Page 138 of The Outsider

It took a lot to make me speechless, but I definitely wasn’t expecting that.

“I’ll help you get inside,” she continued. “The basement levels of the old college and the theatre are connected. I found it when I was trying to plan an escape route for Claire. But we ran out of time.”

I was pretty sure my eyebrows were as high as they could go. What the hell had happened? The last time we met, she was as fucked as the rest of them. It had to be a trap.

“You’re a liar,” I snarled.

Holly struggled restlessly in my hold.

“Please, we’re wasting time,” she pleaded, and to my surprise, I heard tears in her voice. “He’s going to kill her. Please.”

My heart sped up, but I held my ground. “You were fine with that before.”

“I wasn’t fine,” she replied, her voice breaking. “I was fucked up and desperate. But we don’t have time for this. You won’t get in without me. Please, let’s go.”

I hesitated, but she wasn’t wrong. I didn’t have many options, and as much as I hated to admit it, there was something in her tone that rang true. She sounded devastated…a side of her I hadn’t seen before, even when she thought I might kill her. She’d been all attitude and bravado then.

I didn’t know what had changed, but I also didn’t have time to find out.

“Drop all your weapons,” I ordered. “Don’t try anything. I’ll snap your arm like a twig.”

“I can’t go unarmed,” Holly answered, a note of hysteria in her voice. “What if—”

“That’s the deal. Otherwise, I kill you now and find my own way.”

She was shaking like a leaf, but she tossed the holstered gun at her hip onto the ground. Having learned my lesson with Asha, I gave her a quick pat down for hidden weapons.Nothing.

“If you give me away, you die,” I said with a heavy sigh. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 41

Claire

My assault didn’t damage Jim J; on the contrary, I’d just made him angry.

I scrambled to my feet and dashed for the direction Holly had left in. He charged after me, into the cluttered mess of wood cutouts, and I nearly tripped over one shaped like a starfish. I threw it in his path, stalling him for a few precious seconds as I fled. He was quick, however, and caught up to me.

I snatched one of the tridents lying on the floor and turned, smashing it down over his head. It instantly snapped in two; it was a wooden prop. I used the end I still held as a improvised stake, stabbing him in the gut.

Jim J doubled over briefly but then began laughing. He wrapped his fist around the impaled end of the broken prop and pulled it out, spraying blood. I dropped the prop and tried to run again, but he lunged and slammed me against the painted backdrop. The rusty anchor attached to it clattered to the floor with a loud, metallicthunk.

I shrieked, but that only inspired more cruel laughter.

“I enjoy your screams very much, my Vessel,” he murmured. “You’ll scream much more for me by the time we’re through.”

Fear was alive inside my body, but I wasn’t ready to surrender yet. I struggled in his hold, kicking and clawing at him. As he attempted to shield himself from my arms, I landed a knee in his groin.

Not even an immortal man could totally withstand that, it seemed, because he groaned and briefly released me. I twisted free and gained a few seconds of escape, but I heard him lumbering after me once more.

The loud bang of a gunshot rang out, and Jim J staggered. I glanced over my shoulder to see blood spurt out from a new wound in his chest. He toppled like a chess piece. I stumbled away from him, tripping over myself in my shock.

John stood at the back of the theatre, rifle raised. Relief surged through me at the sight of him, along with a new wave of terror as Jim J rose from the floor like a reanimated corpse, disoriented but surprisingly spry.

John shot him again. This time, Jim J managed to remain upright, and with an angry roar, he chased after me again. I changed course and ran for the edge of the stage, toward John, trying to navigate around the long table. He caught up to me, and I screamed as he pushed me hard. Midair, I tried to twist away to avoid hitting the table, but smacked the back of my head on the edge.

Agony burst inside my skull, and I cried out. Wet warmth began to saturate my hair. Jim J grabbed a handful and yanked me to my feet, and I screamed again, the pain too intense to mask. John was nowhere to be seen now, undoubtedly having hidden himself among the aisles of the deserted theatre.

To my horror, Jim J leaned in close and licked across my cheek. I squeaked in outrage and disgust, but he just laughed and held me in front of him—a human shield. He didn’t need it for himself; I was bait.

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