Page 52 of When the Living Fall

Now, the heat licking up through the soles of my shoes is a sharp reminder that this place won’t hold me much longer. It’s a quick way to warm the feet. I make a mental note of that for when winter comes around.

My brother is an asshole. That’s something everyone around here can agree on. He hurt me. He hurt every single person in this colony. But most importantly, he hurt Emily, and that’s a crime with a payment in blood. He shouldn’t still be standing, and he wouldn’t be if he would face me himself instead of making his cold-hearted men do all the dirty work.

Gritting my teeth, I scan for him, but he’s nowhere in sight. The whole reason I climbed up here was to find him easier, but it’s proven to be useless to see through all the flames and the smoke. The only people I can see if the scurrying of his henchmen on the ground.

I shift to the right when my feet get too warm. It’s nice and toasty, but I won’t be able to stay up here for too long. I’ll have to get down at some point. Preferably before the roof caves in.

A sudden movement catches my eye. Through the dense smoke, I spot one of Nathan’s lackeys stumbling along the edge of this same roof, oblivious to me lurking in the shadows. He stumbles when his foot slips through a shingle but avoids falling through.

He must have climbed up here in a desperate attempt to find a way down. Grinning, I creep forward and, without a second thought, shove him right over the edge. He falls with a thud onto the asphalt below. I stare down at him and wait, but nothing. Not a wave, not even a thanks. I helped him find a quick way down and he’s so ungrateful. Manners must have died when the dead rose.

Giving up on getting any appreciation from this guy, my attention shifts back to the rooftops, and that’s when I see Griffin emerging on top of a building just across the alley. It appears as though playing on rooftops while the town burns is the popular thing to do. Everyone’s doing it.

Sweet. I’m finally one of the cool kids.

“Well, well, well,” I say to myself, because I killed the only other person around here to talk to. Griffin dodges through the smoke and sparks like a shadow dancing in the firelight. “Looks like the party has moved to the rooftops.”

My excitement turns to jealousy when another man pops onto the roof and runs after Griffin. I realize I won’t be able to take part in the death of another one of Nathan’s men. Griffin is going to have all the fun without me. Life is so unfair sometimes.

I play with a knife between my fingers. Maybe I can throw this and hit the guy between the eyes—Nathan’s man, not Griffin, because that would be rude. Although, it would mean taking Griffin’s kill away from him, but is saving hislife ruder than accidentally stabbing him? It’s so hard to know the proper social standards nowadays. Everyone lives by different rules. Like for example, the man flattened on the asphalt below me. I’m sure if he was alive, he would scowl at me right now, really testing out how much looks could kill.

While I’m busy trying to decide which version of an asshole to be, Griffin spins around, his fist meeting the man’s face with a sickening crack that I can hear all the way over here.

Oh, how fun. Hard punches and bloody faces. A good, old-fashioned rooftop brawl.

All I did was push an unsuspecting man. I’m clearly on top of the wrong fucking building.

Glancing down at the man I pushed—helped, I mean, of course helped—off the roof, I see he’s still down there with a growing puddle of blood. What surprises me most is there’s no horde of rotters feasting on his remains. They can’t all be defeated yet. So where are they?

Before I can think too much about it, a strange sound draws my attention and I look around, perking my ears.

Music.

That’s interesting. Is my pet doing her rotter killing dance? Don’t tell me I’m missing it.

I look around through the flames and the smoke until I find the source. Off in the distance, outside the walls, William stands tall in the back of a moving pickup truck, a guitar slung low as he plays. I don’t believe it. He’s luring the rotters away from the colony. That’s brilliant. Way to go, Willie-boy.

The sound itself isn’t loud enough to drown out the battle, but it’s steady and rhythmic, and the rotters are drawn to it, leaving the colony of living flesh behind in favor of shuffling after the truck like a little parade of the undead.

Wait a minute…I don’t fucking believe it.

Not only are rotters repelled by fire, but they’re drawn to music above all else?

Since the dead rose, people believed the only thing they craved was human flesh. Now that the living has fallen, it’s plain the see what they really want is a dance party.

My lips turn up in a slight smile. William must be loving this. A musician and a hero all at once. Good for him.

I look back at Griffin, only to realize he’s not alone. He has yet another man with him, one I recognize, one who doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as my pet. Pride and jealousy morph into anger and confusion when Griffin pulls Nathan’s man away from Richard, protecting him when he should be killing him.

Didn’t that man get shot?

Well, evil doesn’t die. My brother is proof of that.

Still, why would Griffin protect him?

Curiosity keeps me planted on the roof, even when the shingles warm my feet. Now I can’t come down. I can’t stop watching. I have to know why.

Griffin and Nathan’s minion he’s fighting both stagger along the edge of the roof. The shingles crack beneath their weight, and right when the man swings his knife at Richard, Griffin grabs him and pulls him back. They stumble, and both go hurtling over the edge.

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