Page 69 of Girl, Reborn

Somewhere out there, Seth Baxter was stillbreathing free air.

And Ella aimed to fix that, pronto.

The man was here. Close enough to fog amirror if the slimy little cockroach still breathed. This was his sanctumsanctorum, the black altar where he worshipped the gods of his own derangement.No way would he abandon it, not while there was still dirty work to be done.

‘Stay with him. Get him stable, callmedics.’

Luca opened his mouth, but Ella wasalready stumbling for the door.

‘Good luck,’ he said. ‘Find him.’

‘Trust me.’

Time to end this.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

The dead earth of Starlit Meadow Farmstretched out before Ella like a graveyard in the moonlight. She pounded acrossthe dirt in search of her man, because somewhere out here, Seth Baxter washiding, waiting.

She scanned the gloom. The farmhouseslumped on one side, its boards ragged as broken teeth. The silo housing thewatery death machine hulked on the other. Between the two, the barn listed likea punch-drunk prizefighter, barely on its feet.

But Ella's sights had set on the shadowsbeyond the derelict structure.

The black maw of woods.

There, in that thick twisted undergrowth.That’s where a rabid animal would run.

She was moving before the thought hadfinished crystalizing. She hoisted her Glock, shook off the drips of waterstill clinging to it and chased the darkness. Seth was close – so close shecould practically smell that acrid reek of sweat and stale adrenaline.

Ella passed the farmhouse, aimed for thewoods – but suddenly a shadow detached from the gloom. Fluid, fast. Man-sizedand man-shaped. Ella caught a glint of moonlight on metal.

And then it was too late.

Ella pivoted and tried to throw herselfclear, but she was a half-second too slow. Something caught her in the shoulderwith a sickening crack and white-hot agony screamed from her arm to her wrist.Her vision strobed red and black as she hit the dusty ground in a gracelesssprawl. She scrambled up with a mouthful of copper, but her shadowy attackerwas on top of her.

Ella had only a split second to registerthe man behind the monster.

The gaunt cheeks, the fever-bright eyesrolling like marbles in a can.

Seth Baxter in the wild-eyed flesh.

‘Bitch! You ruined everything!’

Then Seth’s weapon – a hammer – fell likethe fist of an angry god. It cracked across her jaw, whited out the world in anova blast of pain. Ella crashed back and her skull bounced off the ground,extremities gone to putty.

But some cop instinct, pure as the sinthat spawned it, had her rolling. The hammer pulverized the soil where her headhad been scant seconds before, sending clods of dirt skyward. Ella kicked outand connected with something that cracked like dry kindling. She scrambled toher feet, launched a punch with her good arm that caught Baxter square in themouth.

Blood sprayed, a tooth dislodged, andBaxter stumbled backward but steadied himself on a barrel of God knows what.

Then Ella leveled her Glock.

Center mass, the largest target. Even halfdazed, she couldn't miss.

‘Drop the weapon, Baxter!’ she breathedthrough the pain. Her trigger arm was weakened and she was sure there was aconcussion swimming somewhere upstairs, but even so, she had her target locked.

Baxter cocked his head like a dog hearinga whistle. ‘You can’t stop me. I’m going to finish this.’

‘You finish nothing. Drop it.’

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