Page 95 of Hunted By Fae
There, in the corner of the stairwell, tucked beside the door to the eighth-floor apartments, is a boy. This man’s younger brother, I guess, by their resemblance, and the boy is no older than thirteen. The ghastly shade of grey that has washed out his brownish complexion and the glaze of sweat on his brow tell me that he’s drowning in the depths of infection.
I hesitate.
I should run for the stairs now, leave these two behind to their grim fates, and save my own ass.
Normally, I would.
I have no problem with leaving people behind.
I’m planning on it, in fact. Gary is in the apartment on the first floor, if he’s still where I left him, sleeping on the couch. I won’t risk the time to go find him, warn him.
But the boy…
My mouth twists that horrible human compassion that sometimes claws its way to the surface.
I turn my chin to him. “You should run. You won’t stand a chance.”
Not even with that rifle.
He knows it, too. That’s why his jaw clenches. But he only stares at me, and with that look, I get it. They can’t run.
That boy is on the verge of death.
So he will stay with him.
And he will die with him.
I spare them no more of my precious moments before I’m fleeing the eight floor—and I make it all the way down to the bottom of the stairwell when a sudden thunder rumbles the air.
Eyes wide, my hands are pressed flat against the fire door that will take me outside to the rear of the building.
I freeze, boots rooted to the concrete floor.
That rumble from above, it is not thunder.
It’s aroar.
A deep, gravelled shout of pure animalistic rage.
And I know in my bones, it is Dare.
I throw my back against the door as though I’ll see him standing there on the steps opposite me.
But that roar didn’t come from the stairwell.
Itechoeddown to me.
Must have come from the top floor.
In less than a heartbeat, he’ll chase my scent to this stairwell—and the rifle won’t hold Dare off for long.
Those boys up there are already dead.
I am not.
With a grunt, I throw my back into the push-bar.
The fire door shudders with a groan against my weight, but it shoves open enough that I can stumble out into the darkness.
