Chapter 13Hell

Chapter 13

Hell

Consciousness slammed into me like a freight train, my head pounding in rhythm with the throbbing pain of my pinky finger—snapped at an ugly angle. I blinked against the harsh reality of cold metal pressed to my cheek, the bumper of a car I'd collided with after Jessa sent me tumbling over the bridge's edge.

"Fucking bitch," I muttered to the darkness, the memory of her shove igniting a flare of anger within me. My body screamed in protest as I forced myself upright, each movement threatened to pull me back down. But surrender wasn't in my nature.

Dragging my injured foot, I limped forward, fueled by sheer willpower. It was only slightly sprained, but everyone knew sprains could take weeks to fully heal.

The shadows on the lower level of the bridge twisted and writhed, forming sinister shapes that could be either figment or foe—it was hard to tell until they were upon you.

The first of them lurched from the gloom, its guttural moan sending dread rushing over me. I cursed under my breath, left hand fumbling for my hunting knife. The blade felt awkward, unbalanced in my non-dominant grip, but desperation lent me a savage grace. One by one, they came at me, and I met them with steel and fury.

Did anyone see Jessa push me? I thought to myself as I drove my knife through a mushy throat. Did anyone else know it was her?

"Come on then, you bastards!" I spat through gritted teeth, the words more snarl than speech. The darkness hid the worst of the carnage, but blood coated my hand, slick and warm.

A small horde was on me before I could take another step, a dozen groaning heaps of rot and malice. I threw myself into the nearest truck I could find, slamming the door behind me. The glass squealed as I rolled down the window just enough—a crack in my fortress—and snatched an arrow from my quiver.

"Come get it," I hissed, jamming the makeshift weapon into the first pair of decayed eyes that met mine. One after another, they fell, but the crossbow, my beautiful, deadly pink salvation, lay forgotten somewhere above. "Fuck you, Jessa," I muttered, imagining her sneer as I stabbed blindly into the dark.

Luckily, zombies were stupid as fuck. They pretty much fell in a neat line as they scrambled to get to me. I just had to wait for the next one to claw at the window, letting my scent seep from the inside of the truck, calling them to me.

When the last zombie fell with a sickening thud, I slumped against the seat, chest heaving. The stench of death clung to my nostrils, but I couldn't afford to gag. Not now. Not when I had to keep moving. If I threw up I'd have to remove the mask, and that was not possible. The fog down here was thin, but it wasn't gone.

I kicked open the truck door, stumbling into the eerie stillness. My ankle screamed in protest, but I gritted my teeth and pushed on. The others were waiting for me.

Limping through the shadows, I tried not to think about Jessa's betrayal to hard. Tried not to picture her smug face as she watched me fall. But inside, I fucking raged. It was bad enough what she did to Alex, but this? This was straight up murder. Or…so she thought.

The city loomed ahead, a crumbling wasteland of shattered glass and abandoned cars. I was halfway across the bridge now. Somewhere in that mess was the USS Pampanito, and the survivors that were waiting to be rescued.

Each step sent a fresh jolt of agony through my ankle, but I couldn't afford to slow down. Not with the fog still lingering, threatening to seep into my lungs with every breath. The mask was my only protection, a flimsy barrier between life and a fate worse than death.

A half an hour of fighting through ankle pain later, a low growl froze me in my tracks. I spun around, knife at the ready, as a pair of gleaming eyes emerged from the darkness. Another growl joined the first, then another.

My blood ran icy cold.

Wolves.

It had to be wolves. Or dogs. Or mountain lions. Their eyes reflected the sunlight bouncing off of tail lights. They were following me from close by, herding me.

I backed away slowly, scanning for an escape route. But they stopped. I could just barely make out the vague dark shapes of their large bodies through the shadows they crouched in. They were just sitting there, their lean bodies coiled with hunger and desperation.

But why had they stopped?

Were they playing with me?

My breath came ragged, heart hammering against ribs that felt too tight. Sunlight washed over me as I stepped out from under the bridge and onto the off-ramp where the lanes all converged.

I rounded a corner and slumped against a cold, unforgiving wall, I watched, waited, every nerve on edge for the shapes that I knew were still stalking the darkness.

Then, chaos erupted. It wasn't just my group—it was them and a frenzied horde. They were running and fighting, hopping over car hoods, shooting and stabbing and ushering Caleb and Ethan in front of them. I counted heads as I approached, but I didn't see Jessa anywhere.

I surged to my feet, ignoring the fire in my ankle, the throbbing in my finger. Alex was in the front, locked in combat with not one but two fleshy zombies at once, unaware of the gnashing death about to take him from behind.

"Alex!" My voice tore from my throat, hoarse and frantic. With no time to think, I ripped out a knife with my injured hand and launched it through the air. It sang a deadly arc, skimming past his ear, and buried itself deep in the zombie's skull. Alex spun, eyes wide with shock.

Then, the look of gut-wrenching relief that shone in his eyes nearly brought me to my fucking knees. I couldn't see his face, but I could see the tears in those icy blues even from here.

As silence settled like dust, my group, my family, all turned to me, stunned. I barely had time to register their faces before I was swallowed by embraces.

Alex's arms were iron bands, his words a desperate litany against my skin. "Holy shit! Holy shit, baby, you're alive…"

Dante and Wyatt joined in, their touches grounding, fierce. Wyatt cursed and Dante whooped, their arms and chests crushing me between them. "I fucking told you!" Dante shoutted.

Ret shoved through them and threw her arms around my neck. I clutched at her, unable to catch a breath. Her hands were trembling as she clutched at my ponytail, running her fingers through the bloodied mess. "Don't you fucking dare do that again," she sobbed, her fear, relief and pain echoing my own. "I can't…"

"I know, I know," I whispered back, shushing her. I squeezed her hard as the guys circled around us. Over her shoulder, I met the eyes of Scottie, realizing he was on his knees with his hands in his hair, laughing.

"Fuck yes!" Missy shouted, and when Ret let me go, she and Nina practically tackled me. They were crying and laughing and cursing Jessa's name to the fucking heavens.

Anubis was jumping around us, little happy whines falling from his doggy mouth. I bent down and hugged him, promising that when we could get these masks off, I would shower him in kisses.

Jessa was gone.

So they knew. They fucking knew it was her who sent me over the edge. The fact that she was currently nowhere to be found told me something crazy must have happened while I was knocked out.

But we had bigger problems. Furry, snarling and growling problems, and it was only a matter of time until they emerged from the darkness and began hunting their prey.