Page 183 of After the Burn

Five women moved inside it.

No.

Five rotters, that used to be women.

One threw herself against the fence with a thud when she spotted us. Another limped, a ruined foot dragging uselessly behind her. A third woman still had on pieces of a colorful, flower-patterned dress.

Then I saw blonde hair.

She stood near the back, in the shadows, head tilted. Her hair was filthy and tangled around a gray face. Something red and white hung from her wrist.

My heart stopped.

I recognized that bracelet. I glanced down at my left wrist. Avery and Emery had found old craft supplies back at the farmhouse and made matching ones for all four of us.

I knew her even before she ambled closer.

“Lila.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

TARYN

For several seconds I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Lila collided with the fence, her fingers clutching the chain-link, teeth snapping. Her eyes were empty, showing no sign of recognition.

All the things that made her who she was had vanished.

Wren whispered behind me, “Oh, Robin.”

I felt as if something inside my chest had split open. As I stepped closer to the fence, Lila snarled.

Her bracelet caught on the fence.

The memory of her laughter filled my mind as she and Avery playfully swung pillows at each other. I remembered her sitting and listening as I vented about Adrian and Lucas. There were nights when she comforted me after I woke in a sweat, haunted by thoughts of Ben’s death.

I’d come all this way to get her. But I was too damn late.

A man laughed somewhere to our right, and Wren and I both turned.

Nash stood near the far end of the pen, with two other men with him.

He gripped a woman's upper arm. She was alive, but barely. Her lip was busted, and she had a black eye. Her arm hung at an odd angle, likely dislocated.

She appeared terrified, her breaths coming in short, panicked gasps.

Nash, the dick, shoved her toward the fence, and rotters slammed into it. The woman screamed, and Nash hauled her back. His friends laughed and cheered him on.

He continued to do this several more times until the rotters in the pen were completely frantic, trying to get their next meal.

My vision narrowed, and I took a step toward Nash before I could stop myself.

“No, Robin!” Wren whispered urgently.

It was too late. Nash had spotted me.

He smiled delightedly. “What do we have here?” He released the woman, and she quickly stumbled away.