Chapter 12

The urge to leap over the bed and rip her throat out with my bare hands was so fierce I actually took a step forward. It took every ounce of willpower to not only restrain that urge, but to contain the answering surge of energy from the older déchet still gathering around us.

Nuri, I noticed, hadn’t moved, even though I had no doubt she was aware of both my fury and that of the ghosts.

“I’m guessing,” I said, voice low and flat, “that my fate will be the same?”

“Oh no, you’ll be free to remain here—alive, alone, and fully aware that you could have saved them and failed.” Her gaze narrowed a little. “Just as you failed to save them once before.”

Shock ran through me. She’d read me altogether too well. I clenched my fists and said, “You have no idea what went on in this place after the war—”

“And at this point,” she cut in, “I don’t care. Make your choice, Tiger.”

There was no choice, and we both knew it. But I couldn’t go down without a fight, even if it was only a war of words.

“If you could do such a thing to the young ones who haunt this place, then you are no better than those we hunt.”

“I seek to save the lives of the living.” Though her voice remained calm, the flash of darkness and fury in her eyes suggested my words had hit a nerve.

And so they should have. Murder was murder, whether we were talking about the living or the dead.

“What happens afterward?” I asked. “If I manage to survive—and bring Jonas back—what then?”

“You will help us find the children.”

“And after that?”

She frowned. “After that, you are free to go on as you always have.”

I laughed. It was a harsh and bitter sound, and both the little ones pressed closer to me, their energy both comforting and confused. Not so much about this situation or even the woman in front of us, but rather both by my anger and that of the older déchet around us. Not since the gassing of this place had any of us felt so furious, and yet so helpless.

“You will have to forgive my reaction,” I said, when I could actually speak, “but someone who would threaten the existence of so many innocent ghosts to save one living soul is not someone I’m inclined to trust.”

“It’s more than just one soul,” she snapped back. “Or have you forgotten the other thirteen missing children?”

“I haven’t forgotten anything.” Not the children, not the war, not the worthlessness of promises. After all, had not the shifters assured all those caught in—or herded back to—the bases after the war that rumors of eradication were untrue? That places would be found for us in a world broken by war?

“You have my word . . .” She caught herself, making me wonder if she’d read my thoughts, then continued, “I swear, on the heart of the earth goddess herself, that if you do your utmost to help us rescue both Jonas and those children, I will do nothing to threaten either you or those who haunt this place.”

I crossed my arms. Making such a vow was the next best thing to signing her own death warrant if she didn’t follow through. Her goddess was not benevolent when it came to such things.

Still . . .

“What happens if I don’t rescue him? What happens if we rescue some, but not all, of the children?”

“If you fail, we all fail. That much I have seen.”

“Answer the question, Nuri.”

“Nothing will happen. A vow was made, and it will be upheld.”

“By you. What of those you work with? We both know you have some sort of government connection—just as we both know standing aside while others seek to cleanse this place of us would not make you a vow breaker.”

The mediscan beeped, and I jumped. I took a slow, deep breath in an effort to calm my nerves and glanced at the screen. In my anger at Nuri and her threat, I’d forgotten to give the go-ahead for all recommended actions. It was tempting to do nothing—to deny Branna the treatment that would help save his life. Very tempting. It might also be the safest course of action and one that would undoubtedly save me future grief. But if I did and he died, then I would be no better than them. Not that I was, anyway. I might have been bred as a seductress, but killing my targets after their usefulness had ended often came hand in hand with that.

I accepted all the machine’s recommendations, then met Nuri’s gaze again. “Do you deny government links?”

“If this place is attacked, it will not be from anything we have said or done.”

An assurance that didn’t sit well, especially given she hadn’t answered the actual question. And, I judged, had no intention of doing so.

“Fine,” I snapped. “I’ll try. But you do realize that if Jonas is still alive, it’s because they have plans for him. Or because they are using him as bait.”

“I’m aware of those factors, and that is why you must leave now. They will not be expecting a response so quickly.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. “And just how do you expect me to get up there? No matter what the rumors are about vampires, they can’t fly, and neither can I.” Or, at least, not when there was any light about.

“Our ATV is parked behind the museum. Use it.” She tossed me a control disk. “Bring him back to us alive, Tiger. It’s just as important to you as to us that this happens.”

I frowned. “Meaning what?”

She waved the question away. “Go. Your ghosts will come to no harm.”

“When it comes to the ghosts, it’s probably you who should be worried, not me. They will fight you if you attempt anything untoward.”

“I won’t, not as long as you uphold your end of the deal.” She half shrugged. “And Branna has neither the skill nor the knowledge to harm them. He is fury and bluster, nothing more.”

I seriously doubted that. None of these people were what they appeared on a surface level—they all had deeper depths, and certainly deeper secrets. I hesitated a moment longer, but my innate awareness of night and day told me the sun was on the march through the afternoon sky. If I was to have any hope of pulling this rescue off, then it had to be done before dusk set in and the vampires woke.

Cat, Bear, stay here and keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn’t release Branna. Warriors, stand down. Do not attack them. With that, I spun on my heel and walked out.

And prayed like hell that by trusting Nuri, I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my long life.

•   •   •

I drove the ATV as close to the base as I dared, but made no effort to conceal its presence nor pull off the road. I simply turned it around so that we could jump straight into it and flee—presuming we actually made it out of the base alive, that is.

Besides, if there were watchers about, they’d spot the vehicle sooner rather than later. The canopy high above might be thick enough to reduce the fading daylight to mere flickers—and therefore stop any guards on the wing from spotting me—but there was no such protection here at ground level. The undergrowth was thick and crawling with shadows, neither of which was a deterrent when it came to vampires. And if they had set patrols around the perimeter of the base, they’d see past any attempt of concealment. The transport was too big—and chewed up the soil too badly—to escape detection. Which is why I was here, on the opposite side of the valley from where we’d entered last time. I was hoping against hope that Sal had forgotten about the déchet entrance into this place.

I slipped the control disk into my pocket, then reached back to grab the large rucksack and climbed out. Though I’d packed enough weapons to cater for a small army, I still couldn’t escape the fear it wasn’t going to be enough. But then, given Nuri, Jonas, and Branna—and who knows how many others—had already failed to raid this place, it was a fear that was well-founded.

I slung the rucksack over my back and scanned the nearby trees, trying to remember where exactly the path that led to the riverside entrance was. After a moment I spotted the marker rock, although the faint path that should have been evident just beyond it had long ago returned to its forest roots.

I moved into the thick undergrowth. I couldn’t hurry in case I missed one of the markers, and yet I was all too aware that time—and the night—were pressing closer.

It took twenty minutes to get to the river, and by that time I was sweating with effort and fear. I squatted at the base of a battered and fire-scarred old eucalyptus tree and scanned the clearing before me. It really hadn’t changed all that much in over a hundred years and—despite the forest’s obvious attempts to reclaim its land—the rock-strewn ground between here and the wide river remained relatively open. My gaze swept upstream toward the waterfall that masked the entrance. The river still thundered over the forty-feet drop and spray spun through the air, rainbow bright in the day’s last dance of light. I couldn’t see anything out of place and certainly couldn’t smell anything other than earth, water, and eucalyptus.

If there were watchers here, they were well concealed.

I rose and headed upstream, keeping to the shadows that were growing ever thicker along the tree line. I paused again as the old path dipped toward the waterfall, prickles of unease crawling across my skin. This place was too quiet—there wasn’t even birdsong. It was as if this part of the forest had been stripped of all life and sound. Which, considering vampires now controlled the base, was entirely possible. They had to be eating something, after all, and given the numbers I’d seen and the lack of fresh bodies and bones, they obviously weren’t dining on one another.

I scanned the shoreline as well as the ridge above, but once again couldn’t see anyone—which didn’t mean they weren’t there. I eyed the faint path that disappeared behind the water, and wondered if the unease growing ever stronger within me stemmed from the certainty that this was a trap, or merely fear of what I was about to attempt.

Not that it really mattered. It wasn’t like I could turn around and walk away.

I shifted the heavy bag to a slightly more comfortable position, then continued on. It would probably have been safer to call to darkness within and become one with the gathering night, but I really couldn’t afford to waste the energy—not when I was going to need every scrap I could muster if I was to have any hope of getting us both out of here.

I carefully made my way down to the base of the waterfall. The air grew thick with spray that shimmered like a rainbow and clung to my clothes like silvery jewels. I kept close to the ridge wall and headed under the fall. The path was slick with moisture and thick moss, evidence enough that no one had been this way for some time. And despite Jonas’s statement that shifters had blasted the secondary tunnel into the base wide-open, there was little in the way of damage to be seen here. But then, this was the déchet entrance. They’d no doubt had a completely separate entrance for human personnel.

I ran my hand along the wall, the rock cold and slimy under my fingertips, and eventually found the indentations I needed. After flicking open the false rock panel, I brushed away the cobwebs and bits of slime, then pulled the old lever down. The machinery that powered this particular door was water-driven, so there was a fair chance it was still operational. If it wasn’t, I could use the emergency exit on the top of the ridge, but that was another twenty minutes away and would erase any chance I had of getting in and out before the vamps woke.

For several minutes, there was no response; then, with a sharp pop, a gap began to appear as the otherwise solid rock wall slid open. It ground to a halt again before the door was fully opened, but a three-feet gap provided more than enough room to get through.

I dropped the rucksack close to the base of the wall and opened it up. After pulling out the last of the flares and shoving them into a smaller pack, I grabbed several modified rifles, some ammo, and a couple of pistols. Once I’d strapped on my knives, I slung the smaller pack over my shoulder and moved into the tunnel, leaving the bigger rucksack—and the bulk of the weapons—behind. I had no idea what shape Jonas was going to be in, and I couldn’t carry both him and the rucksack. Not in shadow form, anyway. Hell, I wasn’t even sure it was possible to carry him in that form. If I couldn’t, all the weapons in the world weren’t going to help. But if we did happen to make it back this far, we’d at least have a fresh supply of ammo and weapons to move on with.

As the deeper darkness of the tunnel enveloped me, I called to the shadows within and became one with the night. I rose upward, until my particles brushed the slick and slimy roofline, and then pressed on. The tunnel was long and angled steeply downward, but there was very little evidence of the desecration visible in the upper levels. Maybe there’d been no need to come down this far—or maybe there’d simply been no one left to rip apart by the time they’d gotten down here. At least it meant there were no ghosts here.

I reached a cross-section and paused, looking right and left as I tried to get my bearings. The air was still, and I had no sense of life nearby. There were no vampires here; maybe they were all concentrated on the levels above, protecting the labs and whatever else was going on up there.

After a moment, I went left. The tunnel narrowed and burrowed deeper into the earth. I knew from the few times I’d been here that the two levels below this were a mix of déchet quarters and containment cells. In some sections, the only thing that had separated us from our prisoners had been the thick, silver coated metal bars that made up each containment cell—and sometimes they’d been woefully inadequate. Though I’d never witnessed it, I’d heard tales of bear shifters bending the bars as easily as butter, then running amok through the déchet ranks, taking out a dozen or so before being gunned down by humans. Déchet warriors might have been bred to be as fast and strong as shifters, but they’d also been chemically castrated—not just physically, but mentally. Free thought wasn’t something the humans wanted—not when their creations were as deadly as the shifters they were designed to fight. As a result, most of those in these levels would have been in a sort of “holding pattern” and incapable of defending themselves. It was just another thing to hate about a war that had caused so much grief and destruction.

I did a thorough search of both lower levels, but didn’t find Jonas in either. Not that I was surprised; breaking him out was hardly going to be that easy. I sped back up the tunnel until I reached the crossroads again, then scooted through the smashed remains of what once had been the main déchet-processing terminal for this bunker. I found the stairs and moved upward, checking the next two levels and still finding nothing. There was now only one more level before I reached the labs I’d discovered. If I’d had fingers and toes in this form, they all would have been crossed in the hope that I’d find Jonas on that level rather than on the floor above, where all the vamps were.

Except they weren’t all there.

The second I moved into the next level, I sensed them. Their presence stung my particles, as did the thick sense of hunger and fury. They wanted to slash and tear and feed, but were being restrained, even in sleep.

I had to get Jonas out before that restraint broke—because it would break, if what I was sensing was any indication.

I moved on carefully, away from the vampires rather than toward them. I had no doubt they were clustered around Jonas’s cell, but I couldn’t leave the remaining sections of this level unchecked.

There was no one else here. I had no idea what this level had been used for when the base was active, but these days it seemed to be little more than a weird mix of rusting debris and more recent metal containers. Interestingly, those containers had government IDs. Someone had connections; either that, or Sal and his crew were in the pirate business as well as child experimentation.

With the remainder of the level checked, I had no choice but to move toward the vampires. The closer I got to them, the thicker the air became with their rank scent, and the more my fear grew. It was lucky I was one with the night rather than flesh, because they would have picked up the thunder of my heart from a mile away.

The first shimmers of white that indicated life appeared in the darkness; several vampires were sprawled over one another in a doorway. I rose higher, until every bit of me scraped across the cold steel of the roofline and slowly crept past them.

The corridor beyond was a sea of white. There had to be at least a score of them here. Rhea help us both if they woke up before we got out . . .

A shiver ran through me, which was always an odd sensation when in particle form. I crept along the roofline, all senses centered on the sea of death sprawled below me. About halfway down, several stirred. I paused, hoping they hadn’t sensed me. That it was just the natural stirrings of nocturnal creatures very close to waking up.

They settled down again, but it didn’t ease my tension. Night was too close and time was running out. They would wake soon. I had to be out of here before that happened.

The end of the corridor came into sight. The door that barred my way was heavy steel that bore blast marks. That it was still usable, let alone able to contain a shifter while stopping the vampires from getting in, was a testament to how strong they’d once made these things. I paused and scanned the frame that held it. There wasn’t enough of a gap between it and the door for even particles to get through at either the sides or the top of the door, but there was a good inch gap at the base. It would do.

I’d barely squeezed inside when the awareness of danger hit. I jagged sideways, and the thick metal bar that would have cut through the middle of my particles and done Rhea only knows what damage merely skimmed my side. But such was the force behind the blow that it sent me spinning away.

Another blow came at me. I cursed mentally and surged upward, out of reach, even as I called to my flesh form. As the second blow sailed underneath me, I regained form and dropped to the ground, hitting hard but feetfirst.

The third blow I caught and held, though the force of it shuddered up my arm and hurt like hell.

“If you want to get out of this place alive,” I said, voice little more than a harsh whisper, “you’d better stop trying to kill me.”

His shock was so fierce it hit almost as strongly as a physical blow. I really had no idea why I could sense this shifter’s emotions so clearly—especially when I wasn’t actively trying to read him—but I wished it would stop. Especially now, when the distinct lack of emotion in his expression belied the strength of that emotive swirl.

I swung the pack from my back and squatted down. “We have about five minutes before the vampires wake—”

“I’ve only ever seen one race other than the vampires able to do what you just did,” he cut in, voice harsh. “I was right—you’re one of them. You’re a déchet.”

I glanced up quickly. The fierce shock I’d felt only seconds ago had turned to anger. Anger and utter hatred. He hadn’t moved, but every ounce of him quivered like a bow too tightly strung. One wrong move, and we would both be dead.

“But not a soldier, no matter what you think.” My voice was calm, despite the tension rising within me. Tension the vampires closest to the door would sense if they were anywhere near consciousness. “And, right now, I’m your only means of getting out of here.”

He snorted, and I couldn’t help noticing his clenched fists. Even in the blackness, his knuckles glowed white, but somehow he was restraining the urge to lash out.

For now.

“Nuri would never—”

“Nuri sent me,” I cut in. “There is no one else coming, Jonas, so you have a choice—me or death.”

His expression very much suggested death might be a better option. I would have laughed if it hadn’t been so dangerous. It seemed there were some prejudices that could never be breached, no matter how much time had passed.

Which made Nuri’s comment that I had to rescue him for my own sake even more baffling.

I pushed upright, weapons in hand. “Choose, shifter.”

“And if I choose death?”

“Then you are a fool. But if that is your decision, then you can have the weapons. At least you can go down fighting.”

I offered him the shotgun and pistol. It was a dangerous ploy given the emotional turmoil and his obvious desire to kill, but there was no other option. To get out of here, I had to trust him.

And he had to trust me.

His gaze flickered to the weapons, then met mine again. After a moment, he took the shotgun, flipped it around, and pointed both barrels straight at my face.

“What if the death I choose is yours?”

The tension boiling through me sharpened abruptly, but I didn’t let any of it show physically. It might have been a very long time since I’d used any of my seductress skills, but I could still control my emotional output if I really desired—although if he could read me as well as I seemed to be reading him, it was probably a pointless exercise.

“If that is your choice, then so be it.” I shrugged. “But even if you somehow make it out of here alive, you will never find those children.”

“Says who?”

“Nuri.” I hesitated, then added, “And you might wish to know I have no more desire to be here than you have to be rescued by me. But Nuri threatened the lives of every ghost within my bunker. I cannot let my little ones die any more than you would choose to walk away from those still missing.”

For several precious moments, neither of us moved. Outside the bunker, dusk was dying, and inside the vampires were beginning to stir. We had two minutes, if that, before all hell broke loose.

“Choose, shifter. Now.”

“Then I choose life.” He lowered the shotgun. “Yours and mine.”

For now.

Once again, he might not have said those last two words, but they nevertheless hovered in the gulf between us.

“Fine,” I said, to both what had been said and what had not. I handed him a pistol, then reached back into the pack and retrieved the remaining weapons, clipping them to my belt before slinging several ammo clips over my shoulder. I shoved three flares into my leg pockets; the other two and the remaining ammo clips I gave to him.

“How do you plan to get us out of here?”

His voice was so cold it sent frost down my spine. It was stupid to care given this was the very reaction I’d been expecting if he ever confirmed I was déchet. But I did, and I couldn’t entirely blame my breeding—or rather, my innate attraction to shifters—because I’d never experienced this sort of reaction before.

I took a deep breath and called to the shadows within. As the darkness surged and began to change me, I said, “The same way I got in.”

And with that, I leapt at him. He dove away, his reaction fast, but not quite fast enough. I caught him at hip level, and the surging energy swept past me and through him, tearing us both into particles. Feeling him in and around me—separate and yet not—was a weird sensation, but I had no time to dwell on it. The vamps nearest the door were so close to waking I could feel the rise of their alertness.

I surged under the door, then rose upward, hoping to escape detection for as long as possible. But my particle form was now double its weight, and it was already taking its toll. Especially given the particles that were Jonas were a seething, constantly moving mass of fury within me.

You’ll kill us both if you don’t quit it, I thought, though I wasn’t certain if the combining of our particles allowed for that sort of communication.

He didn’t reply, but his movements eased. I made it to the roofline and crawled along. Urgency beat through every inch of me, but I couldn’t afford to hurry. Any sudden movement was likely to attract the attention of the vamps.

We were three-quarters of the way down the corridor when they finally sensed us. A scream of fury went up from those who’d been sleeping near the cell door, and, in an instant, the rest of them were awake and hunting. I gave up subtlety and surged forward, arrowing for the door out of this bottleneck. The vampires who’d been sleeping there were already on their feet, but they were searching for a threat at ground level. It was only at the last possible moment that they sensed us and leapt up. Their claws slashed at the air, and pain flared as several particles were snagged and torn away. Then we were through and fleeing fast.

They came after us, howling like banshees, no doubt to alert those in the levels above that there were invaders present. They leapt at us randomly, sometimes knocking one another over in their desperation to bring us down. The force of their movements buffeted me, and claws and teeth tore through me, sometimes causing damage, sometimes not. I ignored it and spun down the center of the stairwell, surging past the various floor exits as I headed for the processing level. There was little in the way of finesse in my movements now. I was basically free-falling, but it still had the desired effect—we’d gained distance. Not much, but maybe enough.

We finally reached the processing center. I fled through the fields of broken offices and furniture and headed for the déchet exit tunnel. The vampires were a howling wind all but snapping at our heels; they would overrun us in a matter of minutes.

We had one chance, and one chance only, to escape.

I hit the tunnel and—from Rhea only knows where—found the strength to go faster. Once again, we pulled ahead of the vampires. Light began to flicker in the distance, but it was moonlight rather than sun. It wouldn’t help us, wouldn’t stop the vampires.

The partially opened exit door came into sight. I called to our flesh forms as we neared and dropped lower; it would limit the damage of hitting the ground when we were moving so hard and fast. The darkness surged, and a heartbeat later, we were two rather than one, flesh rather than mere particles. In that form, we both tumbled through the doorway. It hurt—Rhea, how it hurt—but there was no time for the pain or weakness washing through my limbs. Acknowledging either would only get us killed.

I untangled myself from Jonas and leapt for the control lever, pushing it up fast.

There was no response.

I swore and ran to the door. Nothing seemed to be jamming its movement, and yet it wasn’t moving! In sheer frustration, I kicked the damn thing . . . and with a groan that oddly reminded me of an old man forcing himself upright, the door began to close.

But it was too slow. Too slow by half.

The vampires lunged for both me and the lumbering door. Bullets zinged past my ear and exploded into the face of the nearest vampire. Blood and gore ballooned, but it didn’t stop his momentum, and he cannoned into me before I could unclip my weapons and sent us both tumbling. I’d barely thrown his body off me when another hit; he tore at me with teeth and sharp claws, and the scent of my blood mingled with his, stinging the night air with its sweet foulness. I swore and grabbed his arms, trying to stop him from slashing me even as I bucked to get him off. As he went sailing over my head and into the wall of water, I scrambled upright and grabbed both a flare and a weapon. But before I used either, light bit through the night. Jonas had thrown his two flares into the doorway.

It might stop the vampires long enough for the door to close, but it wouldn’t stop them coming after us. There were other paths out of that place, and I had no doubt the vampires knew about them.

“This way.” I grabbed the heavy rucksack, then spun and ran up the old path, away from the water and back toward the trees. Jonas followed close on my heels, as silent as the night itself, but undoubtedly more dangerous.

Behind us, the screams changed from fury to pain, and the stink of burned flesh began to steal through the air.

“They’re throwing themselves on the flare,” Jonas said, rather unnecessarily. “We need to get out of here—fast.”

I cursed, but the reality was, I was already at top speed. Taking particle form always drained me, but carrying Jonas had made it ten times worse. I was running on empty and fading fast.

Movement to my left: A vampire surged up the bank, dripping water as he came at us. I raised the shotgun and fired almost in the same motion, but the vampire faded. The bullets hit the stony ground, and sparks flew as they ricocheted into the night. A second later he was in flesh form again and leaping for my throat. Two more shots rang out, the sound so close it hurt my ears. What remained of the vampire’s face exploded into a hundred bloody bits and covered me in goo. I ignored it, leapt over his falling body, and kept on running—into the trees, along the path, heading for the ATV and the hope of safety it offered.

Behind us, there was only darkness and death. I had no idea if the door had closed, or whether the weight of the vampires sacrificing themselves to protect those behind from the light of the flare had forced it to a halt, but it didn’t really matter. They were coming. We’d run out of time.

“Faster,” Jonas growled. “They’re on the path.”

“I’m trying!” I reached for more speed, but there really was nothing left in the tank.

Jonas cursed but remained by my side. I wasn’t sure if that was by choice or practicality. There was safety in numbers—two against a score or more certainly had more hope than one.

I spotted the final marker, and a second later we were on the road. The ATV waited ahead, a big metal beast that would at least offer some protection from the howling horde now on our tails. I swung the rucksack out of the way and grabbed the control disk from my pocket. The minute my fingers touched it, the doors began to open.

“I’ll drive.” Jonas took the disk without missing a step. “I’ve probably had more experience in this sort of situation than you.”

Of that, there was no doubt. I’d driven it up here easily enough, but our chances of getting out of here alive could only be improved with someone capable of manually driving the thing at the wheel.

I threw the rucksack into the vehicle and leapt in after it. Jonas did the same, then hit the door release—but even as they began to slide shut, a boiling mass of hate and desperation broke out of the trees and came at us.

I grabbed the flares and ignited them. The fierce light blinded me as much as the vampires and I blinked rapidly, trying to get my vision back even as I threw two flares to either side of the ATV and the final one over the back, providing an uneven circle of light around the vehicle. It wouldn’t be enough, but it would at least keep them at bay long enough for the doors to close and for Jonas to boot up the engine.

Once again, vampires threw themselves at the flares, covering the deadly light with the weight of their remains. It was an action I’d never witnessed before, and it spoke of their desperation—or at least of the desperation of those who now appeared to be in league with them.

The doors finally slipped into place and locked. At the same time, two of the flares were extinguished, and the vampires hit us—literally.

The sheer force of their onslaught was almost tornado-like; the big vehicle rocked with not only the impetus of their movements, but the weight of their blows. It might be military in design, but it was styled more like a troop carrier than an armored vehicle. It had not been designed to counter this sort of attack.

“For Rhea’s sake, get us out of here!”

“I’m trying, but these things aren’t race pods.”

The rocking grew more violent and darkness reclaimed the night as the last of the flares became buried under a sea of burning, stinking flesh. Several vampires hit the windshield, their emaciated faces filled with desperate fury as they clawed and smashed at the glass. It held up, but I had to wonder for how long.

As the ATV’s engine finally roared to life, something hit the roof so hard it actually buckled. I slid down in the seat and started loading weapons. There was another thump, then a metal strut speared into the cabin, the thick point barely missing my leg as it smashed into the center console. Hands clawed at the broken roof structure, peeling the metal back as easily as butter. I raised two guns and started firing. The sound was deafening, and metal ricocheted inside the cabin as much as outside, cutting everything in the near vicinity—the vampires, the ATV’s innards, and the two of us.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing except getting out of here.

Jonas threw the vehicle into gear, and the ATV lurched forward. The vampires crowding the front of the vehicle were crushed under its heavy treads, but neither those clawing at the windshield nor those trying to squeeze through the peeled back roofline were shaken loose. I kept firing. There was nothing else I could do.

With an ominous crack, a multitude of hairline fractures began to race across the windshield’s face, until they formed a thick web that was almost impossible to see through.

And still the vampires thumped it. A hole appeared, small at first but getting larger with each blow, until it was big enough for a fist to get through. Needle-sharp claws slashed left and right, desperately seeking a target. Steering one-handed, Jonas grabbed a gun, flicked off the safety, and began to fire. The windshield completely shattered and glass sprayed everywhere, inside and out, cutting whatever the metal shards had failed to touch.

One of my guns clicked over to empty. I threw it down and grabbed another. The second gun did the same. I grabbed the last of the loaded weapons and kept on firing.

The vampires seemed endless. They just kept coming at us as the ATV rumbled on. It was gathering speed as it bounced down the old road, but it still wasn’t moving anywhere near quickly enough. At the rate we were going, the vampires would have it—and us—in pieces before it reached full speed.

“Has this thing got lights?” I had to yell to get over the tornado of sound created by the vampires, the guns, and the engine’s clattering.

“Yes, but it’s solar-powered, and while the batteries will get us back to Central, using the lights will drain them far too quickly.”

“If we don’t use them, we won’t need to worry about getting to Central, because we won’t get out of these damn mountains alive.”

Fingers appeared along the nearest side pillar, and a second later, a vampire swung himself around like a rubber band and arrowed feetfirst into the ATV. I yelped and flung myself back, only to be stopped by the sturdy seat. He thudded into my chest, the force of the blow so great that the air left my lungs in a gigantic whoosh. I couldn’t breathe; I could barely even think. He screamed and twisted upright, his hands grasping for my neck. Despite the burning in my lungs and the lights dancing in front of my eyes, I somehow flicked my knives down into my hands and slashed them across the middle of his gaunt body. He didn’t immediately react, and, for a heartbeat, I thought the haze of pain and lack of air had caused me to miss. Then his hands slithered from my neck as the top part of his body fell one way and the bottom another.

I coughed and desperately tried to suck in air and ease the burning in my lungs. The effort caused red-hot lances of pain to shoot through the rest of me. I’d broken a rib—but right now that was the least of my problems.

More vampires came at us, from both the front of the ATV and the torn roof. I guess we were lucky in that the space was confined; only a few of them could squeeze into the holes they’d created, but that didn’t stop the rest of them from trying. The sheer weight of numbers now on the ATV had to be at least partially responsible for the slow pickup of speed. I guess we had to thank Rhea that they all were more intent on getting their share of available blood rather than actually thinking; if they’d become one with the night and filled this space with the weight of them, they might very well have suffocated us.

My guns clicked over to empty again. A second later, Jonas’s gun did the same. He cursed, threw it down, then hit a switch. Light bit into the darkness, clean and bright and deadly. The vampires in and around the vehicle became ash in an instant, and the ATV lurched ahead with a suddenness that flung me forward. I smacked a hand against the dash to stop my head from doing the same, and watched the black tide of vampires—some burning, some not—peel away from the vehicle, leaving the road clear.

We’d done it. Against all the odds, we’d actually gotten out of the bunker alive and managed to fight our way free from the vampires.

Now all we had to do was make it home.