Page 121 of Death Valley

“He wasn’t inside,” Aubrey breathes, disbelief evident in her voice. “He saw the trap.”

Or he escaped.

But there’s no time to process the failure of our plan. Adam launches himself toward us with that unnatural speed, covering the distance between us in seconds. I shove Aubrey aside and pivot, narrowly avoiding his first attack as clawed hands rake the air where I’d been standing.

“Run!” I shout, bringing my rifle to bear.

Aubrey rolls to her feet with impressive agility, gun already tracking Adam’s movement as he circles back for another attack. Her first shot cracks through the night, catching him in the shoulder. The impact spins him but doesn’t slow him.

“We need fire!” I yell.

Adam’s lips pull back in a grotesque parody of a smile, revealing teeth too sharp to be human. Unlike the mindless snarls of the other hungry ones, there’s terrible intelligence behind his eyes. He circles us predatorily, keeping the burning cabin at our back, using it as a shield against any attempt to drive him into the flames.

“Lainey fought you for three years,” Aubrey says, her voice steady despite the terror I know she must be feeling. “We can finish what she started.”

Adam’s face contorts at the mention of Lainey’s name, a guttural growl emanating from deep in his chest. His features twist with something that might almost be grief if it weren’t so perverted by the hunger. He tilts his head in that unnatural way I’ve come to associate with the hungry ones, studying Aubrey with predatory focus.

“You abused her,” I growl, the rage I’ve been suppressing finally finding voice. “Controlled her. Turned her into something monstrous. And now you’ll burn like the rest of them. I pray only she knows true peace.”

I fire a shot at his kneecaps, hoping to slow him down, to buy us time to think. The bullet blasts his knee open, blood and bone flying, staggering him momentarily. Aubrey takes the opportunity to put more distance between us, circling toward a fallen tree that offers some cover.

Adam’s head snaps up, nostrils flaring as he scents the air. His gaze fixes on Aubrey with hungry intensity. The McAlister blood—he can smell it in her.

“We are ending this,” she says coldly, her gun aimed at his head.

Adam’s response is another snarl as he gathers himself to attack again. I edge toward a fallen branch—a potential improvised weapon if I can get it into the flames.

He sees my intention, those icy eyes tracking my movement. He lunges again, this time toward Aubrey—perhaps recognizing her as the greater threat with her firearm training, or simply driven by his obsession with the McAlister blood she carries.

Aubrey fires, getting him in the eye. The impact staggers Adam, black fluid spraying from what’s left of his eyeball, but he keeps coming. She dodges at the last second, rolling across the snow with practiced precision.

I seize the opportunity, grabbing the branch and charging toward the burning cabin. If I can get it ignited, we’ll have a chance—a flaming weapon that can do permanent damage to the monster before us.

Adam recovers faster than I anticipated, whirling to intercept me before I can reach the flames. His clawed hand catches my jacket, yanking me off my feet with inhuman strength. I crash to the ground, air driven from my lungs by the impact, the branch spinning from my grasp.

“Jensen!” Aubrey shouts, already moving to help.

Adam looms over me, those unnatural blue eyes gleaming with hunger and triumph. His weight crashes down on my chest, pinning me to the snow. I struggle, fighting for leverage, for breath, for any advantage against his supernatural strength. His hands close around my throat, claws digging into my skin, drawing blood that steams in the frigid air.

The world begins to dim around the edges as oxygen deprivation sets in. Through narrowing vision, I see Aubrey charging toward us, her face a mask of desperate determination. She doesn‘t shoot—too risky with me pinned beneath Adam—but instead leaps onto his back, wrapping an arm around his throat in a practiced chokehold.

Adam roars, releasing me to deal with this new threat. He throws himself backward, attempting to crush Aubrey between his body and the ground. She anticipates the move, disengagingat the last second to roll clear, drawing her knife as she comes up in a fighting stance.

I suck in desperate breaths, scrambling to my feet as Adam turns his attention to Aubrey. She darts forward, blade flashing in the firelight, catching him across the forearm as he raises it to defend himself. The wound barely slows him, just a minor inconvenience.

“The knife,” I rasp, my voice rough from near-strangulation. “Heat it in the fire!”

Understanding dawns in her eyes. She feints toward Adam, drawing him into a lunge before pivoting away, using his momentum against him. The move carries her toward the burning cabin, close enough to thrust the blade into the flames for a critical moment.

When she pulls it back, the metal glows red-hot—a weapon that might do lasting damage to the hungry one before us. Adam recognizes the threat, hesitating for the first time, actually backing away as she advances with the heated blade.

“Not so confident now, are you?” she taunts, the glowing knife held before her like a talisman.

I circle behind him, grabbing my fallen rifle, looking for any opening. Adam’s attention is fixed on Aubrey and the burning knife. It’s quickly losing heat, but it’s the first thing that’s provoked genuine fear in him since we encountered him.

Adam snarls, rage overcoming caution. He lunges at her, a desperate, all-or-nothing attack. Aubrey sidesteps, slashing with the heated blade as he passes. The knife catches him across the face, and for the first time, his flesh doesn’t immediately begin to heal. The wound smolders, black fluid hissing where the hot metal cauterized as it cut his cheek.

A shriek of pain tears from Adam’s throat—a sound more animal than human. He stumbles, clutching at the wound thatrefuses to close, his features contorted with shock as much as agony.

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