Page 57 of The Last Sanctuary

Damien swung the handgun and pointed into the fog, firing off several random shots. The sound thundered in her ears.

“Stop it!” She tried again to wrestle from Rex’s grip. She kicked backward at his shins and clawed at his skinny forearm with all her might. It was no use. “Leave her be! You don’t have to kill them!”

Rex gave a guttural laugh. “They’re glorified rodents. Filthy beasts. We’re doing them a favor.”

She choked on helpless anger, unable to speak.

Damien lowered his gun and peered into the murk, shining the flashlight from tree to tree, from building to building. He frowned at the sound of tiny nails scrabbling over a metal roof.

Unseen, Zephyr scurried to safety, still shrieking in anguish.

“We’ve been looking for you,” Rex said. “And to think, the others almost gave up on finding you. Dekker and Vaughn will both be thrilled.”

“Screw you! I hope you die!”

Rex only laughed. “Now, let’s get down to business,” he said in her ear, his breath hot on her cheek. “You’re the one who let the damn monkeys out, aren’t you?”

“They’re not monkeys, they’re apes, you moron,” she spat.

His fingers dug painfully into her shoulders. “Now, I like a bit of spunk, little girl. Too much and you’ll see a side of me you wish you hadn’t.”

He wanted to see her afraid. She’d rather die than give in to him. “Go to hell.”

“You’ll be sorry for that, you little?—”

An ear-splitting yowl echoed through the night. It sounded both close and directionless, like it could be ten feet away or a mile. A harsh, guttural bark answered from somewhere nearby.

Rex went rigid. In shock, his right arm dropped. The gun slipped a few inches from her temple. “What the hell was that?”

A smile spread across Raven’s face.

Damien spun, gun up, sighting nebulous shapes in the shifting fog. “Which animals did you let out?”

Her smile widened. “All of them.”

He shot Raven a horrified look. “What do you mean, all of them?”

“Just what I said.” She let the tremble creep into her voice, let the panic clawing up her throat escape. “That yowl you heard? That’s Vlad, the man-eating tiger. It’s the sound he makes right before he attacks.”

It was a lie. The grating yowl came from Electra the bobcat, not Vlad. And the dog-like bark belonged to the zebra. Neither animal would attack three full-grown adults.

But Rex and Damien didn’t know that.

Their faces drained of color. Rex’s attention strayed from Raven to the menacing fog, which hid any number of clawed, fanged, and deadly creatures who desired nothing more than to eat him alive.

“Where is it?” he cried. “Shoot, damn it, shoot!”

Damien crouched, his gaze sweeping in a slow circle. “I don’t see anything!”

Rex gestured with his gun. “Shoot anyway! Scare it off, damn it!”

This was her chance. Raven jerked her head backward. The back of her skull slammed into Rex’s chin. Simultaneously, she stomped on the top of his foot.

He grunted. His one-armed grip loosened. She jerked free.

Whirling, she shoved her hand into her pocket and seized the whittling knife. She yanked it out, fumbling to flip it open.

She didn’t think. She simply acted on instinct. Carnivores always went for the most vulnerable points of the body—the belly, the neck. So did she.