Chapter 56
Messy but Effective
Theo
As soon as Ollie attacks Luke, the area erupts into chaos.
Tobias and Harlow come out of nowhere and leap towards the two guards holding Anthony while shots ring out from somewhere near the wall.
A few of the guards are already dead, lying in widening pools of blood with bullet holes in their heads.
The burst of gunshots are interspersed by the familiar caws and squawks from Ketchup as she joins the fray.
Mark shouts out a curse and goes for Rhys while Elsa stands frozen and stares wide-eyed and terrified at the fighting.
The two guards behind me and Alex are stunned, giving the two of us the chance to get the jump on them.
I grab the barrel of the shotgun before the guard can turn it on us, and seeing this, he strikes out with his foot. It lands on my thigh, causing me to grunt as my knees threaten to give way beneath me. Pain ripples out from the hit, adding to the throbbing waves of agony from my gunshot wounds.
Fuck.
While I’m not as injured as I acted, my thigh and ass still hurt like a bitch, and that hit only added to it. As soon as this is over, I’m drowning myself in painkillers and sleeping for a week with Ollie in my arms.
I grit my teeth and yank at the shotgun, trying to pull it from the guard’s grip, but he holds strong and kicks at me again.
This time I’m ready for it and deflect it with a well-timed kick of my own, knocking him off-balance.
Pressing my advantage, I kick out again, this time aiming for his unprotected groin.
The guy groans as he folds in two, his grip loosening on his gun.
I rip it from his fingers, turn it around and discharge it straight into his skull.
It’s loud, messy and disgusting as bits of brain, blood and bone splatter everywhere, but it’s effective.
By the time I’m swinging the barrel around to the second guy, Alex has already dispatched him with a savage thrust of the machete into the man’s chest. With both our guards dead, I turn towards the rest of the fight, needing to make sure Ollie is safe.
Somehow more enemies have shown up, probably drawn in by the sound of fighting, so the small area is clogged with fighting bodies. My eyes seek the familiar chestnut hair of Ollie, but I can’t see her amongst the sea of people. My heart stops and my stomach drops with dread. Where the hell is she?
“Ollie?” I shout, but my voice gets lost in the din.
Alex growls out a curse and barrels straight into the fray, shoving aside enemies like a battering ram. I hobble after him, my gunshot wounds making it known that they do not approve. I grind my teeth and ignore the pain as best I can as I help Alex take out anyone who comes close.
We eventually come across Rhys and Mark, who are exchanging blows in a brutal fistfight.
They’re both covered in bruises and blood, but it’s obvious Rhys has the upper hand despite still recovering from broken ribs.
Mark’s face is black and blue, and he’s heavily protecting his left side while panting.
Rhys is the most enraged I’ve ever seen him, his face red and his eyes almost devoid of anything aside from freezing cold fury.
He dishes out several savage blows to the older man, hitting him in the kidney and then the upper thigh. Mark yells out as his leg buckles beneath him and he half-collapses to the ground. But Rhys doesn’t let up on his attacks, making sure the man responsible for this shit is thoroughly beaten.
Satisfied that Rhys has Mark handled, Alex and I continue with our need to find Ollie.
Her brother is fighting off to the side, being supported by Harlow, who’s looking more like a feral wolf than a family pet as she tears through enemies.
Ketchup backs both of them up, flying into the faces of men attempting to attack them and serving as a distraction.
Shots from the wall ring out, and glancing over, I spot the familiar face of Rachel as she rains down hell on our enemies.
I even see Anthony and the skinny guy—Colin? —fighting side by side.
The only person not fighting is Elsa. She stands off to the side, her back pressed against the wall as she watches the fighting in horror. Neither Alex nor I pay her much mind as we keep searching.
But no matter where we look, Ollie is still nowhere to be found in the sea of people. Shit. Where the hell did everyone come from?
Someone tackles me from behind. The shotgun I’m holding flies from my hands, and I shout in shock and pain as I slam into the ground. The impact sends a shockwave of pain through my body, causing my vision to waver. I struggle to breathe through it as nausea claws up my throat.
And then the sharp blade of a knife presses against my throat.
Alex
I’m a ball of fear, panic and rage as I shove my way through the thick mass of fighting bodies, slashing at anyone who tries to stop me.
Where the hell has Ollie gone? I need to find her, every cell in my body screaming that she must be in danger. Especially since the last person I saw her with was Luke.
But no matter where I look, she’s nowhere to be found. It’s like she disappeared into the crowd, a crowd that is somehow getting bigger.
What the bloody hell is going on?
I slash my machete across the neck of a nearby asshole who was trying to stab me back as I hear Theo yelp behind me. Ice fills my veins, and I turn just in time to watch someone tackle him to the ground and press their knife against his throat.
Instinctively, I know I won’t get there in time to save him. He’s too far, and he’ll be dead by the time I reach him. So I do the next best thing.
I hike my arm back and throw my machete as hard as I can at the bastard attempting to kill him, praying this insane plan works.
And somehow, it does. The blade of the machete slices across the bastard’s face, causing him to lurch sideways and drop his knife in shock.
This gives me time to cross the distance between us, grab either side of his head and snap his neck.
He instantly falls limp, and I chuck his body to the side.
Theo is already sitting up, shotgun cradled in his hands when I turn back to him.
His face is pale and sweaty as he fights to get to his feet, his features contorted into a pain-filled grimace.
I grab his arms with a frustrated growl and lift him up before he hurts himself more.
“Thanks for the assist,” he pants once upright. “Although I don’t think you should make a habit of throwing machetes around.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.” I release him once I’m confident he won’t collapse and search for said machete, finding it lying innocently next to a dead body.
Glowing eyes catch my attention as I straighten.
The man whose throat I’d sliced shuffles towards me, the front of his neck gaping open and his clothes saturated in blood.
Glancing around, I see more of those glowing eyes as well as gnashing yellow teeth and half-rotted bodies. My eyes widen as understanding dawns.
It’s not just human enemies; zombies are here, too. As if this fight wasn’t already dangerous enough.
Fuck.
There’s the blast of a shotgun a second before the head of the shuffling zombie explodes into bloody confetti.
“We’ve got a problem,” Theo says grimly as I turn to face him. He lowers his shotgun and scans the bodies around us, his jaw clenching when he spots more zombies shuffling in the crowd. “A really big problem.”
It’s almost eerie how similar this feels to our attack on the Scourge camp, when those zombies Ollie lured became a horde.
My hand tightens on the handle of my knife at the thought of the woman I love.
We still haven’t found her, and with these zombies now in the mix, the need to see that she’s okay and have her in my arms is overwhelming.
But shoving our way through the crush of people isn’t working. We need to thin the crowd and put down our enemies. Permanently.
Judging from the cold, determined look in Theo’s silver eyes, he’s come to the same conclusion. I lift my machete, and he raises his shotgun, and together, we turn and begin the gory, grim task of killing.
All while hoping we’ll eventually find Ollie alive.
Olivia
He’s going to kill me.
Panic bursts in my chest as Luke clamps my airway shut and I struggle to breathe.
“Fuck keeping you or anyone else alive,” he growls with a demented grin as his eyes blaze with insanity. “You’re going to die today, bitch, and I’m going to watch it.”
His hands tighten.
My lungs scream for air and my brain grows fuzzy the longer he strangles me. I claw uselessly at his wrist while my other hand flails on the ground beside me, desperately trying to locate my knife.
But I can’t find it and my time is running out.
The edges of my vision darken and my lungs burn. My mind feels like it’s been filled with cotton wool, the panic from before dissipating into a strange kind of peace.
The grin on Luke’s face widens, turning monstrous, and he leans down until our noses are almost touching.
It’s like he wants a closer look at the life leaving my eyes and to make sure that he’s the last thing I see before I die.
The thought disgusts me, but just like my panic, that floats away just as quickly as it appeared.
The roar of fighting around us soften, sounding distant as the pounding of my blood fills my ears. I drift, the pain squeezing my throat and in my chest lessening until it’s nothing more than a memory. Maybe death isn’t so bad…
Until I hear the pained curse of Theo.
The sound of his voice sends a bolt of adrenaline through me.
Awareness stabs through the cotton wool wrapped around my brain, ripping it back as more pierce my ears.
Rhys cursing and Alex growling. Tobias shouting at someone and Rachel calling back.
Harlow’s snarls and barks. Ketchup’s caws and squawks.
The people I love. My family. The people I’d leave behind if I gave up.
That thought gives me the strength to fling my arm out and search for the knife. Luke barely registers the movement, his eyes intent on mine, eagerly awaiting my death. My jaw clenches as my hands continue to find dirt and grass.
Until…
Yes!
Something solid and rough fills my palm. Not a knife, but something. My fingers tighten around it and with as much strength as I can summon, I slam the solid object into the side of Luke’s grinning face.
The object—a rock, from what little I can see—collides with his temple with a sickening crack.
His face goes slack, the smile gone from his face a second before he falls sideways off me.
His hand releases my neck, and I gulp in large lungfuls of sweet, sweet air.
My throat is raw, each breath feeling like shards of glass, but I don’t care.
I can breathe.
Unfortunately, the fight isn’t over, and Luke is already recovering from my hit.
My hands are shaky and my body is still recovering from the lack of oxygen as I flip myself onto my front and crawl in the dirt.
My vision wavers, bringing with it a wave of nausea that has me gagging, but I keep going.
Behind me, Luke groans and mutters something, but it’s hard to hear over the din of fighting. Knowing he’s going to come for me has adrenaline and terror shooting through me. I crawl faster, eyes scanning the ground for the dropped knife…
There.
My fingers close around the handle just as a hand wraps around my ankle and yanks me backwards.
“You’re not getting away from me that easily,” Luke slurs as he once again flips me back onto my back.
But I’m ready for him this time.
As I slip, I stab wildly in his direction, still half-blind and nauseous from being almost strangled to death. It’s a shot in the dark, but Luke isn’t expecting it. The blade of the knife sinks into the soft flesh of his stomach just as he’s climbing on top of me, halting his movement.
Shock flickers across his features, the insanity in his eyes clearing for a second as he looks down at the knife. Blood wells up from the wound and soaks into his jacket.
But that madness soon returns, and his features twist into a deep, dark fury that has terror bolting through my veins. “You’re going to regret that. I’m going to make you suffer, make you scream until you’re begging for death.” He goes for the knife.
I tighten my grip on the handle and, with everything I have, yank the blade upward, slicing his belly open. He screams, the sound filled with so much rage and pain that it shakes me to my core, but I don’t stop. I keep slicing at him, digging the blade as deep as it’ll go.
He needs to die. The monster needs to die. That’s the only thought in my head as I attack.
Blood, gore and other things I don’t want to mention spill out from his gaping wounds. He fights back, clawing and grabbing at me but he’s blind with agony so I easily brush off his attacks.
I don’t stop stabbing him until he finally collapses on top of me, silent and still.