Page 69 of Hunted in the Shadows
I didn’t think, didn't give him time to react. My body moved on instinct, closing the remaining distance between us in a fluid motion. I shot out my free hand, thrusting the gun away and twisting his wrist until I heard the snap of tendons. The weapon slipped from his grasp, landing between our feet on the ground, but I didn’t ease up.
I grabbed his jacket, swinging him into the railing with enough force to rattle the wood. His breath left him in a surprised burst. My hand plunged into his inner pockets, rooting around for the familiar weight of my silver blades and the box of ammo he'd been withholding at Rhett's command.
The young man spluttered broken pleas, all bravado evaporated in my unforgiving grasp. His wide eyes darted to my weapons. He thought I was going to kill him. I could—but pity stirred through my rage.
“Nice meeting you, too,” I said before hauling him over the railing into the water.
I hurriedly helped Gwen to her feet, pressing my knives into her hands. “Can you use those?” I asked.
“They’re perfect. I can stabbothof you at the same time when we get out,” she said, glancing up at me with a begrudging… was it gratitude? Admiration? Whatever it was flickered out as Cliff stepped onto the bridge—followed by a trio of seasoned hunters.
A silver-haired hunter in the middle kept his shotgun trained on Cliff, as did the two men flanking him. I didn't blame them. Back near the Pit, a dozen hunters were either unconscious or still tending to wounds Cliff had inflicted. Lucky for them, he was showing remarkable restraint. He could massacre them all, but then every hunter in the country would be on our asses by sunset.
“Lower your weapons,now,” the silver-haired hunter growled. “If the marshal hadn’t ordered you boys to be captured alive, you’d be dead where you stand.”
Cliff didn’t waver.
The lead hunter chuckled, revealing tobacco-stained teeth behind the untamed beard. “Son, you need to know when you’re outnumbered. If you shoot me, my boys will have that pretty face turned into Swiss cheese in seconds.” His eyes narrowed, that smile widening into something certain. “You won’t do it.”
I watched Cliff's steely profile, the way nothing budged in his expression, even though I could see him scanning his options—which weren’t plentiful. He adjusted his aim a small amount—scarcely a quarter inch upward—and squeezed the trigger.
BLAM.
The hunters facing us flinched, coiled with tension, but quickly relaxed into relieved laughter. The shot hadn’t come close. It had pierced one of the crates on the shipping dock. The advanced lock hanging off the front was smoking, its mechanism frayed. Black wings burst from the lid—there had to be at least five ahools. The bat-like monsters gave piercing cries and descended upon the nearest threats—the trio of hunters standing at the threshold to the main building. Monster and human screams bled together.
“Let’s go!” I shouted, waving to Cliff.
As he turned to follow, one of the men managed to shake off an ahool and snap its neck. The creature hadn’t even hit the ground before the hunter was lunging at Cliff.
Gwen launched herself at the man, burying one of my blades into his shoulder before he could reach Cliff. The man’s howl of pain rivaled the cries of the ahools behind him. He seized Gwen’s wrist and gave a brutal kick that connected with her knee. She screamed, staggering.
“Gwen!” Cliff shouted, catching her under the arms before she could fall.
The assailant lurched back unsteadily, the knife still protruding from his shoulder. Gwen struggled against Cliff’s grip, trying to take another swing at the hunter with the second blade.
“Forget them,” Cliff grunted. “Let’s get the hell outta here!”
“My knee’s about to give,” she gritted out. “I can’t run.”
Glancing back toward the fast-approaching assailants, Cliff slipped his arms under her legs and threw her over his shoulder, sprinting past me while Gwen loosed a stream of shocked profanities.
We cleared the walkway and dodged through the trees, using them for cover as gunfire rang out behind us. I searched the branches overhead, trying in vain to catch a glimpse of gossamer wings. My mind spun, wondering if she had the energy to make it to the car, wondering if I should be worried about birds of prey in the area.
The goddamn bridge came into view.
Fuck. The golden mist had pooled even thicker, making the fall seem even more endless than before. I forced myself to follow Cliff onto the bridge. The boards rattled like it was about to give, but the thought of our pursuers crowding onto it made me move faster.
“They’re coming!” I gasped ahead.
Voices drew nearer, but to my surprise, the rickety boards didn’t shake with the weight of the other hunters. The end was in sight. Cliff crossed the last of the boards, setting Gwen carefully on her feet while she batted his arms away with a scowl. I was five feet from solid ground when one side of the bridge gave way with a deafeningcrack.
A scream caught in my throat. I let go of the gun, lashing out both hands to grab the other side of the rail. My boots fought for purchase that couldn’t be found. Anothercrack. The bridge was giving out from beneath me—they hadn’t boarded the bridge because they were destroying the other side.
“Jon!” Ahead, Cliff threw his arm out to grab me.
Our fingertips fell short of each other’s. The boards gave way entirely and swung down. I scrabbled at the planks, trying to launch myself up to solid ground, but the wood was too slippery to catch a firm grip.
Icy pain burst around my wrist. My shoulder smarted as my fall came to an abrupt halt.
