This is not good.
I gather my boys, hoping that whoever is in the hall doesn’t come any closer.
Doors slam shut, again and again. The place is being scavenged.
I’ve never had to kill a man before. I’ve always been lucky enough to slip away undetected. Fate has forced the issue, however, so I grab the remaining sword out from under the bed and usher my boys into the bathroom, close the door, and take a place in front of them.
Hopefully, I will only have to face down one opponent, but it’s possible there are several.
Hyun sobs. Duri comforts him, which is a relief because I don’t want to take my eyes off the door.
A distinct slamming sounds, and I realize the door leading into the room has been flung open.
A woman’s voice drifts into the bathroom. She’s mumbling something. I look through the hole left from when Hyun locked himself in, and I see a disheveled form that could easily be mistaken as one of the dead.
I pray she doesn’t look further. That she leaves this door closed.
But things rarely go my way.
The door to the bathroom opens, and on the other side is a woman with messy blonde hair and dull gray eyes.
She stares at me, her chest rising and falling in heavy pants.
“Go!” I say the English word perfectly. Perhaps she’ll take pity because of my terrified boys, but judging by her expression, I shouldn’t count on it.
She’s angry, growing more so every moment she looks at me. She snaps angry words I do not understand.
Except for one…
“Trent.”
Her face screws and she unleashes an ear-piercing scream.
“Why-you?!” she yells, thrusting a hunting blade at me.
I dodge it easily.
I understand the words perfectly, as they’re some of the few I’ve come to fully grasp. She wants to know why Trent is here with me and not home with her.
I never wanted to take something that wasn’t mine, and I can’t say why Trent has stayed as long as he has. But now I know he must go. He’s just as bad as Ji-hoon, if not worse, because at least my husband never pretended to be something he wasn’t.
The woman pulls back the blade, putting her head in her hands as she walks in a tight circle, mumbling. She looks deranged, but maybe that’s because she’s been worried about Trent.
But looking at her, I don’t think that’s right. She looks crazed. There’s something off about her that goes beyond a few poor nights of sleep. She doesn’t look…healthy.
I don’t think she’s been bitten, because this is no chance encounter. She knew where we were staying. She stakes us out. And now, if I had to guess, I’d say she intends to kill me.
A sickening feeling twists in my gut. If I die, who will protect my children?
I hold the sword out in front of me and shout, “Go!”
She casts me scathing eyes.
I take a step forward, trying to look bigger than I am, holding my sword menacingly in front of me.
“Go!”
A sardonic look crosses her face. She has no intention of leaving. This is a fight to the death.