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I have no idea when I changed… the old me would never have done this.
My feet gently kiss the grassy ground, and when no one charges toward me, I slip forward and cut through the night. This better not be a mistake.
Pulling into a dark location under a massive pine, I stare out to the river, where shadows move about.
Someone’s backing away, holding what looks like a sword. I squint. Nope, it’s a branch.
I hold tight, sinking against the tree. My heart trips over itself, but I’m as silent as the night.
In a split second, the figure spins and runs in my direction, several others chasing right after her. I shudder, my brain firing off sparks and commands to run, but I don’t dare move.
The girl darts past me, crying out, while three Shadow Monsters charge after her. Well, her first mistake was making a sound. It only attracts more of those things.
I breathe deeply and crouch, patting the ground. Finding a long branch, I snap it over my knee to create a sharpened point on one end. Then I lunge after the girl. The only reason I’m helping is because I feel shitty enough as it is, running from the pack, and everyone needs a helping hand sometimes.
Running after them, I come up on a shorter undead first and jab the pointy end of the branch into the back of its neck with ferocity. The sharpness cuts deep, breaking skin and sliding into him. Thing about the infected is, their bones and bodies are a lot softer than living creatures’, so they’re easier to penetrate.
It shrieks and falls on its knees. Plucking the stick out with a gooey sound, I leap over him and run after the second one, shoving the weapon right into its back. A kick to the back of the knees, and the undead lurches forward, falling onto hands and knees. I shove my foot against its spine and grip the branch sticking out of its back. Then I drive down through its supple body and into the soft ground, pinning it in place. I have no idea if it will stay, but I swing and sprint after the girl’s screams while stealing another branch off the ground. It’s thinner than the last weapon, and the wood feels harder to the touch.
Trepidation crawls up my spine. This is madness on my part, running at night where other predators, including rogue wolves, lurk. But she’s making enough noise to wake up the entire mountain.
So I scramble forward, where it’s so dark I can barely make out my own hands. My foot catches on a root and suddenly I’m tripping forward, my pulse racing with fright.
I slam into someone, crashing into them hard.
Panic squeezes my lungs and a scream rises out of my throat.
But when the guttural growl of an infected spills into the night from the person beneath me, I quickly scramble back and plunge my weapon into the back of its head, where it’s softest, over and over as the creature bucks and fights to get out from under me. But I don’t pause, not even when something wet coats my hands.
When it quiets down, I finally stop and just sit there, straddling a dead infected, gasping for air.
I hate this day so much!
I don’t know what took over me, as I’ve never reacted this way before—never acted so aggressively.
A sniffle comes from up ahead, and I lift my gaze to a dark bundle crouching near an oversized shrub.
“Are you okay?” I ask as I push myself to my feet and wipe my hands down my pants. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”
Slowly, I creep forward when a young girl steps out. She’s maybe thirteen or fourteen years old… God, she’s just a child. She only reaches my shoulders in height.
When foliage snaps behind me, I snatch her hand, drawing her to my side. “Shh. No words. Swift and silent, okay?”
She nods, and we both dart to the closest tree with low branches I can find. I swallow hard and help lift her, pushing her butt to climb up faster. I was her age when I lost my mama and had to survive alone in this world. With that thought, a terrible sorrow slivers over my heart at everything I’ve lost.
More than anything, I long for my Alphas right now, so agonizingly hard that I feel like my chest is cracking in half.
