Upon Caleb’s return, he moved to Jenna’s side. She stepped back and leaned against the window. Caleb, hatchet in hand, forced the Streaker into a corner. A noise at the window had her spinning around. A hand shot through the glass and into the room to claw at Jenna’s face.
Outside in the darkness, lifeless eyes found her.
The undead rammed against the window, spraying glass. Jenna stepped away, and seconds later, a loud crack caused splintered wood and glass to fall to the floor along with pieces of the zombie’s fingers. With a catatonic stare, the Streaker pushed through the opening, tearing its flesh against the jagged edges of the frame.
Jenna flashed back to the cigarettes and matches she saw in the room. Fire was exactly what she needed now. She searched for the matchbook that had laid on the floor, but the room was in disarray thanks to the fight.
Something bumped behind her, and panic rose inside her. Dropping to her belly, scanning the floor, her fingers reached under the bed.
She snagged the small, cardboard matchbook and hauled it out of the darkness. Gathering the discarded magazines, fingers shaking, she twisted a match from the book and lit it.
A small flame burned, and she put the edge of the magazine to it. The dried pages flared instantly.
Caleb, still battled in the corner, but Jenna had no time to help him.
A pale sea of rotted flesh and decay advanced on her. Against her own survival instinct, she let the putrid beast come close enough to hear the gnashing of its blackened teeth.
A boney hand reached for her, and she let the burning magazine ignite the rags barely covering gangrenous limbs. It pawed at her arm. The burning magazine arched toward its mouth. With desperate strength, Jenna twisted to free herself. Sizzling flesh indicated the flame worked to devour the undead’s ear.
Black lips smacked her shoulder, and Jenna wrenched free, shoving the remains of the burning magazine into the Streaker’s face.
As quick as tinder, the Streaker ignited. The creature turned in circles, unable to comprehend its own burning body. The overpowering smell of charcoaled flesh filled the room.
Jenna dropped to the floor, rolled out of the way, and joined Caleb. The room erupted in flames.
“We need to move now. Grab Quentin. I’ll get Aiko,” Jenna shouted.
With a final surge of strength, Jenna ran to Aiko. Caleb shoved the Streaker he’d been battling into the burning corpse. Both bodies tumbled to the floor, igniting the remains of the bed.
“Move.” Caleb lifted an unconscious Quentin as if he weighed nothing.
Stumbling, dragging Aiko, ash-laden fumes filling her nose, Jenna exited the bedroom, dense smoke hindered her vision.
Rancid odors from charred corpses and dense flames overwhelmed Jenna’s senses. She followed Caleb, dragging Aiko into the darkness.
Once outside, Caleb lowered Quentin to the ground, and then staggered over to Aiko. Jenna searched for a pulse in Quentin’s neck. The suffocating heat from the burning house billowed and caused her to hack.
With her touch, Quentin stirred.
“You scared me.” She ripped off her sweatshirt, pushing fabric against the worst of his still bleeding wounds.
“I had to save my bestie, right?”
“I’m sorry for everything.” Jenna forced Quentin’s hand down on the fabric. “Hold this tightly. I’ll be right back.”
Unsure if he’d passed out again, she moved away to check on the others. The sight of them made her want to weep.
Aiko had a large gash in her stomach and side. For any human, the wounds would have meant instant death.
Caleb kneeled next to the silent, injured New Racer. As Jenna bent to console him, she spotted a long, ragged gash weeping blood.
Applying pressure, her hands seeped red. “You’re injured.”
“I’ll be fine. Let me help Aiko.” Caleb shouldered Jenna aside and kept pressure on Aiko’s stomach.
“What should I do?” Jenna asked. “We have to get them back to the inn for care.”
“It was Aiko who told us where you were. She came clean about Tundra’s plan to kill you and turn against all humans. If it wasn’t for her, you’d be dead.”
“Why are you telling me this? We have to get them back to Emma.”
“You’re the only one who can help her. She’ll die if you don’t offer her some blood. Quentin’s lost too much. He can’t.” Caleb attempted to stand, staggered, and sank to a knee.
“You’re hurt, too.” Jenna stepped to his side.
God damn it. Can’t help anyone. Useless. Must give them both what they need.
“I’ll be fine,” Caleb said.
“Don’t lie to me. Are you asking me to make a choice—your life or Aiko’s? I won’t do it. I won’t let you die on me.”
“You don’t have a choice. I won’t live if it means letting Aiko die.”
“You’ll both have to do it. You both have to drink from me.”
“It could kill you.”
“I don’t care. If you both don’t do it, I refuse.” She met Caleb’s eyes. “I can’t live in this world without you.”
“You have to.”
“Not when there’s an option. You’ll both die out here if you don’t drink.”
“Only enough to survive and make it back to the inn.”
“Whatever you need. I’d rather be dead than without you.”
Jenna nestled between them, holding out a small pocketknife. She offered both wrists in sacrifice. The knife stung. It dug into her flesh. She moved her hand toward Aiko, who sensed the blood. The New Racer’s teeth latched on, digging in—the pain intense.
After a moment, she offered her other arm to Caleb. He kissed her wrist and then the pain of tearing flesh.
Jenna swayed and tried to focus on a part of her body not in pain. She noticed a mark.
Was it a bruise or a bite? Could the Streaker have bit her when she torched it?
That was her last thought before the world went black.
23
Jenna woke in her
