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“Come and help!” a woman called out to someone else.

“Stay back!” Luke snapped.

Our group tightened without a word.

None of the bystanders listened. People rushed in as if we were almost done, but the risk level had barely changed.

“We’ve got it,” a man in jeans and a hoodie shouted.

“No!” I spun around and pointed at the line of cars. “Get back there.”

A bearded man with a shovel charged straight between Luke and me, heading for an infected woman. The woman lunged, and he swore as he swung at her, his shovel so close to my shoulder that the swoosh rippled across my sleeve.

“For fuck’s sake,” I said. “Move out of the way.”

And he still hadn’t taken out the damn infected. When it lurched again, even closer this time, he froze.

I grunted and swung my axe at the infected woman’s neck before she could bite him. The moment she overbalanced, I kicked her knee, yanked the blade free, and took her out.

“You’re making it worse,” I said, air wrenching from me. “Just stay out of our way.”

Too much movement. Too much confusion.

More people dived in, and for a second, I lost my bearings.

A scream tore down the line. Metal clanged against metal. Bodies collided, and two people fell.

The infected man trapped between the cars thrashed harder, and the woman in the silver sedan panicked, throwing her door open.

“Wait!” Varesh rushed over and helped her out of the car, holding her up when her legs threatened to give way. “You’re all right,” he said. “Come with me.”

An infected woman with a torn cheek and bleeding mouth stumbled around the rear of her car, setting her sights on Varesh.

“Watch your back,” I called, bringing my axe down on another one.

“I’ve got it.” Tim moved fast, hammer clenched in one fist. He charged straight for Varesh as the infected lunged, shoving both him and the woman free of danger.

As Varesh stumbled clear, the infected grabbed the back of Tim’s jacket.

My breath stopped, and every muscle locked in place.

She lowered her head, teeth bared.

“Tim!”

Luke got there a second too late. The woman’s teeth had already clamped onto Tim’s jacket. God, right there on his shoulder. The material tore as Luke yanked her free. He slammed her onto the ground and ended her with his pickaxe.

A man ran past me, clipping my shoulder. I shoved away from him and ran for my people.

Tim stumbled, planting a foot to steady himself. His hammer clattered onto the road, and one hand went straight to his shoulder.

“Did it bite you?” Luke asked, straightening.

I reached him and grabbed his sleeve, breaths tearing from me. “Did it get through your jacket?”

The blood soaking the fabric could have come from the infected’s ruined mouth. It didn’t mean her bite had broken through his skin.

Tim flexed his fingers and lifted his arm. “I don’t know.” He winced. “I think—”