I hop up, trembling. Suddenly the feel of the rifle in my hand is repulsive. I set it down on the ground, then, spotting my own Guardian gun, grab it. I look at the place Tank disappeared to in the distance. I’ve never shot a person before. I’ve killed Floraes, though, but it’s just not the same.
“Are you okay?” Brenna asks.
I shake my head. “He’s going to die out there.”
“Good. He should die.”
I try to tell myself that he’s a murderer and deserves to die. But what does that make me?
“You’ve never killed anyone before, have you?” Brenna gives me a look that’s almost motherly. It’s so out of character, it jolts me from my trance.
“I did. A long time ago.” I don’t recognize my own voice, it’s so eerily calm. I lick my lips and try to recover. “When everything first happened and I was just trying to survive day to day. I was alone and then had finally met another survivor. But he was going to hurt me, so I rigged a car alarm and set it off. The Floraes got him.”
“Well, Tank was sure as shit going to hurt you too,” Brenna says, her moment of tender concern gone. “He thought he did kill you. . . . Hell, I thought he killed you. Why aren’t you dead?”
At the mention of me being shot, the pain floods back to my breastbone. I touch the hole in the sweatshirt I am wearing over my synth-suit and wince. Pete pounded my chest with a knife, but the bullet was ten times worse. I’ll have bruises upon bruises. I cough experimentally, sending a sharp pain through my ribs. It stings when I move, but I don’t think there’s any internal damage. I may have lucked out again.
“It’s that ninja suit you wear, isn’t it?” Brenna asks. “Where can I get one of those? That might be even more useful than that Florae repellent sound thing you have.”
The emitter. I frantically scan the ground for my pack, spotting it a few feet from where I’d left it. Someone must have tripped over it during the scuffle. I spring over to it, my chest burning as I bend over to grab the emitter. I let out a groan.
The emitter is broken in two.
It takes a few seconds for the fear to hit me, but when it does I can’t move.
“That doesn’t look so good,” Brenna whispers, looking around. “You think it still works?”
I stare at the broken emitter, my legs heavy. I’ve relied on it so much these past few months. Now it’s gone. We’re sitting ducks.
I will my limbs to work and quickly sling the pack over my shoulder and, ignoring the pain that shoots through my ribs, spin in place with my gun. “We need to find shelter, now,” I hiss. Two loud gunshots had gone off. Maybe there weren’t any Floraes around to hear them. Maybe we’re still okay.
Yet out of the corner of my eye, I catch a flash of green streaking across the parking lot.
The world seems to slow. And now I see it—a Florae. It rises slowly over a car. Its eyes are milky and unseeing, but its ears—or earholes—are a hundred times sharper than our own. I know it’s heard us. And if one has, there will soon be many more.
Brenna and I look at each other. Our instinct, of course, is to run. But that would only make things worse. We’d go in different directions, and the Florae, with all its inhuman speed, would hunt us down in seconds. Our only hope is to stick together.
The two of us stand there as if time has stopped. I wish I could sign to her, like I did so many times to Baby. I hold up a hand to try and convey we should be still. She shows me she understands with a small, stiff nod.
And then everything happens at once.
I raise my arm and shoot the creature with my silenced Guardian gun before it can figure out exactly where we are. It falls, but there’s no time for relief. Another appears to our left from another car, attracted by the minimal noise. I turn to Brenna and put my fingers to my lips. She again nods her understanding.
We can make our stand here; there are plenty of abandoned cars to hide behind. But I don’t know how many are coming, and they could attack us from any direction. It would be pointless to use the rifle, as the sound of the shots would just bring more. They are only a few now, and far enough away for us to find someplace where we can be quiet and wait for Them to disperse.
I point behind us, to the shelter of the strip mall. We need someplace secure that we can hide.
Another creature appears a few hundred feet behind Brenna, listening. I take aim and silently mouth one word at her.
Run.
Chapter Twenty-four
We sprint past rows of cars toward the strip mall. I run silently, like I used to years ago, in New Hope, my mouth gaping. Brenna, on the other hand, makes a lot of noise, loping heavily along. She’s fast and strong but not light on her feet. Her loud shoes banging on the pavement will only bring more Floraes. I shoot three before we make it to the auto shop.
The door is already wrecked, the wood shattered by Florae claws. Whoever tried to hide in here before didn’t last long. The floor is covered in rust-colored bloodstains. Auto parts are scattered everywhere inside. A car is perched high up on a lift—a great place to hide, but I have no idea how to get us up there.