I was not going to die here. I’d made it out of situations that’d looked even more dire before. This kitty cat was going to make full use of her nine lives.
“You cunt,” Billy snarled. He slashed at me again, too fast for me to block. The blade sliced across my forearm, drawing a thin line of blood.
I jabbed at him again, weaving back and forth. He raised the knife, and then he opened his mouth, sucking in a mass of air.
Understanding hit me like a cold slap. He was going to holler for the other men, and in a second I’d be outnumbered with only a broken chair arm to defend myself.
In that instant, my mind narrowed down to one undeniable fact: I couldn’t let him get out that yell, no matter what I had to do.
My body reacted without conscious thought. I hurled myself at Billy, heedless of the knife and his grasping hands, thinking only of cutting off his voice and ending that sadistic fucking smile before he killed yet another Katz.
He hadn’t been expecting me to launch myself at him that boldly. We tumbled over, me on top of him, his shout coming out as a strangled yelp—and then I slammed the jagged end of the chair arm as hard as I could into his neck.
The start of his yelp turned into a gurgle. Hot blood spurted up to splash his face. A little splattered my shirt. I jerked backward, leaving the stake embedded in his throat, nausea twisting my stomach.
He gripped his neck to try to stop the flow of blood, thrashing like a wounded animal, but only for a few moments. Then his arms went limp. His body twitched and stilled on the floor, blood flowing from the wound in a steady stream. All the anger and life in his eyes glazed over.
He was dead.
I’d never actually killed anyone before. I’d imagined it plenty of times, but actually going through with the act…
I couldn’t say I’d enjoyed it, but I didn’t feel any particular remorse either. The only emotion gripping me other than the twinge of queasiness was the sense that the bastard had deserved it. Hell, he’d deserved worse.
I could almost hear Dad whisper in my ear: “There’s the killer I trained all these years.”
Before I could shudder at that thought, the door burst open. Shit. The other men had heard Billy’s call for help after all.
Only two of them, though, and I’d already disposed of one opponent. They froze just inside with matching expressions of stunned disbelief, taking in me, disheveled, panting, and blood-speckled, and Billy’s corpse on the floor.
I might not get another chance. Snatching a second broken piece of wood off the floor in case I needed it, I bolted for the closest window. With a quick flip, I rammed my heels into the glass with all my strength.
Pain radiated through my calves, but the pane shattered. The men shouted and hurtled after me, one of them reaching to his waist—damn it, of course he’d have a gun.
I dropped to the floor and kicked out my legs fast enough to knock his feet out from under him. As he toppled, the gun jolted from his fingers. The other guy snatched at me, and I stabbed my second stake into his upper arm. Then I leapt for the window.
A few shards of glass bit into my palms, but I didn’t give a shit. I curled my body into a roll and tumbled through the narrow opening, swinging my legs down just in time to land on my feet. The second they hit the ground, I was running.
The afternoon humidity closed around me, condensing in my lungs. Shouts rang out through the window behind me. I sprinted in the opposite direction from the van, figuring more of Colt’s men—even Colt himself—might be hanging around by the entrance to the yard.
Footsteps pounded out onto the cracked concrete, but I’d already reached the chain-link fence. I scrambled up it and hefted myself over in a few adrenaline-powered motions.
Up ahead lay a sea of rusty shipping containers with several low brick buildings beyond them. I wove between the big metal boxes, using them for cover. Voices hollered behind me.
“She went that way! Come on!”
“What the fuck is wrong with you people?”
I couldn’t take any enjoyment from their frustration while my life still hung in the balance. I pumped my legs as hard as they’d go, only taking a tiny bit of relief when I reached the first of the actual buildings. The whole area seemed to be abandoned. I wasn’t familiar with this part of the Bend.
I clambered over another fence, dashed through a couple more yards, and found myself on an unfamiliar street. On instinct, I ran in what felt like the direction that’d take me farther from Colt and his goons. Eventually I’d have to figure out where the hell I was and how to get back to someplace I knew, but for now I just wanted to put distance between me and the guns.
The heat was baking my skin and sending up faint whiffs of a sickly meaty scent from the splatter of Billy’s blood on my shirt. I grimaced, wiping at the sweat now soaking the back of my neck, and just kept running.
Five blocks, ten, twenty, veering in a new direction every few minutes just to make it harder for any pursuers to follow. Finally, when I hadn’t heard any sounds from behind me in ages and I could see actual traffic on the road up ahead, I slowed down to take stock.
My lungs ached, and my cheek still stung where Colt had hit me. My palms throbbed, blood seeping from the glass cuts. Bracing myself, I plucked out a couple of shards that were still embedded in my flesh and glanced around.
I was standing next to a furniture warehouse with a foreclosure sign pasted on the window. A row of bland low-rise apartment buildings stood up ahead by the busier street. A couple of kids were chasing each other around the playground behind them, where only one of the swings was still attached to both its chains. I’d probably give children nightmares in my current state.
I was about to slink past them to where I could check the street sign when a car engine rumbled not from up ahead but behind me. My head jerked around, my body bracing to run… but the car looked way too familiar. I’d ridden in that deep blue Mustang before, hadn’t I?
As I hesitated, Kaige’s and Wylder’s faces came into focus through the windshield.
I took a few steps back toward the furniture warehouse, but then I stood my ground and waited for them to reach me. My hands balled at my sides. I wasn’t dismissing the idea of making a run for it until I’d heard what they had to say.