Chapter 10
TEN
DAKOTA
Julien and I race down the spiral staircase, his hand locked around my wrist as my feet barely touch the wooden steps. The shouts grow louder, and I recognize my mother’s high-pitched cry, Cameron’s deeper tone, and… unfamiliar voices.
My heart punches against my ribs.
“Stay behind me,” Julien repeats, one arm extended back to keep me in place. “No matter what happens.”
We round the final curve and freeze. While we’ve been fighting monsters outside, human monsters found their way in.
Five strangers crowd our makeshift camp. Three men, two women. A tall man with a scraggly beard and dead eyes holds a pistol aimed at my father’s chest. The two women rifle through our supplies, shoving food and water bottles into backpacks.
But that’s not what makes my blood freeze in my veins.
A lanky man with greasy hair has Amelia locked against him, a hunting knife held to the skin of her throat just enough to dimple the flesh without breaking it. Her eyes are wide, face drained of what little color she had left. His other hand grips her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck.
“Dakota.” My mother’s voice breaks on my name.
The man with the gun swivels toward us. His eyes crawl over my body before settling on Julien. “Well, hello, even more people to join the party.”
Julien nudges me behind him. “What do you want?”
“What does anyone want these days?” The man gestures with his gun. “Supplies. Transportation. Your little choir boy mentioned you have car keys.”
“I didn’t—” the reverend stutters from his corner, flinching when one of the women kicks him.
“Cameron.” Julien’s voice is calm, measured, as if we’re discussing dinner plans instead of being robbed at gunpoint. “Give them the keys.”
Cameron’s eyes dart between Sienna and the knife at Amelia’s throat.
“Now,” Julien says.
The man, who I guess is their leader, grins. “Smart man.”
Cameron moves slowly toward the small table and opens the drawer where we keep the keys. He hesitates, then picks up two sets and holds them out. Didn’t we have more?
“Sports car,” he says. “And the SUV.”
“That’s all?”
Cameron nods, his hands shaking slightly. “Unless you want to search the bodies.”
“Guess they’ll do.” The leader snatches the keys, jingling them like a prize. “Melissa, Trish. Go check it out. Load everything. And don’t forget the kitchen.” He tosses the keys to one of the women. “Make sure it’s not a trick.”
The women shoulder their stuffed backpacks and head for the door, weapons ready.
The reverend lurches forward. “Please. We have sick—”
The butt of a gun from the third man cracks against the reverend’s skull, and he crumples to the floor with a whimper, blood trickling down his temple.
“Anyone else want to negotiate?” The leader’s eyes scan the room, landing on me. “No? Good.”
I squeeze closer to Julien’s back, feeling his body vibrate with tension.
The leader notices a slow smile spreading across his face. “This your woman?”
“Back off,” Julien says.
The leader ignores him, stepping closer and reaching past him to touch my face. I jerk back, and Julien’s hand shoots up, gripping the man’s wrist.
“You have our supplies and cars,” Julien says. “Take them and leave.”
The leader considers him, head tilting like a curious dog. Then his eyes slide back to me, traveling down my body like oily fingers.
“She’s not my type anyway.” He twists free and steps back, gun shifting to point at Rosa. “We’ll wait for our friends to report back.”
No one speaks. The only sounds are Amelia’s ragged breathing and the muffled sobs of the reverend. I don’t dare look at my sister, afraid of what I’ll see in her eyes, or worse, what I won’t.
I wasn’t there for her. If I had been here—
The door opens.
The two women return, and the taller one nods. “Cars are ready. But the gate’s still blocked.”
The leader scans the room, considering. “We need someone to help clear the gate.” His gaze lands on Amelia. “Take her.”
“No!” My mother lunges forward.
“I’ll go,” Julien says. “I’m—”
“Shut up.” The leader gestures toward the guy holding Amelia. “Lenny.”
“We’re gonna have so much fun.” Lenny grins, a flash of yellow teeth. Then he drags his tongue up the side of Amelia’s neck.
She whimpers, eyes squeezed shut, the tears leaking from the corners.
“Stop!” My mother half-rises before being shoved back down.
I step out from behind Julien. “Take me.”
Julien glares at me. “Dakota—”
“I’ll do it,” I say. “I can move the car and open the gate.”
“Me too.” Sienna steps forward, shoulders squared.
Cameron grips her arm. “Don’t do this.”
“They need help,” she says. “It’s the only way we all get out of this.”
“So many volunteers. How can I say no to that?” The leader eyes me, calculating.
“I take you and her—” he points at Sienna, “—and the holy man. He can pray for our safe passage.” He laughs at his own joke.
“Everyone else stays here. Lenny keeps his knife on the girl’s throat.
You try anything, she dies and the others, too. ”
“The gate key.” Cameron digs into his pocket and places it into Sienna’s palm, his fingers curling around hers. “Be careful.”
Sienna nods.
“Touching.” The leader motions with his gun. “Now move. I don’t have all day.”
I turn to Amelia, whose face has gone slack with either relief or terror. I want to promise her that everything will be okay, but I can’t form the words.
My father stares at the floor, shoulders hunched. My mother’s face is blank, unreadable. She doesn’t look at me. But Rosa does, catching my eye and giving me the barest nod.
And Julien, after this, I think we’re back at him hating me.
“Outside.” The barrel of a gun presses between my shoulder blades. “Now.”
We walk toward the entrance—the reverend, Sienna, and me—a small, doomed procession. I don’t look back. I can’t. Because if I do, I might lose what little courage I’ve scraped together.
The bright afternoon sun feels like a slap, and I squint against the light, the gun barrel nudging me forward. Beside me, the reverend mumbles prayers, his words slurring together. On my other side, Sienna walks with her head high, eyes forward.
“Faster,” growls the man behind me. Patchy beard, missing front tooth. “Before those things notice us.”
In the distance, shambling figures drift along the road beyond the gate. Lenny walks at a distance from us, the knife loose on my sister’s neck.
“There.” The woman with a shotgun—Melissa, I think they called her—nods toward the gate where the sedan sits. “Move it. And don’t try anything stupid.”
The reverend’s prayers grow louder, more frantic.
“Open the gate first,” Beard-guy orders, shoving me forward. “You—with the keys.”
Sienna steps up to the lock, her hands steady as she inserts the key. The heavy padlock falls open, and she works the chain loose from the bars, letting it clatter to the ground.
“Now the car,” he says.
The reverend just stands there, trembling.
“Help us push.” Sienna grabs his arm. “Unless you want to die here.”
He jerks like she’s shocked him, then stumbles forward.
The three of us position ourselves behind the car. It’s wedged tight against the gate, exactly as intended when Cameron parked it there. I brace my hands against the hot metal of the trunk, stealing a glance back at the church. No sign of the others, but they’re watching.
I know they are.
“On three,” Sienna says. “One, two—Push!”
We strain against the weight of the vehicle. My muscles scream, feet slipping on gravel. The car doesn’t budge.
“Put your backs into it!” Melissa circles us, shotgun raised.
“The parking brake,” I gasp. “It’s still on.”
Beard-guy swears. “Then open the door, and release it.”
Sienna does as ordered, popping the driver’s side door and disengaging the brake. The reverend’s prayers grow more incoherent, his face red with exertion and fear.
“Again!” Sienna commands.
This time, the car rolls forward, inch by agonizing inch. My palms sting against the hot metal, but I lean harder into it. We need to succeed. Amelia’s life depends on it.
“That’s enough.” The leader’s voice cuts through our grunting efforts.
I turn to see him approach in the sports car, the other woman following in an SUV behind. Beard-guy holding the gun on us backs toward the sports car, never lowering his weapon.
“Get in,” the leader calls to him. “The other two as well.”
Melissa jogs to the SUV, sliding into the backseat.
“What about them?” Lenny jerks his chin toward us.
The leader leans out the window, his eyes lingering on me, cold and calculating. “They’ve served their purpose.”
Is he going to shoot us anyway?
The reverend drops to his knees. “Please, I beg you—”
“Shut up.” The leader’s gaze shifts to Sienna, then back to me. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “Next time, sweetheart.”
Lenny climbs into the passenger seat of the SUV, winking at my sister.
“See ya,” the leader calls out, a mock salute as they accelerate past us through the gate.
The SUV follows, tires kicking up gravel. And just like that, they’re gone, taking our vehicles, our supplies, and our hope.
The reverend remains on his knees, face buried in his hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
I spin around, searching for Amelia. She stands a few meters away, looking like a strong wind might knock her over. Tears streak her pale face, but she’s alive.
I cross to her, catching her as she sways, my arms wrapping around her too-thin frame. Her skin feels clammy, pulse fluttering like a trapped bird beneath my fingertips.
“Meli, look at me.” I brush hair from her face, searching her eyes. “Are you hurt?”
She shakes her head, but her gaze drifts past me, unfocused. “They took—He—”
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
The church doors bang open. Julien and Cameron rush toward us, machete and firepoker raised, faces tight with fury and fear.
Julien reaches us first, hands hovering over Amelia’s shoulders before gently turning her face, examining the thin red line on her throat. “Did they—”