Page 15 of When the Living Fall

“It’s not a dead end if we keep going,” I point out.

“How do you expect to do that? Don’t tell me you’re willing to jump,” William says, though his tone has more concern than doubt.

I press a hand against my heart in faux hurt. “It’s almost as though you don’t know me at all. Let me tell you, Willie-boy. Sanity’s a luxury I’ve long left behind.”

“Maybe she didn’t come this way…” Griffin’s words trail off when he looks around in desperation.

Ignoring him, I scan the ground for any sign, any little clue that might tell us where she went. If she took a turn to avoid the cliff, or if she embraced it like I want to. Though, it wouldn’t surprise me if we lost the trail somewhere in the rain-soaked mess we’d come through. The rain washed away most of the tracks, so doubling back might be nothing more than a waste of time.

“No, she did. She came this way.” William drops to a crouch, tracing his fingers over a faint paw print next to a single human footprint left behind in the damp dirt.

Wondering if my pet had the same adrenaline rush as I have right now, I nudge Griffin aside and look over theedge. It’s a long drop, but there’s nothing other than rocks and small trees growing out of the side of the cliff. Huh, I guess trees can grow anywhere. Dirt, rock, maybe even the bones of my enemies. “I don’t see her body.”

“Talk like that again and I’ll make sure it’s your body down there,” Griffin grits out next to me. Oh, touchy fella. His fingers dig into his palms, his eyes wild, frantic. I understand his agony, because I feel it, too. When I run my hand through my hair, I feel the spots where I pulled my own hair out.

It’s awful what we do to ourselves when we’re hurting. It’s also unfair to have a head of such magnificent hair only to torment it. Too bad neither of us can find a more beneficial stress tic to adopt. Like baking. I wish I could bake when I’m stressed. Well, in a way I do, if burning rotter corpses counts.

“Griff,” William gasps, his voice a rasp whisper when he points out into the distance, his hand shaking. “There.”

My eyes follow his line of sight, and I see it. Well, I see her. Illuminated in the thin ray of morning light. Standing on the open ground, a battered bag slung over her shoulder, her silhouette outline in mud-streaked exhaustion. Her figure sways, and I can sort of see Buddy in the distance, a small, blurred shape dancing with a rotter. She looks like she’s been through hell, her clothes covered with as much mud as mine are. I wonder if she ate a cricket, too.

She’s too far away for her to notice us, but seeing her standing there, alive, is…well, I don’t even know what.

Relief crashes through me, but it’s mixed with frustration, anger, and the sharp sting of what she’s done. I’m at war with wanting to scream and yell at her for abandoning me, and also wanting to touch her face and grab her ass.

Elation swirls into the numbness of my body and I let them battle it out. I want to hit something, yet I also want to hold her again. I want to play music with a piano made of dreg teeth, but I also want silence while I make a bloodbath.

“No.” The single word from Griffin is so odd, considering he dragged us through the plains of hell to find her. I figured he’d want to write her a sonnet or get down on bended knee with a rose in his mouth. His reaction is rather underwhelming.

Then his face morphs into terror and my gaze snaps back out to my pet so hard that I’m surprised I don’t break my neck. That’s when I see it. Just behind her, two rotters stagger close, stumbling with their hands outstretched, teeth bared in death’s version of a twisted smile. She doesn’t notice them, oblivious to them closing in with every step.

Numbness, my old friend, spreads through me, while panic claws at my throat, replacing every other emotion in an instant. I’m forced to watch helplessly as the rotters get closer and closer to her with each staggered step until finally, I do the only thing that I can do right now. None of us will reach her in time, no matter how quickly we move. I cup my hands around my mouth, but the warning dies on my lips halfway through when the ground beneath my feet gives way, gravel and stone crumbling as I lose my footing.

My arms pinwheel through the air while I drop, the world tilting and spinning, sky becoming earth and then sky again as I tumble down, crashing and rolling, pain exploding in my ankle. My hands claw for anything to slow my descent, fingers scraping against stone and thorn, but it’s useless.

The last thing I see before I hit the ground is her silhouette in the distance, the rotters drawing ever closer.

11

EMILY

My name echoes through the valley. At least, I think that’s what I hear.

When I whip around, scanning the large expanse of nothingness, a rotter lurches toward me, teeth bared and eyes dull with decay. I stagger back, narrowly dodging its gnashing teeth. When it turns to get me again, I raise one of Max’s knives and plunge it into the rotting skull with what’s left of my energy, dropping it into the dirt in a lifeless heap.

I have a split second to catch my breath before I see more closing in. Rotters shambling closer, their stench curling around me.

Shit.

Buddy barks from somewhere off in the distance, his yelps frantic. I can’t tell if he’s coming to help me, or if he’s dealing with his own rotter problem. I’m already outnumbered and can’t risk waiting for them to get close enough for my knives alone. Fumbling for the gun, I pull it from my holster, aim, and fire. The recoil jolts through me, almost knocking me off balance. I steady my arm, aim, and fire again, watching them drop like flies, one by one, with each pull of the trigger.

My aim is true at first, but then I miss. I blink back my weariness and aim again. Fire again. Miss again.

Damn it.

My legs are shaky, making me wobble. My arms ache, and I run my tongue over my dry, parched lips. Still, I don’t give up. That’s a promise I made to Zoey long ago after narrowly avoiding death multiple times. We promised each other that if we made it through that day, then we could survive anything this cruel world throws at us, and I won’t let her down now. Not when I’m so close.

More rotters lurch forward, an endless tide. My gun clicks, the chamber empty.

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