Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
They’re alive. They made it.
And they have ammo.
“I only have six rounds in the mag,” I tell him.
“Then you should know that shooting them won’t do any good,” Jensen says, advancing carefully toward us, eyes on the hungry ones surrounding us.
“It worked on Red.”
“Didn’t work on Hank,” Cole says grimly, and that’s when I noticed the blood and gore on Jensen’s axe. “Bullets didn’t keep him down. Only removing his head did.”
Oh, fuck.
“I think they’re herding us,” Jensen adds. “They showed up after we took care of Hank.”
“What do you mean herding us?” I say, keeping my voice low despite the panic bubbling in my chest.
“They’re smarter than they look,” Jensen explains, finally reaching Jeopardy’s side, the two horses snorting at each other. “They’re not trying to attack.”
“Oh, well did they know that Hank didn’t get the memo?”
Jensen grimaces. “They’re driving us in a specific direction.”
“Where?” I ask, glancing nervously at the silent watchers still surrounding us.
Jensen’s expression darkens. “I think the caves,” he says. “Where I lost Lainey and Adam. They’re driving us back to their territory.”
“For what purpose?” I whisper, acutely aware of Eli’s deadweight against me, of how vulnerable we are out here in the open.
Do they have…plans for us?
Jensen’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment all the anger between us is forgotten, replaced by the simple, desperate need to survive. To protect each other from the horror surrounding us.
“I have no idea,” he says grimly. “But even if we could take them out momentarily with the bullets, all together we don’t have enough, not when we don’t know how many there are. Shooting might spur them to attack and they have the advantage right now, not us. I think we should play along. Look for an opening. And hope to god we can take it.”
I nod, understanding the unspoken truth beneath his words. These hungry ones could take us at any time. Their restraint isn’t mercy—it’s calculation. They want us alive for now, for reasons I can’t begin to fathom.
And I’m not sure which is more terrifying—the thought of being torn apart by monsters, or the thought of what they might have planned instead.
25
JENSEN
They move like shadows through the trees, always just visible enough to make sure we know they’re there. Guiding us. Herding us. Playing with their prey.
I count a dozen of them now, keeping pace effortlessly despite the deep snow. Some bear the tattered remains of hiking gear or winter clothing, suggesting they were once ordinary people who came to these mountains and never left. Others wear older garments, so weathered and filthy it’s impossible to guess their original form or era. Maybe some of them are the McAlisters themselves, or the pioneers Jake and Eve McGraw encountered.
All have the same unnatural blue eyes. All move with the same predatory grace. And all watch us with patient hunger, content to wait for whatever end they have planned.
“We need to distract them,” I say to Aubrey, keeping my voice low as we pick our way carefully along the trail they’ve left open to us. Cole and I ride on Harry, keeping abreast with Jeopardy. All three of us have our weapons raised and ready, unsure if they will help. Eli, meanwhile is unconscious across Jeopardy’s withers, and much too pale.
“How?” Aubrey whispers.
“I’m not sure,” I say, feeling so fucking helpless that it gnaws at my bones. The adrenaline and sleepless nights of the last few days are starting to take their toll and my brain is feeling fuzzy and useless at the wrong fucking time.
Meanwhile, the sky has begun to darken, not just with the approaching sunset but with gathering clouds. The clear morning has given way to a threatening afternoon, the wind picking up, carrying the scent of snow. A storm is coming, and soon.
“There’s an old trapper’s cabin near here,” I eventually say, just as the first snowflakes begin to swirl around us. “If I’m right about where they’re taking us, we might be able to reach it before the storm hits in full. We could barricade ourselves inside.”
“And if they don’t want us to?” Aubrey asks, nodding toward our silent escorts still pacing us through the trees.
“Then we find out just how determined they are,” I reply, patting my rifle. It’s bravado, and we both know it. Our weapons didn’t stop Hank in the end. Who knows if Red is still dead. Might have had to bash his brains in for nothing. If all of these hungry ones decided to attack at once, we wouldn’t stand a chance.
The snow begins falling more heavily and the temperature drops, the wind cutting through my jacket. Eli stirs against Aubrey, mumbling incoherently, his face flushed with fever despite the cold.
A crack sounds sharply to our left—a branch breaking under weight of snow.
Before any of us can react, the tree line erupts with movement. Two of the hungry ones burst from the shadows near us, moving with that unnaturally fluid speed, no longer content to watch from a distance. They cross the open ground between forest and trail in seconds, blue eyes locked on us, teeth bared in feral anticipation.