Page 89

I could have sworn Mateo had disarmed him, but he’s sporting a shotgun and a pistol now. He’s creeping between the torn, tattered tents, but a small man with cold, beady eyes darts forward from behind him.

They’re everywhere.

And they’re getting closer to the bridge.

“Up,” I demand of Jennifer, new urgency crashing in on me.

We need to get to that bridge now .

But Jennifer is lying frozen, racked with shudders.

Heather drops another Sinner three feet from us.

I purse my lips, then bend down to Jennifer. “Jennifer, move now. You’ve done a lot, I know, but you need to keep going. Get up .”

She squeezes her eyes closed, shaking her head, and I swallow hard, scanning the Sinners as they close in. They collapse, but more fill their spots. Heather backs toward the bridge, firing pistols from both hands to keep it clear.

“Fuck, what’s taking so long?” she snaps, not looking back at us. “I know you’re out of shape, but move your god-damned ass, Jasper.”

Curse it.

Jaykob had better not give me grief over this too.

Kneeling down, I reach under Jennifer’s arms to pull her up.

“Help me, Jennifer. Now,” I say more sharply, and she shifts her weight.

Awkwardly, painfully, I drag her over my shoulder.

Even more painfully, I stand, and my thigh muscles scream their protest as I turn toward the bridge. I feel all the blood rushing into my neck, my face, as I strain to carry her to the bridge.

How on earth does Jaykob do this?

The man is three parts mule .

Still, I do it, my pulse pounds in my temples, and I keep behind Heather as she clears the way. As Lucien, and Jaykob, and Dominic all clear our way.

And Beaumont runs up, waiting on the other side of the moat for me.

My loafer finally hits the bridge, and as Heather suddenly pivots, turning to shoot, I see the small, beady-eyed Sinner creep up on her other side. I can’t tell if he’s focused on her or me. A torch flares right behind him, dazzling me.

“Heather, look ou?—!”

But the man drops before I can finish the warning, and in the hazy glow, a tall, slender Sinner stands behind him.

Heather doesn’t even turn.

“The fuck are you waiting for? Get her safe!” Heather drops one pistol, then rips another out of the grip of a dead Reaper.

“Stay safe, witch,” I mutter to her, then take the bridge in long, ground-eating strides.

I crash into Beaumont on the other side, and he drags Jennifer off my shoulder.

“I’ve got her,” he assures me.

“Cole?” I ask sharply.

“Eden got him back to Deanna. She’s got a system set up.” Jennifer is stuck in my arms, and Beaumont tugs her free. “It’s okay, Jas. You got her clear.”

Finally, I let her go.

And as Beaumont turns back to Bristlebrook, there’s a thunderous, crashing roar.

It takes me a full moment to realize it’s cheering. Facing the dark of Bristlebrook, I can see it, but the sound is enough to rattle my bones.

Rifles on wood, loud, raucous, irreverent cheering from every platform. From the porch. The house.

“What is that?” I call to Beaumont, bewildered, and he throws me a grin over his shoulder.

“I think that’s for you.”

For . . .

My eyes widen, and my adrenaline crashes into my throat, hot and swift as I listen to the roar.

I did it. I saved her. I didn’t fail.

Maybe their cheers can battle the sounds of death in the nightmares that will come.

A bullet slices over my forearm, close enough to cut through the neat folds Eden made in my shirt and open a hot, pooling stream of blood along my arm, and I hiss in pain.

I stagger forward, remembering too late that being on this side of the moat isn’t enough to keep me safe. The darkness isn’t enough. With enough bullets, we can all be hit unless we fall back.

Except we can’t.

The bridge is still in place.

The Sinners can cross as well as I can.

“Jasper!”

I turn at Heather’s shout, and she runs up to the other side of the moat, unslinging the heavy pack from her shoulders.

And behind her, I see another volley of bullets take down a row of Sinners. They shy back from the bodies, hesitating to push forward.

I can still see most of them hugging the trees, illuminated by the torches.

“Now, how did you get that?” Alastair’s boot crunches over a dead Sinner’s hand as he walks in behind her, paying no mind to the death falling around him or the corpses beneath his feet. “Drop it, Deathwish.”

He’s abandoned his spot by the trees, and he’s wholly focused on her.

And that pack.

Heather pauses, and a slow smirk curls up one side of her mouth as she hefts it into her hands, swinging it roughly. Her arms are corded with the weight of it.

“I told you once, baby.” She looks over her shoulder at him. “I don’t take orders like a nice girl.”

He lunges forward, but she turns back and launches the pack over the moat.

It just barely clears the channel, clipping the barbed wire and slamming into my hands right as Alastair kicks her legs out from under her. With a brutal twist, she grabs him as she falls, taking him down with her.

Straining under the weight of the pack, I back up as they fight viciously, the two battling with a skill that makes me envious, until Heather punches Alastair in his tattooed throat, and he drops his whole weight on her. Mateo runs up to help, and he and Alastair both wrestle her back.

Across the moat, Heather looks me in the eye as they drag her away.

“Blow the fucking bridge.”