human. Brooks had no doubt the guy was drugged out of his mind. He had no idea if it was coke, heroin, or meth, but the guy was riding something hard.
Brooks was still trying to figure out how to take the psycho down when the man strode off and headed for Cassie, machete in hand. The girl screamed and tried to drag herself away, shoving at the ground with her good leg.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Brooks rolled to his knees. He had to get to the man before he reached Cassie. As enraged as he was, the lunatic would kill her in seconds.
Brooks swayed as he got to his feet. He only had a minute or two before blood loss made him pass out—or worse. He had to finish this before it was too late.
Taking a deep breath, Brooks charged the man like he was still playing fullback at LSU. At the last second, he lowered his shoulder and slammed into the center of the man’s back. The impact jarred every bone in Brooks’s body, making the deep cut in his side burn like it was on fire as he drove the man to the pavement. But it got the madman away from Cassie, and that was what mattered.
The guy squirmed in his grasp like a greased eel with ’roid rage. As they rolled around on the ground, Brooks managed to get one hand on the base of the machete, successfully keeping the weapon away. But that left him open to the man’s fists. The son of a bitch seemed to take great pleasure in punching him in his injured side.
Cursing, Brooks pulled out his Taser with his free hand and shoved it against the man’s bare neck, then pulled the trigger. There was the familiar clicking sound as the nonlethal weapon pumped fifty thousand volts into the man. That would have been enough to incapacitate anyone else, but Mr. ’Roid Rage simply dropped the machete and wrapped both hands around Brooks’s neck like he hadn’t even felt the electricity course through his body.
Brooks tossed his Taser aside. One, because it wasn’t doing crap. And two, because he needed to protect himself. But as he ripped the man’s hands away from his neck and tried to restrain him, his vision began to swim.Shit.He was maybe thirty seconds from passing out. If that happened, he was dead. So was Cassie.
Balling his hand into a fist, he punched the man in the throat. Mr. ’Roid Rage grunted in pain and let go of Brooks. Before the man realized his mistake, Brooks slammed the heel of his hand into the big guy’s nose. The crunch was loud and gratifying, but Brooks knew even that wouldn’t be enough to finish this.
Grabbing the man’s long hair in both hands, he got a firm grip to hold him still. With blood running down from his shattered nose and eyes blazing with that crazy blue, drugged-out glow, the guy looked like a frigging monster. His teeth even seemed to be longer than a normal person’s, and for a minute, Brooks thought he might actually try to bite him. Brooks didn’t give him the chance. With a growl of his own, Brooks slammed his head forward and smashed it into the guy’s face.
Bones crunched, and bright lights flashed in his eyes. But even though it hurt like hell, Brooks headbutted him again and again until the man’s face was a bloody mess. Even that didn’t take the fight out of Mr. ’Roid Rage. Somewhere in between the third and fourth headbutt, he grabbed Brooks by the shoulders and flung him away like a rag doll.
He hit the ground hard, air exploding from his lungs as ribs cracked. Groaning, he opened his eyes to see the man coming toward him with that damn machete in his hand.
Ignoring the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, Brooks struggled to push himself onto his hands and knees, stunned when he saw his Glock on the ground in front of him. With something between a laugh and a sob, he wrapped his hand around the gun and found the trigger with his finger.
But Mr. ’Roid Rage was already swinging the machete.
Brooks could barely feel himself squeeze the trigger, much less know where he was aiming. He got off three shots before the guy slammed down on top of him, those impossibly long teeth inches from his neck.
