My heart sank toward my knotted stomach. Pity outweighed the fear and anger, but only for a moment. A minute later, Berretti banged through the nearest fire exit on our left with Credence and Ray, AKA Gas Mask. Credence and Berretti held low-burning candles, which gave off enough light to brighten their haggard faces. Seeing the smirk on Berretti’s filled me with rage. If I was by myself and not with Ell, I would’ve easily left our hiding spot and killed the bastard where he stood. But doing so would not only jeopardize Ell’s life, but the lives of those still living. It was too risky. We had to play this by ear.
Credence looked like a completely different woman. She no longer seemed meager and weak; now she stood tall and wore a wide grin. Her being a victim had all been an act.
Ray and Larry parted from them and fanned out among the crowd of survivors as Berretti and Credence, stepping over the other dead bodies, approached the fissure. Berretti snapped his fingers at Ray. “Get on with it, then.”
Ray quickly hustled to a group of three hostages in the far corner. Jason Smith, Bella West, and their teenage son Pete lolled their heads as if drugged. I remembered Pete at Mia’s birthday party teaching the little blonde girl a lesson in static electricity with the balloons and her hair. I remembered how happy the little girl looked, and how happy Pete looked for making her happy. Now he looked like he was half-dead. In a few seconds, he would be dead.
It happened sickeningly fast, but when I play it back in my mind, I see it in slow motion. Ray pulled a blade from his pocket, snagged Pete’s hair, yanked his head back, and then slit his throat. Blood sprayed and drenched his screaming parents.
“Oh my God,” Ell gasped. “Nooooo.”
Then the blade slid across Jason and Bella’s throats. I turned away and heaved, but nothing came up. Ell suddenly swung her gun around and aimed. I could feel the anger coming off her in waves.
“Not yet,” I whispered.
“No! We can’t let them kill anyone else.”
When I turned back, Ray and Larry were dragging the bodies toward the others lined up around the fractured floor. They were positioned in a triangular pattern, which I realized resembled the crude symbol tattooed on the back of Credence’s hand.
“Stone and George will be here soon.” But they had been gone longer than they said they would. Had something happened? Had the wraiths gotten to them?
“Where’s the Scavs?” Berretti snapped at his two helpers. He was practically foaming at the mouth. “Did you get them?”
Credence moved behind Berretti and hugged him around the waist. “Leave them be. It’s too late now. She’s coming. I can feel her, and she’s hungry. She needs more blood.” Surprisingly, Berretti looked uneasy. When Credence shifted in front of him, she saw this, and she placed a hand on his cheek and stroked it. “Have no fear, my love. She will heal you. She will heal us all.”
Berretti’s flesh lay against his skull with not one layer of meat between, and when he smiled, I was reminded of the Grim Reaper. “You heard the lady,” he hollered at Ray and Larry. “More blood!”
They nodded and obediently headed toward another group of tied people. One of them was Nina Hart, the happy nurse who had helped Mia after her labor and who had become one of Ell’s closest friends. She raised her head as the two approached her and the usual sunny demeanor she possessed vanished into a mask of rage.
I kept my hand on Ell’s gun, hoping she wouldn’t try anything and listening intently for the rumble of the tank’s engine. Other than the voices and the constant droning from the fissure, and my own thundering heartbeat, I heard nothing.
Nina straightened in her binds. “Kill me yourself, Berretti, you gutless piece of shit!”
Berretti met her eye. Surprisingly, his face turned hard again. I now wondered if I actually had seen his expression waver moments earlier. I expected Nina’s words to knock some sense into him, but I was wrong. Berretti was as cold-blooded as they came.
All he said in reply was “No,” and then Ray stalked toward Nina. He brandished the same knife that had slit the throats of three others moments before.
But as soon as the steel kissed Nina’s neck, Ell ripped her rifle upward, knocking me off balance. I couldn’t stop her before she pulled the trigger.
Our cover was blown, and our cavalry hadn’t yet arrived.
Despite the stress of the situation and the considerable distance between her and her target, Ell’s aim hit the mark. The bullets ripped Ray’s face off and shredded his torso. He stumbled forward, swerving, tripped over a few of the bodies, and dove into the opened ground.
Credence and Berretti had called for more blood. Well, they had it now.
No longer able to hide, I charged forward, but before I could fire a shot, strong fingers wrangled me around the neck and took me to the bloody floor.
I caught a glimpse of the culprit. It was Lee, a man I had once called a friend. Where he came from I had no idea, but a jagged black mark stretched down his right cheek. He was infected. He was out of his mind.
My gun flew from my hands. It rolled and bounced until it, too, was lost in the abyss.
“Ell!” I choked, but she had problems of her own. Fatima, the mother of the little blonde girl I mentioned earlier, had
