“Maybe. Or it could be a trap,” Finn said. “We need to be careful.”

“Everything could be a trap,” Dan said. That they might not survive the next f**k up was best left unsaid. “Yesterday’s plan is still on.”

The kid continued to watch his girl with a steady gaze. “Alright, the vote is in. Let’s find another place to stage it.”

Progress was slow. Daniel had a bad feeling the end was approaching, for better or for worse. More skulking between flat, squat, square brick housing, doing their best to avoid high fences and dead ends as Finn turned down site after site to set the trap.

Delaying.

Who could blame him? Who knew how his girl would react the next time Finn had to kill?

The sudden wailing cut the air. It came from close by. They all dropped low, grasping their guns. They heard another long, pain-fil ed howl. It sounded solely of loss and anger. There had been a lot of it in the weeks after the sickness first hit, when people were dropping like stones.

He locked his hand around his girl’s wrist. Finn led them forward, over a buckled wire fence and into another overgrown backyard.

“Wait here,” the kid ordered.

Ali’s chin jumped up, and she shook her head. “No. We stay together.”

Finn took a step toward her.

“We stay together,” his girl reiterated.

The kid turned to him for backup. He just shook his head, wondering what came next.

The sound, shit, it had rattled him. Had rattled al of them, but Finn was still waiting. Problem was, he understood. He couldn’t let either of them out of sight. Fuck knew what would happen next. “What she said.”

Finn bared his teeth but they went forward.

A lone man was crouched over a massacre. Or the remains of one.

Trickles of blood stained brown ran across the twin lines of concrete leading out to the road, and it was black where it had soaked into the earth. Shreds of bloody clothing lay scattered here and there. People had been torn apart every which way. There was the odd shard of white bone sticking out of drying chunks of flesh. Half a rib cage lay tossed aside. God knew how many people had been butchered. Breakfast tossed about in his belly, wanting out, but his throat had shut up shop. He could barely f**king breathe. A lot of blood and unidentifiable chunks of who knew what? There was a sick fascination to it. Even Finn seemed stunned, hovering on the edges. One of the dickheads was making the racket, identifiable by the leather biker vest he sported. A couple of choppers lay tipped over nearby, chrome shining bright in the morning sun.

The man cried so loud he hadn’t heard them coming, didn’t notice them there. Yet.

Too late, Daniel tried to grab her, hold her back. Her mouth opened. “Oh … God.”

The biker raised his head, face red from all the caterwauling. “Dead. They’re all …” With a rumble of a noise he raised the gun and pointed it at Ali. “You did this.”

Finn’s bullets hit him at the same time as Daniel’s. They minced the man’s chest, leather and blood and meat. The bastard toppled backward, his bullets flying wild over their heads. Daniel felt one trim his hair. He hadn’t even thought to duck. He had, however, made his girl do so by pushing her down.

Ali knelt on the grass beside him. His hand had wrapped around the back of her neck, her skin bleached next to where his fingers gripped. She had nearly been killed. His pulse pounded through his ears. Nothing seemed real.

“Dan.” Finn stepped closer, face calm. “Let her go. It’s okay. He’s dead.”

Daniel blinked at the kid, waited for the words to hit him from a long way away. His hand remained wrapped around her neck, fingers set. He had given her more bruises. Shit.

Dan looked up and the kid nodded.

Slowly, he pried his fingers loose. “Sorry.”

“S’okay.” His girl put a hand to her neck, rubbing tentatively. The kid pulled her to her feet, dusted her off. “It’s fine. Really. That was close.” Her gaze found the dead body, the man’s chest laid open.

“Babe …”

Ali held a hand up, tottered a couple of steps sideways. She turned, bent at the waist and lost the half a muesli bar from breakfast.

Dan’s stomach pitched in empathy. The hand remained up, and she remained over.

Impossible to tell how many bodies had been involved out of the few remains left. Finn hunkered down, inspected what had to be a part of someone’s leg, going by the thickness of the bone. “An animal did this. Or a pack of them.”

Daniel swal owed back bile, stared into the sky til the shit in his head calmed down to a dull roar. “Sure it wasn’t infected?”

The kid cocked his head, inspecting the scene, doing his job. And he was so cool about it. So matter of fact. Dan could almost sympathize with his girl’s freak-out over Finn.

“No. Not with teeth marks like this,” Finn said. Then his gaze moved to the figure behind Dan. He stood, reached for the bottle of water in his pack. “She’ll want this. We need to find a car, move on. What the hell could have done this?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Al and Daniel needed time alone. Finn knew this, understood it. Didn’t mean he had to like it. Even with things the way they were between him and Al, he didn’t want her out of his sight. It f**ked with his head just a little.

They had driven for hours, putting a good distance between them and that scene. Found a smal country town to hole up in for the night. As exhausted as they were, they needed to shore up and stock up. Finn could have slept for a month. Yawning and rubbing his eyes became second nature.