Chapter 61
August recoiled as Marlow flew sideways, pressing himself back against the wall. The lost crawled out from the shadows, all burned skin and blistered arms and bloated faces.
There were so many.
The last time he was here, that night with Felix, it was abandoned. Where had they all come from?
Marlow was back on her feet in an instant.
The lost who’d hit her, a stocky man in tattered work clothes, swung the pipe again, but this time, Marlow ducked out of the way with a quick spin.
She straightened and grabbed the man’s arm, the rings in her eyes igniting red.
The man howled in pain, fighting to get free, but her other hand went to his chest, and he convulsed, then dropped.
A man whose face was more blisters than skin tackled one of Gideon’s group to the ground, digging a knife into his chest and tearing before the others could get to him. Gideon buried his saber in the man’s back, but it was too late.
August watched helplessly as the others fought off the creatures, his head screaming to run while his feet refused to listen.
Felix dropped a man dressed in a City Watch uniform with a dagger to the throat, then turned and shouted a warning in his direction.
But even as the woman lunged, August couldn’t move. Felix snatched the dead officer’s saber and cleanly severed the woman’s head. It rolled across the dirty floor before coming to a stop a few steps away.
Felix held August’s gaze for only a second before turning back to the fray.
Run run run run. The word resonated in his ears, its frantic rhythm matching his heartbeat.
Two more lost climbed out from behind a stack of rotting crates.
The others were busy fighting and hadn’t noticed.
August finally came back to himself, his body finally snapping into motion.
He pulled in a sharp breath and pinpointed their location before tearing open the veil.
He crossed the room inside the Hollow Dark and tore open a second rift, dragged them both inside, then swiped it closed.
Now what?
His hand went for his dagger before he remembered that Felix had it. Two sets of bloodshot eyes locked on him. He stumbled back as they lunged, falling backwards through the first tear and hitting the ground hard. He stared up at the swirling darkness. They were stuck inside.
August closed the tear, then watched as Felix kicked the legs out from beneath a man with a metal mask. The man dropped to his knees, and Felix drove the saber straight through his chest.
The man grasped at the blade as blood poured down his front. Finally, Felix pulled the saber free, and the man fell forward. Silence settled around them.
The pressure in August’s chest was suddenly excruciating, like it was trying to tear a hole through him. He tried to stand, but his body revolted, and he folded forward, spitting up first stomach acid, and then black tar.
“Felix.”
He wasn’t sure if he’d said it out loud, but a second later, Felix dropped in front of him. He cupped August’s face, angling it up to look at him. His lips were moving, but the words were thin and distant.
Felix searched his face, brow furrowed in concern.
Please stay with me, he tried to say, but the words couldn’t make it out.
But Felix stayed anyway, folding his arms around August and pulling him close. It wasn’t gentle or comforting; it was fierce and protective. And it was the last thing August remembered before his vision went black.