Flesh

“Dan!”

 

Finn bolted for the side exit, throwing the door open so hard it slammed back against the interior wall. Who cared about noise now?

 

“Al?” He searched the skyline and the gutter framing the building. “Al, you there?”

 

The door slammed open once more and Dan joined him on the strip of weeds. “Where? Where is she?”

 

“Heard something on the roof.”

 

“The roof?” The big man grinned like someone had flicked all his best switches at once. “She loves roofs and attics. How do we get up there?”

 

Dan hoofed it down the side of the building with Finn following tight. He nearly ran into the man’s back when he suddenly halted.

 

“No, no, no.”

 

Blood and gore splattered the rear parking lot. It was far too familiar a scene. Flies lay thick on the ground. The place stank.

 

Finn’s words petered out as they both stood and stared. Something nastier replaced the fear and worry that had dogged him through the night. “What do we do if she’s been bitten?”

 

Daniel gave him a glacial look, his face like a stranger’s. “Then we’re too late. She would have already … she’d have … you know, if she could.”

 

Finn nodded, the warmth of the morning sun leaching straight out of him. Because yes, she would have killed herself rather than turn.

 

The building beside him made the same creaking, groaning noise. There she was, climbing down in slow motion. One foot was wedged into a broken window while the other gamely searched out the platform provided by the forklift below.

 

His lungs swel ed in his chest like his ribs couldn’t hold them. She was alive.

 

Her fingers were clutching the edge of the roof. If they made a noise, she might startle and fall, but she was not being left to deal on her own.

 

Finn moved before he was even aware of it. He scaled the piece of machinery, climbing onto its roof, hands reaching for her. She squeaked and kicked back, nearly nailing him in the balls with the heel of her boot. One grimy hand slipped and she flailed in midair, twisting and turning, trying to fight him off.

 

“Al. Stop.” Finn fisted his hand in the waist of her jeans, throwing the other arm around her thighs to steady her. She hung suspended by one arm, her feet stil a foot or two off the roof of the forklift. “Al, it’s me! Calm down.”

 

Her other hand gave way and she fell the remaining distance. One foot missed the forklift’s roof, slipped into the abyss between machine and building, and sent them both off balance. His arm had ridden up to her chest, but his hand was stil tight in the back of her jeans, caught nice and snug between them. Al slapped her palms against the side of the building, which stopped them from falling. No way he was letting go now. Not now and not ever.

 

“I’ve got you, Al. Everything’s fine.” Finn put his mouth close to her ear and tried to talk her down, because she shook like a leaf and still wouldn’t acknowledge him. “Pull up your foot for me. I’m right here, Al.”

 

She made no move. The back of her dirty t-shirt rose and fell chaotically.

 

“Al, please. Listen to me.”

 

After a God-awful time she turned, showing him the shiny red mark taking up half her cheek. It sat on the same side of her face as the fading brown and green bruise from her concussion. Her eyes were wide and glassy. Their poor girl. Anger and fear filled him all over again.

 

He waited.

 

“Finn?” she asked, voice a scratchy whisper.

 

He smiled. “Hey. Everything okay?”

 

She blinked twice before lowering her chin. “Yeah.”

 

“Alright, that’s good. Lift your foot up onto the roof for me.”

 

“My foot?” Ali gazed down, mystified, but her foot duly lifted. “Dan?”

 

“Here, babe,” the man said from behind them.

 

Finn carefully turned her.

 

Dan’s face showed nothing at the damage done, from her scalded hands to the burn on her face. His voice was calm and measured.

 

“Hey, hon.”

 

She tried clearing her throat, coughed. “I’m not bitten or anything. Can we go now?”

 

“Sure.” Dan held his arms out and Finn guided her down, not letting go until she was firmly in Dan’s grip.

 

She was okay. She was fine. Finn put his hands on his knees, bent double and breathed deep. He kept his eyes on her. Handcuffing himself to her held appeal. Man. The feeling of relief almost dropped him to the ground.

 

Santa clapped his hands lightly, applauding Al’s reappearance. Erin beamed. Whatever. Apart from Daniel, he didn’t want anyone near her until they sorted this shit out. The big man obviously felt the same way, keeping an arm tight around Al while he held a water bottle to her lips.

 

Al gave the two a brief nod, gazes stuck on the sticky mess on the street. “It was dogs.”

 

“Dogs?” Dan pulled her in closer.

 

“A pack. They had red eyes. It was … it was crazy.”

 

“I bet,” the big man rubbed at her arms, like she needed the heat put back into her despite the morning sun that was now beating down.

 

Santa squinted. “Dogs? Honey, are you sure?”