Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
M y heart pounded with every crunching step of the motorcycle cop’s approach. His flashlight lit up the back windows, and I braced myself for the inevitable first question as the beam swept across the dashboard.
A car coming from behind flashed the rearview mirror.
A second later, its roar caught the cop’s attention, slowing him down.
My jaw dropped as the car swerved over two lanes and, with a grinding crash, plowed the officer’s motorcycle into the back of my car.
I screamed as the impact hurled me forward.
The black SUV reversed with a squealing crunch of gravel, then accelerated like it meant to ram me again. I wasn’t sticking around to find out.
The cop had already dived into the ditch.
I started the car and floored it. Whatever kind of vehicle this was, it had guts.
Finally, those safe driver classes my aunt paid for at the racetrack were worth something.
But the other car was gaining. I needed to change tactics.
The police would be on us too. It was time to find cover and another car.
I swerved onto the off-ramp, glanced for traffic, and blew through a red light, screeching left across the intersection.
The road was dark, tree-lined, and pitted with potholes. Damn it, I should have turned right. Too late now. I gunned it, adrenaline flooding me. A pickup loomed ahead. I swerved, narrowly missing it, then sped up, taking the next turn at tire-burning speed. The fuel light blinked on.
Two more tight curves, and the SUV’s headlights were gone. The car skidded on the next turn spraying gravel, but I wrangled control and pulled into the first driveway. Time to hide.
I cut the engine, switched off the lights, and held my breath. The house attached to the driveway looked more like a dilapidated two-story shack. No lights on. Maybe it was abandoned. I had to ditch this car and find another ride.
Grabbing the gun like it was a venomous scorpion, I opened the car door. I’d had a few days at the shooting range. If I fired it, there was a chance I’d hit something or someone.
The grind of metal gears from the backseat turned my blood cold. I whipped around, gun raised, as the back seat tipped forward. My hand trembled. My heart thundered. I should’ve been running. Instead, I froze in fury.
Wald poked his sunglasses-wearing head out of the trunk. I lowered the gun, seething but relieved.
“That was one hell of a ride, Tails,” he said, clambering out of the velvet-lined box, which, apparently, had an escape hatch.
I raised the gun back up. “Stay right there. I’m leaving this car, and you, right now.” My hands were still shaking from the escape, and now I was facing Wald with a loaded gun. I hated guns.
“The safety’s on,” he said, smirking.
I flipped it off. “Now it’s not.”
He opened the back door. I kept the gun trained on him, fully aware I was one squeeze away from hurting him.
“Go ahead and shoot me if you want,” he said. “But I’m coming with you.”
Shooting him might wipe that maddening grin off his face. And those sunglasses.
Tires crunched down the street. We both turned.
“They found us,” I said, voice cracking.
“Go. Now,” Wald ordered as the car careened into the driveway.
But I was frozen, torn between melting into the earth and needing to see who it was. Besides, I didn’t like being ordered around. By some miracle, the bumper was still attached to my car from the ramming. Must be reinforced.
The black SUV door opened. A man as tall as Wald stepped out. Blond hair. Black suit. Black leather gloves. His face looked human until the dark-haired driver got out. The first man grew taller than Wald, and his face twisted, revealing massive teeth and huge, alien-like all black eyes.
“RUN.” Wald’s intensity jolted me out of my state of frozen terror.
I sprinted up the driveway and into the house. The door wasn’t locked, which said enough.
Cobwebs clung to my hair as I bolted past a staircase and into a kitchen. Wald slammed the front door shut as I flung open the back one. Moonlight illuminated a lean-to garage behind the house—and a pickup.
A rifle cocked.
Boots pounded down the stairs. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my house?”
The front door exploded in a hail of shrapnel.
Non-human things stormed in. The man with the shotgun didn’t stand a chance. I bolted through the back door, stumbled across a porch, then half fell down the steps to a yard. Keeping my head down, I sprinted across the damp grass, desperate for cover.
I reached the lean-to which sheltered a pickup.
The forest loomed behind it. I crouched by the back of the truck, clutching the gun with both hands, sweating and praying Wald could handle whatever came next.
He didn’t seem helpless. Besides, I had a gun.
I hated guns, but tonight it felt like my lucky charm.
I ducked lower as more shots rang out—then thumps, crashes, and two final blasts.
The trees looked better by the second.
Crouching, I edged around the inside perimeter of the lean-to and squeezed between two panels of corrugated metal that made up the back wall. I prayed the creaks would be drowned out by the chaos behind me.
Keeping low, I positioned myself near the wall. Then, terror propelling me, I sprinted into the forest, hoping the lean-to blocked me from view.
Twigs crunching under my feet, I weaved through the trees, sucking in breaths of cooling pine, wondering what was on the other side of the woods.
I tripped on a branch and hit the ground with a bone-rattling thud. The gun skittered into the leaves.
So much for stealth.
Shaking, I scrambled up, frantically searching for the gun. I found it and ducked behind a tree, panting.
Then—
A clawed hand grabbed my shoulder, sending shooting pains through my chest. Terrified, certain I was about to die, I twisted around and kicked.
Breaking free, I raised the gun and fired.
The recoil knocked me backward. I hit the ground hard, choking.
The figure groaned and staggered, clutching its side.
That voice.
Wald.
Oh my God, I shot Wald.
Trembling with concern, I crawled to where he lay.
He tilted his head, sunglasses intact. Shadows masked his face.
“Why did you shoot me?” he asked, clambering to his feet. His voice was maddeningly calm. Relief drenched me like summer rain.
“I—temporary insanity? I couldn’t see you. I thought you were someone else? How about ‘I’m sorry’?”
Could he really be okay? There were other holes in his jacket. Blood and sweat mingled with leather and pine. I hugged myself to stop the shaking. “Are you bleeding? You can’t die on me.”
“Nice of you to care.” He examined the hole in his jacket, but he didn’t sound like he was dying.
“Are they gone?” I asked, rubbing imaginary cobwebs off my arms.
“Yes. They’re gone.” He grimaced.
“Then let’s get you to the ER.”
He laughed. Not a chuckle. A full-on, double-barreled laugh. Oh fuck, it must be shock. I knew it. He was dying.
Maybe the house had a phone. He wasn’t gushing blood, and he was upright. I could keep him alive long enough to get to help.
I didn’t want to touch him because then his injury would be real, but I had to make sure he was okay. I reached for his jacket, but he batted my hand away.
“I’m fine,” he growled .
“You are not. I shot you.” I wasn’t taking chances. “Come on.”
I hooked my arm through his, half dragging him toward the farmhouse. The back door was shattered. I didn’t care. I had one job. Find help.
We stepped inside the dimly lit house.
The smell hit first
Fresh meat.
Broken furniture and shadowy pillows… Oh, my God—not pillows.
Body parts.
I turned toward Wald, slipped, and landed in a pool of something gooey and slick. The stench of blood hit my throat. I gagged. Wald hauled me up.
Retching, I stumbled outside, dropped to the grass, and heaved into the bushes.
There were people inside.
Dead people.
Someone had killed them.
Wald wasn’t dead.
I inhaled lungfuls of night air and wiped sweat from my face.
Footsteps approached. Grass rustled. Wald.
The sound stopped, and I turned, my heart choking me. “What kind of monster are you?”
“I’m not a monster,” he said with the grin I’d decided I hated.
“What else could do—that?” I shouted, backing into a crouch. Jail sounded preferable.
I dashed across the lawn to the driveway. The SUV was parked behind the black sedan. I yanked the SUV door open. The cabin reeked of clove cigarettes and black coffee.
I jumped in and hit the start button .
Nothing.
I searched the visor, the console, the glove box.
Nothing.
I slammed my fists on the wheel and screamed. The SUV was parked too close. I couldn’t get the sedan out. Maybe I could push the SUV.
I shifted it into neutral and opened the door.
Wald appeared around the corner, walking like he had all the time in the world. Concern blended with horror. I’d shot him, but he’d done things I didn’t want to picture.
I got into the black sedan and hit the start button.
Nothing.
I pounded it again, accidentally hitting the horn.
Wald was leaning against the house, dangling a key fob.
The car doors locked with a snick.
I screeched, slammed the unlock button, and stormed toward him, ready to commit actual murder.
I might not shoot him again.
But I was very, very tempted.