Lynn’s tomahawk had clattered somewhere out of sight, and she had her knife in her boot but if she reached for it, the woman would grab the knife and undoubtedly kill her. That weapon needed to be gone before she could even hope to think of what to do next. Lynn elbowed her attacker in the breast.
The woman cried out and went limp just long enough for Lynn to grab the knife. She scrambled to crawl more firmly on top of the woman, sucked in a few gulps of air, then pushed up so she could straddle her hips. Before Lynn’s brain could catch up and intervene, Lynn plunged the knife down.
The woman whimpered and froze. Her eyes widened. The look of absolute terror on her attacker’s face would be another thing Lynn would remember forever.
Lynn clenched her jaw to steel her resolve and twisted the blade deep inside of the woman’s shoulder, just where it met the neck. Then she yanked the knife out.
Now the woman cried out. She thrashed, scratched, hit. She fought like any animal would when it thought it still had a chance to live.
Lynn knew that chance was gone. Even if the woman managed to fight Lynn off, every movement quickened the pace of the gushes with which the arterial spray painted the wall. She was dead; she just didn’t know it yet. Lynn fought the urge to squeeze her eyes shut. Instead, she tossed the knife away as far as she could and fought for control of the woman’s wrists. Lynn was panting now, and sweat slid down her back. Somewhere in the fight, she’d detached from her emotions. Cold determination was all that was left in her.
“S-Stop! Please!” The other woman sobbed. Her legs kicked out, but Lynn had found a good position, so her attacker couldn’t reach her. “Just… wanted… survive!”
Lynn pressed the woman’s wrists down with far more ease than only a few seconds prior.
The force and frequency of the spray lessened.
Something wet trailed down Lynn’s face—blood or tears, she didn’t know. Her chest contracted painfully. Unable to watch a moment longer, she closed her eyes.
The woman’s breathing became irregular. She inhaled with ragged shudders and exhaled almost right away.
How much longer will it take?
The resistance slowly wavered. The inhalations became fragmented, seemed to seize, then started again for two or three breaths. It was endless. Lynn opened her eyes and found the world fuzzy with moisture. She had been crying—was still crying.
The woman was watching her with pale blue eyes. She was older than Lynn by at least ten years, maybe more. An ugly scar ran along her left cheek.
“You,” Lynn accentuated the word strongly, “attacked us. Not the other way around.”
The woman swallowed. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes. She turned her head away and squeezed her eyes shut. She inhaled one more time, twice, then it stopped. This time, her breathing didn’t start up again.
Lynn sagged forward. Her arms trembled. She tried to catch her breath, but the second she inhaled, her stomach turned. Lynn felt it coming and stumbled off to vomit violently in a rush of disgust and relief. Finally, only sour slime remained in her mouth. She spit it out and wiped her hand with an arm she could barely control.
As much as she wanted to curl up into a ball and recover, she wasn’t done. With great effort, she pulled her shaky legs under her and got up. With her reclaimed tomahawk in hand, she headed back down the hallway.
Dani met her halfway down.
Despite all her lies and schemes, Lynn relaxed just a little as she laid eyes upon her. At least she wasn’t alone in this building full of enemies.
Dani inspected her. Judging by the squint that etched into Dani’s features, Lynn was showing her wear and tear. “You okay?”
Lynn nodded. She was nowhere near okay either physically or emotionally, but it was useless to dwell on that right now. “One dead.”
Dani continued to inspect her.
Lynn tried to weather it.
Eventually, Dani relented. “Good. There’s a staircase at the end of the hall. I didn’t find anyone else, but I think I heard something upstairs.” She observed Lynn. “Are you ready for more?”
Lynn nodded again, without knowing if it was true. “Let’s just get this over with.” She pushed past Dani and headed down the hallway. She was tired—so tired. Whoever remained, she just wanted to dole out justice, go to sleep, and forget.
There was only darkness up the steps. She forced her tired muscles to grip her tomahawk more tightly and walk up.
Dani followed her quietly.
From halfway up the stairs, Lynn could look through the glass panels of the railing that squared off the staircase. A narrow hallway led all down the length of the building, mirroring the one downstairs. Doors opened into a space that Lynn couldn’t see into from here. Waist-height white walls blocked her view. She went up a few more steps until she could look through long panes of glass atop the walls. As quietly as possible, she took the last step up from the stairs and stopped to slide her gaze over the mayhem beyond the glass.
From here, she could just make out the layout of the large space. The left side was piled full of junk—mostly dividers, desks, and chairs—while the right side had been cleared and made up as a living space. Three makeshift beds lay under the windows.
Dani stepped up with her. “Three beds.” She whispered the words. They were almost entirely drowned out by the sound of the rain that was more pronounced here, as they were under the roof.
Lynn nodded. Three beds, three people. One of their attackers still lurked somewhere in the building. She rounded the railing and tried the door farthest to the left. It opened easily, and she slipped inside.
Dani followed her in but stayed a few paces behind her. She lowered herself down to the ground and looked through the pile of office paraphernalia. She lay her spear on the floor and took out her knife.
Their gazes met.
Dani nodded slowly.
There hadn’t been any communication about the plan of action, but they both knew basic hunting strategies.
Lynn pushed up and rounded the pile. She let her gaze slide over the mess but still saw nothing.
“Come out and meet your death with honor.” Despite her anxiety, Lynn’s voice was mercifully steady and calm. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she felt targeted in the middle of the room. There was a good chance the third attacker was hiding somewhere else, and then she’d left herself exposed. She counted to ten. “I know you are in there. Your two companions are already dead. The wolves are dead. You gambled and lost.”
Nothing moved. Nothing made a sound. More seconds passed.
Lynn resisted the urge to look at Dani. “Don’t make me co—”
The pile moved. There was a small avalanche as a figure pushed out of a hidey-hole in the back of it.
When a desk came tumbling down and crashed in front of her, Lynn jumped back.
The figure climbed over the debris and stumbled toward the open door.
Lynn caught a glint of metal as Dani’s blade caught the light.
The figure crumpled but didn’t collapse; Dani guided the body down.
Lynn rushed over to confirm the kill.
The boy—he couldn’t be more than eleven—coughed blood. His wide eyes fastened on her in terror.
Lynn swallowed. Cold flooded her body from her crown to her toes. “Shit.”
Dani held him. She looked up in bewilderment and regret, but the knife stuck out of his chest all the way to the hilt.
There are no do-overs in life. Who had told her that? The memory refused to materialize, perhaps because she was too preoccupied with the death of a child—a death they’d caused.
Dani stroked the boy’s matted hair with a hand stained red by his parents’ blood. “I’m sorry.” She murmured the words close to his face as she rocked him gently.