Page 78 of Surface Scratch
“Fucking shoot!” Henderson screamed as he scrambled to his feet.
Click. Thwump.Marcus jerked back but only for a moment, his black gaze falling on Nick, who crouched behind a table with the crossbow. Marcus growled as he ripped the bolt from his shoulder, snapping it over his knee and throwing the pieces to the ground. He lifted Andrew’s abandoned machete from the ground, pausing only briefly enough to stomp down on the door again.
“No!” Caleb gasped out as Nick raised the crossbow again. Marcus had nearly died from that damn thing once already.
Marcus’s movements were a blur to his already blotchy vision, moving impossibly fast. The metal table Nick was braced behind sailed into the concrete wall as Marcus slammed him against the wall directly behind him.
Then Nick started screaming. Worse than anything Caleb had ever heard before. Worse than when he woke up with his shattered femur in traction. Pure, unadulterated screams that made the ringing in Caleb’s ears grow even louder.
Nick dropped to the ground, still screaming, clutching his left hand. No. Not his hand. His wrist. A bloody stump spurting all over the ground.
Marcus appeared beside Caleb and snapped the wooden legs of the chair off, freeing Caleb’s legs before he yanked Caleb to his feet and broke the ties round his wrists.
“Run,” he growled. The sound of his voice was different, like two voices were coming out of him at once.
Caleb stared down, unable to feel the ground beneath him, his toes bright red and purple. He couldn’t run even if he wanted to. His left arm hung limp at his side, throbbing with pain. The screaming and moans of pain faded for a single moment as Caleb looked up into Marcus’s eyes, time standing still as he saw his own reflection in the pure blackness. The corners of those eyes were bright red with bloody tears.
Marcus had been crying.
A gunshot pierced the moment, louder than the previous blast, and Caleb braced as himself against Marcus as they hit the ground. He screamed as his arm bent awkwardly against the ground, his forehead breaking out in a cold sweat as he struggled to push himself back up and get the pressure off his dislocated shoulder.
Marcus had Henderson pinned against the back wall by his throat, wrenching a gun out of his hand as another shot fired at the ceiling. Henderson’s face made it look like he was screaming, but the only thing Caleb could hear after the second shot was a hollow ringing. He scrambled to his knees, using the remnants of the broken chair to pull himself up. A large knife lay abandoned in a small pool of his saliva and blood, already partially frozen to ground.
He needed that weapon. He didn’t know how many more of them were in the building. If they were going to get out of there, he needed to be able to hold his own and not be a liability to Marcus again.
He needed to get out of there. Alive. With Marcus.
The feeling was returning to his hands—a burning, pins and needles feeling that stretched up into his forearms. His hand was still covered in scabs from the last time he’d held a knife, so he made sure his palm was around the hilt before squeezing it.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Andrew had dragged himself out from beneath the door, his elbows pulling him forward, his face beaded with sweat and agony. The lower half of his right leg dragged loosely behind him, white bone tinged with blood sticking out through a gash in his jeans.
Andrew looked like he was screaming as he got to one knee, his arms heaving Nick’s abandoned crossbow onto his thigh. Panic rose in Caleb’s chest, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
He wouldn’t let Marcus get hit with that stupid fucking weapon again.
Caleb lunged forward, unable to hear his own screaming over his tinnitus, but he was sure he was making some sort of sound based on how badly his throat ached. He threw his weight against Andrew’s back before he had a chance to turn toward him. The bottom of the knife handle drove into his sternum as his full weight slammed into Andrew’s back, knocking the wind out of him.
He refused to let go, falling away from Andrew’s stocky frame with the bloody knife still in hand. He dragged himself backward as blood bloomed across Andrew’s back, just a small gash in his winter coat. Andrew made a strange squeaking sound that cut through the high-pitched ringing, like a dog toy that had been stepped on, and he fell forward.
“W-what… what have you done,” Andrew gasped at him. He clawed at his thighs as he rolled onto his back. “I-I can’t feel them—”
“You!” Marcus roared. He crossed the room in an instant, leaving Henderson crumpled against the wall, his face a pulpy mess of blood and bone as he wheezed, his head lolling back and forth as though he were trying to get up again.
Marcus lifted Andrew by his collar. “I was kind to you, and this is how you repay me? How you repay Caleb?”
“Marcus…” Caleb grabbed at his pant leg.
“You’re a m-monster,” Andrew gasped. “You bastards killed my sister. My cousin. My parents. All of you—”
Marcus’s hand clamped over his mouth, his fingernails disappearing into the skin around his jaw. Andrew’s eyes bulged out of his head, his hands scratching and clawing at Marcus’s forearm as a cracking sound filled the room.
Caleb used Marcus’s leg to pull himself up, the feeling in his feet returning just enough to burn. His feet felt like they had been burned and stabbed with hundreds of needles, but he pushed through the pain as he threw his arms around Marcus.
“Enough,” he whispered, pulling himself around to bury his face in Marcus’s chest. “Please. No more.”
Marcus’s body vibrated against his. His rage was almost humming through his skin. Caleb could taste the blood hanging in the air and knew it was probably fueling the beast’s rampage, but he wasn’t sure he could take any more violence. More broken bones. More death.
He just wanted to go home.
