There's a cloaked figure, so short I'm not even sure it clears five feet. It's covered in dark layers, hacking at a rager with a CP sword.
Interesting…
A honeypot wouldn't be out here alone. Their use isn’t on the battlefield.
At their feet, I see two lumps clinging to its legs.
Jesus Christ—children!
I surge forward, sword raised, and slash my way through at least a dozen ragers, hoping like hell the kids aren't bit.
The dead drop quickly, no match for my form, and I'm left with three sets of terrified eyes staring back at me.
The taller figure, which I see is an Asian female, says something, but it’s unintelligible.
I can’t for the life of me figure out what language they’re speaking. Not that it would matter. It’s all Greek to me.
She wipes her weapon down, her eyes glued to me.
I sheathe my sword and hold my hands up, as a show of peaceful intention.
”It's going to be okay. I'm not going to hurt you.” I speak each word slowly.
The figure relaxes and points to one of her kids. Then she bends and pulls his shorts up, revealing a gaping leg wound.
”Shit,”I mutter, kneeling to get a better look, but as I search for bite marks, the woman’s sword pierces my thigh.
Searing pain engulfs my leg.
”You mother fuc—” I look up to see the sword raised, the hilt aimed at my head.
Blackness falls.
ChapterTwo
PRAY FOR MERCY
TRENT
Iawake to dull pain.
My head throbs, pulsing with fury.
Am I dead? Is this what it feels like to be a rager?
Sue…
I struggle to remember our last interaction. How upset I’d made her.
Fuck…
And now she’s getting revenge.
A foreign chattering ignites a memory. Short, harsh syllables that sound almost musical.
I’ve heard sounds like this before. In an alley…
I try to get up, but my limbs are tied. The tensing of my muscles turns my leg to fire, and I choke out a scream.