Page 89 of Death Valley

He looks dead.

Which means my bullet might not make much of a difference.

Still I aim the gun at his head, just as more figures emerge from the trees on either side. Five, six, seven of them now, forming a loose circle around us. All with those same blue eyes, those same too-sharp teeth visible when their lips pull back in hunger-driven anticipation.

We’re trapped.

And I don’t have enough bullets for them all.

“Aubrey!”

The voice cuts through my panic like a lifeline. Jensen and Cole trot out from the trees behind us, both of them riding on Harry. Jensen has his rifle in one hand, axe in the other. Cole has his pistol drawn, both men breathing hard, covered in blood, though they seem otherwise fine.

Relief floods through me, so intense it nearly brings tears to my eyes.

They’re alive. They made it.

And they have ammo.

“I only have six rounds in the mag,” I tell him.

“Then you should know that shooting them won’t do any good,” Jensen says, advancing carefully toward us, eyes on the hungry ones surrounding us.

“It worked on Red.”

“Didn’t work on Hank,” Cole says grimly, and that’s when I noticed the blood and gore on Jensen’s axe. “Bullets didn’t keep him down. Only removing his head did.”

Oh, fuck.

“I think they’re herding us,” Jensen adds. “They showed up after we took care of Hank.”

“What do you mean herding us?” I say, keeping my voice low despite the panic bubbling in my chest.

“They’re smarter than they look,” Jensen explains, finally reaching Jeopardy’s side, the two horses snorting at each other. “They’re not trying to attack.”

“Oh, well did they know that Hank didn’t get the memo?”

Jensen grimaces. “They’re driving us in a specific direction.”

“Where?” I ask, glancing nervously at the silent watchers still surrounding us.

Jensen’s expression darkens. “I think the caves,” he says. “Where I lost Lainey and Adam. They’re driving us back to their territory.”

“For what purpose?” I whisper, acutely aware of Eli’s deadweight against me, of how vulnerable we are out here in the open.

Do they have…plans for us?

Jensen’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment all the anger between us is forgotten, replaced by the simple, desperate need to survive. To protect each other from the horror surrounding us.

“I have no idea,” he says grimly. “But even if we could take them out momentarily with the bullets, all together we don’t have enough, not when we don’t know how many there are. Shooting might spur them to attack and they have the advantage right now, not us. I think we should play along. Look for an opening. And hope to god we can take it.”

I nod, understanding the unspoken truth beneath his words. These hungry ones could take us at any time. Their restraint isn’t mercy—it’s calculation. They want us alive for now, for reasons I can’t begin to fathom.

And I’m not sure which is more terrifying—the thought of being torn apart by monsters, or the thought of what they might have planned instead.

25

JENSEN

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