Page 53 of When the Living Fall

Oh shit.

Before I can shout out my frustration, Griffin twists midair, landing with the man beneath him to cushion his fall on the ground below.

The seconds tick by while I watch until I breathe out a sigh of relief when Griffin rolls off and pushes himself up in one fluid motion. With his hand pressed against the injury on his side, he runs off to fight someone else, leaving Richard alone on the roof, seemingly forgotten.

Richard remains safe, albeit bruised and bleeding.Despite everything, he’s alive. Fury and curiosity war within me, but curiosity wins out.

Shuffling back until my toes touch the back edge of the roof, I sprint across the crumbling shingles and launch myself over the gap, landing on the adjacent roof with a crunch that sends shingles scattering. I repeat this two more times until I’m standing a mere few feet from Richard, who looks like death itself. Well, even worse than that. He looks like shit. He’s clutching his side where I can see a hasty bandage wrapped around a gunshot wound.

“Did Griffin patch you up?” I don’t bother masking my contempt.

He nods, swallowing hard. His face is ashen, shoulders slumped, every ounce of the fierce leader he pretended to be now stripped from him.

“Thought so. Now tell me, why did he save you? Why is he protecting you when you did nothing but treat us like shit?” I demand, advancing on him.

Richard doesn’t flinch. I’ll give him that much. His gaze is hollow, resigned, and his shoulders sag. His voice is a rasp when he responds. “Because he didn’t want to become the monster that I am.”

“Those his words?”

“Exactly.”

A grin spreads across my face, and I let out a laugh. There it is. My boy Griffin is tired of being seen as the villain. As the monster he isn’t. When the real monster has always been me. Looks can be real deceiving, and most of the people I’ve killed have died before realizing that. “Yeah, sounds about right. Griffin’s never been a monster. He’ll never become one, either, no matter what you made him out to be with your assumptions. But as for me…” I let my grin twist into something darker. “I’m afraid it’s already too late.”

Richard’s face pales, and he takes a shaky step back. “What do you mean?”

I take a step closer, letting the words linger. “I mean, I’d love nothing more than to shove you off this building. It’s a fun thing to do. A new hobby I recently developed, as about ten minutes ago.”

Richard takes a step back, glancing toward the edge, and I cackle, turning my gaze to the flames creeping up the walls below us.

“Lucky for you, I’m also less of an asshole than you are. Right now, at least. Come on. Let’s get you out of here.” I motion to the next building to jump to, though I don’t know if he’ll be able to make it in his condition. “We don’t have much longer before the buildings all completely collapse. In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a bit of a fire. I think someone got carried away roasting marshmallows.”

Before he can respond, my gaze drops the something glinting in the firelight—a knife protruding from Richard’s chest. My head tilts to the side. Hey, how did that get there?

Then I watch the red blood pool across his dirty pale blue shirt before he’s pushed away and disappears over the edge of the roof.

My first thought is annoyance. I had a chance to do that, and I blew it. I look up to see who took that golden opportunity from me and see the largest grin I’d ever seen.

“Hello, little brother.” Nathan stands before me, grinning like the devil himself.

“You stole my kill.” The words come out low and seething. I don’t know what I’m more pissed at, him stealing my kill, or him having the audacity to be related to me. “Not cool.”

He shrugs and spins the knife handle around his finger. “You were going to save him, but you wanted to kill him?”

“I’m a complicated guy,” I snap. “You have yourself to thank for that.”

“Remind me to pat myself on the back later.” Nathan extends a hand, as though we’re only brothers roughhousing in the yard again. Only this time, his hand is stained with blood. What a pity none of it is his. “What do you say we rule this town together?”

Raising an eyebrow, I hold out my hand, palm up, in a small arc to indicate the surrounding fires. “In case you missed the memo, there won’t be a town left a few minutes from now.”

He shrugs, his eyes glinting with madness. Holy shit, I hope I don’t look like that. I picture myself as more of a handsome, playful fellow with a murderous tendency. But him…he looks straight mad.

“Nonsense. We don’t need these buildings. People are the real colony, and there are still plenty left.” He turns in a circle, spreading his arms wide and taking in the view before bellowing to the wounded and hiding souls still scrambling around below. “I am Nathan, your new leader. Pledge your loyalty, and I’ll let you live!” As if on cue, something else explodes nearby. It’s a smaller explosion, but what perfect timing that turned out to be. He looks over his shoulder and smirks at me. “You first, little brother.”

My voice is flat. “Yeah, not gonna happen.”

“Your call.” He shrugs. His voice is cold when he speaks, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Bet your girl will have a different answer. Or did you forget? She was mine first. A little spitfire, that one.”

A red haze fills my vision, and it has nothing to do with the fires in the buildings or the blood spilled everywhere. Debbie is in my hand before I realize I’ve even moved, and I lunge at him. “Talk about her like that again, and it’ll be the last thing you ever say.”

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