More than I could count. No collars.
“Zombies!” I shouted and split in two. I withdrew my axes and hacked through a zombie’s spine, then another and another, staying in a constant state of motion. The creatures came at me from every angle. I fought, fought so hard, landing more blows than I took. But the fact was, I did take them. A lot of them. Considering I was already battered, every strike hurt more than it should have.
Whoosh. An arrow soared past me and sank in the eye of a zombie that had been preparing to bite me.
Cole was there a second later, covered in soot. He punched into the end of the arrow, sending the tip deep into the zombie’s brain. Then he withdrew a short sword and sliced off its head.
“You’re okay,” I exclaimed.
“Yeah. Just got thrown outside.”
Two zombies rushed up behind him. I tossed my axes, nailing the offenders between the eyes. They soared backward, and when they landed, Cole was there, removing their heads, too. Yet, even without bodies, the mouths snapped at us.
Fingers tangled in my hair, jerking me down. I fell, rolling backward with the motion, kicking the zombie responsible. He stumbled, and I straightened, swinging my arm, cutting his throat. Black goo oozed.
I went to get my axes, but a hand reached out, tripping me. I crashed face-first, stars winking through my vision. Before I’d recovered, a hard weight dived on top of me, shoving the air from my lungs. But as quickly as the weight landed, it lifted. Cole jerked me to my feet.
He kicked the zombie reaching for me, then stomped on the creature’s hand, shattering the bones. Feeling no pain, the zombie leaned over and gnawed on his boot. He stabbed in the center of its skull, then, with the skull still attached to the blade, tossed it across the room.
I drew in a deep breath—mistake. Hacking cough. Watering eyes. Still too smoky in here.
In an effort to regain my composure, I rolled my shoulders, shook out my hands. If we were going to win this, I needed to push. I had the faith to do it, could even feel the energy gathering inside me, preparing. I could do this. I would do this. The zombies would lift, and they would ash, and that would be that.
Now! I raised my arms...and every zombie catapulted into the air.
A sense of triumph surged through me, strengthening me further.
Bronx and Mackenzie were on the ground, each writhing in pain. Frosty ran halfway, then slid on his knees the other half, reaching Bronx’s side. Hands flaming, Frosty punched into Bronx’s chest. The boy jolted, his back bowing.
Chance crouched beside Mackenzie and, after a slight hesitation, copied Frosty.
Movement at the corner of my eye. I switched my attention, saw two men wearing hazmat suits carting my body out the giant hole in the wall. Good glory. This had been Anima’s plan all along. Distract us with zombies and steal my body. Wherever one went, the other would always be forced to follow.
“Cole,” I shouted, running forward. All of the zombies fell, thumping against the floor. Grunts and groans sounded, and not just from the creatures.
One second I was far away from my body and the next I was right next to it. One touch, and the two linked up.
I grabbed the unsuspecting men by the neck and slammed their heads together. They released me and stumbled back; I fell.
One of the men recovered quickly and moved to punch me. I braced to take it, even as I withdrew a minicrossbow from my boot and worked it between us. Before either of us could strike, Poppy appeared out of nowhere and whacked him in the face with a piece of wood. Blood sprayed his mask. Despite the dizziness he must have been battling, he remained on his feet and snarled at her.
I squeezed the trigger, shooting him in the neck, cutting through his suit. His eyes widened as he slumped forward, over me, pinning me down. Cole was there a second later, helping me stand. He must have linked up, too, because we were solid to each other.
“Thank you,” I said.
There wasn’t time to say more. Two other Hazmats rushed out of the darkness. I pushed Poppy at Cole.
“Get her inside.” If I did it, the Hazmats would only give chase, and she could be hurt. I was the target. I would be the one to fight.
Cole obeyed, gone in a blink.
Both men swung at me. I blocked their punches with my forearms. Impact hurt, and I lost my grip on the crossbow. As soon as I had the opportunity, I kicked the first guy in the kneecap—he howled with pain and dropped—then spun and punched the other guy in the throat.
Victory...not quite yet. Someone grabbed my hair from behind and jerked. I lost my balance and fell. Dang it! Before the culprit could do any more damage, Camilla was there—
No, Camilla was the culprit.
Surprise! She smacked me in the jaw, then the gut, calling, “Come get her before it’s too late.”
Another Hazmat sprang toward me.