The first few he sent sliced the shoulder off a rotter on the front lines. Not bad, but he needed to work on his aim.
“Whoa, what was that?” Parrish asked. She’d already reached the front row of rotters and sliced through them with a flash of blue light that separated a dozen heads from bodies.
He couldn’t let her show him up like that.
Crash licked his lips and took a deep breath. “Just something new I’m trying,” he said.
He set his sights on a group off to the far left, away from the rest of his group.
He breathed power into his hands, amplifying the energy sparking at his fingertips.
With rapid motions, he threw lightning daggers at the group, aiming for the head and not letting up until he’d unleashed a barrage of at least fifty. The magical daggers made a cracking sound like miniature lightning as they left his hands, and Crash whooped as they hit their marks, knocking one rotter after the other down to the ground.
Hell, this was more fun than a machine gun any day of the week.
He’d played video games his whole life and never dreamed he’d be some kind of superhero in reality, so despite the extreme danger and the threat of death at every turn, there was a part deep inside that was enjoying this.
“Don’t get too cocky there, lightning-boy,” Karmen said, knocking him down a peg. “We’ve got incoming.”
He’d forgotten to look up until she said that, but now there wasn’t a second to waste.
The bird-like women were back, claws stretched toward him. They were too close for him to send daggers at them, but just as the long, razor-like claws reached him, he had a sudden flash of memory.
It was like some ancient, buried part of him awakened at a moment of heightened focus and fear, and instinct took over.
He pushed both palms forward, creating a shield of pure light that crackled with a familiar web of electric energy.
The bird-woman shrieked and pulled back, her wings flapping frantically as her claws sparked. Still acting on instinct, Crash reared back and sent his lightning-disc toward the creature’s underbelly. The disc sliced through the woman’s wings, severing them from her body.
Crash pulled the hunting knife from his belt, gripping the hilt with both hands as he brought the thick, jagged blade down through the top of the woman’s head.
Her eyes widened and then went dark.
He was about to let out another whoop of celebration until he looked up to see that the second bird-woman was headed straight for Karmen.
Forty-Three
Karmen
Karmen locked eyes with the bird-like creature swooping toward her. She wanted inside that thing’s mind, but it was locked down tight.
“Karmen, move. I’ve got this,” Crash shouted, lifting some kind of lightning disc into the air.
“Leave it,” she said. “I can do it. Help the others.”
He hesitated, but she knew what she was doing.
“Go,” she said.
Crash ran off to join Parrish and Noah on the front lines of the horde, and Karmen’s confidence wavered just a touch.
I’m insane.
But getting inside this thing’s mind was a challenge for her now, and she wanted to figure it out.
Her Beast roared and ran toward her, which was a surprise. She hadn’t given it any instructions to keep her safe, but it seemed to have a natural instinct to want to protect her. Good to know.
She told him to stand down and focused all of her energy on the winged-woman above.
Searching the woman’s mind was like searching for a keyhole. If she could just find it, she could unlock the woman’s brain and command her the same way she’d taken hold of the Beast at her side.
But where was it?
Dammit, this thing was getting too close. She needed to crack this, but she was rapidly running out of time.
“Karmen, watch out.”
“Leave me alone,” she shouted, anger bubbling up inside of her. Not that she was really angry at Crash for wanting to help, but she was angry and frustrated at her lack of skill with this woman.
She knew she could do it, and the whole group needed for her to be able to turn these super zombies over to their side, but she was failing.
As she embraced her anger, though, orange flames broke out across her arm and hands. She forced her emotions into that flame, and it flared.
Okay, new plan. If she couldn’t turn this thing’s mind, she’d light it up and see if she could get it to turn around. She needed to buy herself more time.
Raising her hand in front of her, she blew out, sending a stream of flames out in front of her like a flame-thrower. The flame widened as she poured her anger and determination into it, and the bird-woman flapped her wings harder, flying backward away from the flames.
“Yes,” Karmen shouted, laughing as the woman flew higher and then circled back around.
This time, Karmen kept contact with her flames as she focused on the woman’s mind, searching again for the keyhole.
“Cutting it close there, Barbie,” Crash said.
“I told you never to call me that again,” she said, letting her annoyance at the nickname fuel her rage.
She locked eyes with the flying woman, forcing herself into the thing’s mind. She didn’t need a keyhole. She needed a crowbar.
But the moment she connected with the woman’s thoughts, it wasn’t the Dark One she heard in her head.
It was Lily.
Forty-Four
The Witch
The fifth was on the move again. The witch tracked his energy signature to about six blocks away when he’d suddenly stopped. She’d sensed a larger output from him for a few minutes, but then he’d started moving faster than ever.
He can sense the others fighting.
This wouldn’t do.
She’d put all of this time and work into getting him to Central Park and into her trap, where he wouldn’t be able to leap across rooftops anymore.
She couldn’t have him heading
