Bad news: he could easily look up.
I had no other option. Using pieces of bark as handrails and stepstools, I shimmied my way up the tallest I could find. Every inch was agony. Finally I reached a large enough limb to support my weight and stopped, pressing my back against the trunk. I palmed the two daggers sheathed at my ankles and drew my knees up to my chest, trembling...waiting.
A horde of birds flew overhead, and a gentle wind whistled, hopefully masking the thunderous beat of my heart and the wheeze in my lungs. In a battle to the death, what would I do? I had no problem fighting zombies, ending them. They weren’t people. He was.
He wanted to kill me. I should have no problem ending him, too. And there he was, inching from one tree to the other, using the trunks as a shield. He scanned one way, then the other, before moving on. He scanned up, and he scanned down, and— Our gazes locked.
Instinct kicked in, and I launched a dagger before he could aim his gun. The tip embedded in his shoulder, flinging him backward.
Pop! He’d managed to squeeze off a shot. The bullet hit just above my shoulder, and bark flew in every direction. Some of it landed in my mouth, and I spat it out as I jumped.
Impact banged my teeth together. I tasted old pennies. Go, go, go. I took several steps, intending to run—then I stopped. If I ran, he would probably find me again. There wasn’t anywhere to hide. I could throw another knife and maybe stop him, maybe not. He could just shoot at me again.
It might be better to face him here and now.
Trembling, I turned and approached him. He was lying on the ground, his chest rising and falling in quick succession as he struggled to sit up. His gun had been knocked out of his hand and rested a few feet away.
He dived for it when he spotted me, but then, so did I. I beat him by a fraction of a second, straightening and pointing the barrel at him.
He glared at me. “You wouldn’t.”
“You’re still wearing my dagger like it’s this year’s must-have accessory. Of course I’ll shoot you.” My trembling became more pronounced, the weight of the gun almost too much for me to handle.
He replaced the glare with a smug smile, saying sweetly, “You want to go to prison for murder, sweetness?”
“I want to survive, and we both know this would be self-defense.” My finger twitched on the trigger. Come on, Cole. “Why do you work for Anima?” I asked to stall.
“Why not? The pay is good.”
“You don’t care that the company isn’t interested in destroying the zombies? That they hope to make money off them?”
The look he gave me was pitying. “No need to give me a speech about right and wrong. I’d fight for your side if the price was right.” As he spoke, he slowly angled to the side.
He was planning something.
I fired the gun, my arms jerking up with the recoil.
He grunted and pulled his leg into his chest.
“Move again,” I said, “and I’ll put a hole in the other one.”
A mouthful of curses was hurtled at me. “I’m going to make you pay for this, little girl.”
Threats? Seriously?
I shot his other leg. Just. Because.
As he writhed in pain, the bushes to my left rustled. Footsteps pounded. I backed away, intending to run. Or hide. Or both.
“Ali!” Cole called.
“Here!” I shouted back, overjoyed.
Cole and Veronica burst into my line of sight.
He’d brought her with him.
Cole seemed to take in the entire scene with only a glance. He dived on top of the man and whaled, throwing punch after punch. The gun fell out of my hand, and my knees gave out.
Now that I was safe, the surge of strength abandoned me completely. As my eyes closed, I saw Veronica watching Cole beat the man senseless. There was no recognition on her face. No remorse over what was happening to Anima’s employee.
Maybe she wasn’t the spy, either.
Chapter 21
Weep Some More