Dal didn’t get angry very often. Ever since childhood, he’d made it a point to check his temper. The last thing he wanted was to end up like his dad.
But every once in a while, it was impossible to suppress his anger. Like right now. Watching those swaggering Russians made Dal want to break something.
Something moved in the shop behind them. It sounded like a piece of furniture being moved. Dal shot up straight, momentarily forgetting that he was exposed in the front window.
Mr. Cecchino raised his gun, indicating the northwest corner of the Goodwill. Dal nodded.
Since Mr. Cecchino and Lena had the guns, Dal picked up a metal poker from a fireplace set on display next to the sofas. Mr. Cecchino nodded to him in approval.
They inched their way to the back of the store in a tight group. As they did, a growl rippled through the room.
Dal let out a breath. A dog. It was just a dog. Nothing to worry about. Poor thing was probably scared shitless with all the stuff going on around them. It pro—
Something flew between the racks, coming straight for them. Dal had a half second to register a petite girl wearing a Rossi junior college sweatshirt over stretch pants. Her teased bangs gave her an extra five inches. Her face and neck were criss-crossed with black veins.
She charged straight at Mr. Cecchino like a wild animal, hissing when she struck. Mr. Cecchino fell backwards, gun clattering to the ground.
The girl growled, snapping at his face like a rabid dog. Mr. Cecchino barely had enough time to slam both hands against her sternum to keep her from biting off the end of his nose.
Dal reacted on instinct, delivering a sharp kick to the girl’s ribcage. He kicked her so hard that she rolled sideways. But instead of staying down or running away, she bounded up onto all fours. Lips pulled back to expose teeth that were red with ... was that blood? Seeing gore framed in a face laced with black veins was one of the most terrifying moments of his life.
Dal didn’t have time to work out all the strange details before the girl attacked a second time. She lunged.
This time, Mr. Cecchino was ready. He swung a fist and clocked her in the side of the head. He hit her so hard she flew sideways.
It should have knocked her out cold. Dal had been hit like that more times in his life than he could count, and most times he blacked out for at least a few seconds. Mr. Cecchino was a large, strong man. The blow had been suitable for a drunken bar brawl.
But the blow barely phased the girl. Once again, she sprang onto all fours and charged—this time, straight at Lena.
Lena didn’t even have time to raise her machine gun. The black-veined girl tackled her to ground.
Dal’s nerves were frayed. He’d already been on the verge of anger. Seeing Lena’s life in danger yet again made him snap.
Rage boiled up. He was so mad he could hardly see straight.
Dal had played baseball for a few years when he was a kid. He’d been a pretty good hitter. Then the coach started asking about the many bruises Dal showed up with at practice. His parents pulled him off the team shortly after.
But Dal still remembered what it felt like to hold a baseball bat. Raising the fireplace poker, he gripped it like a bat. He wound his torso and swung with all his might, aiming for the head with a wordless roar.
He felt the blow through his entire body. The crack of the girl’s skull was nothing like hitting a baseball.
The sound of shattering bone took him all the way back to his eighth birthday, when his dad got roaring drunk. He’d pushed Dal’s mom so hard from the front steps of the porch that she’d broken her arm. Dal had never forgotten that sound. That had been the first time he’d heard that awful sound, but not the last.
He’d always known he had the capacity to make that sound. To be just like his father.
He couldn’t stop himself. He swung the poker, then he swung it again, all the while roaring at the black-veined girl in wordless rage.
He saw his dad hit his mother over, and over, and over again. His father’s enraged face still followed him around, even after all these years.
Dal knew he looked just like his dad right now. He was his father.
And now Lena and Mr. Cecchino knew the truth about him.
Even knowing he was exposing his deepest, darkest secret wasn’t enough to still his hand. He hit the girl over and over again. Blood splattered his face, the floor, and Lena.
He couldn’t stop.
Chapter 18Reanimated
AS EVERYONE PILED INTO the cabin around him, Leo absorbed the sight of Adam rising to his feet. Blood dripped down his neck. Black veins completely encased his face. His eyes were crazed and bloodshot, just like Lars had been.
Adam should be dead. Adam was dead. The amount of blood on the floor proved it. Besides that, Leo had seen his dead body. There was nothing left in the body stretched out before the fireplace.
Yet here he was. Reanimated and staring out at them like they were nothing more than rabbits.
Bruce was the first besides Leo to notice Adam. The kid was frozen in place, mouth working in silent terror.
Adam’s lips peeled back from his teeth. His gaze settled on Jennifer as she entered the cabin. She was too busy talking to Anton to notice what was going on.
“Jennifer!” Leo shouted.
She jerked, stopping just beside the kitchen table. Her eyes registered Adam as he zeroed in on her. She squeaked and leaped onto the table. As Adam rushed her, she jumped.
Several things happened at once.
Jennifer grabbed the ceiling beam and flipped herself on top of it. She swung her legs out of reach and crouched atop
