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“What the—“
She pulled Saff close, curling over her to block any exposed part of her body.
And then—
Three seconds.
That’s all it took for the thunderous explosion to shake the world around her.
She flinched, gritting her teeth as she pressed herself down against Saff’s body, cradling her head in her hands.
Small flecks of debris rained down on her bare arms, bouncing off the thin fabric on her back.
After a few seconds, she slowly eased up, not daring to move from where she blocked Saff.
She listened intently for any sign of life off in the distance.
But there was none.
Finally, she released a tight breath and straightened up, pulling the top half of Saff’s body with her.
She pressed her head down into her chest, making sure she still felt the slight rise and fall of her breath. And her body relaxed a fraction as she felt the steady movement.
“It’s okay,” she murmured into Saff’s ear. “You’re safe.”
But for how long, she didn’t know.
That blast would’ve caught the attention of every infected in the area, and they wouldn’t have long before they’d show up.
It wasn’t worth trying to move Saff again. She knew they wouldn’t get far.
Instead, she’d need to shoot off the flare, even if it did alert everyone to where they were. There was no other choice.
She reached out, finding her backpack once again. But instead of the flare gun, she felt a second cold metal orb.
Her fingers traced over the grenade she hadn’t known was there.
She took it out, carefully setting it on the ground beside her. Then her hand returned to the pack, pushing aside a barrage of items until she finally felt the flare gun.
She took a steadying breath, holding the light weight in her hand. Then she shifted, half turning her body to face down the other side of the road, where they’d been headed.
She lifted it into the air, then, without a second of hesitation, pulled the trigger.
A light click went off.
Then—nothing.
She paused for a second, waiting. Then, after a few more seconds, she pulled the trigger again.
Nothing.
Her hand dropped from the sky.
“No,” she muttered, striking the gun against her thigh. “No, no, no.”
She hit it against her other palm, then lifted it up again, pulling the trigger once more.
And still, not a single shot.
