“Let her go, Noah,” she said.
“Why should I?” He let the shotgun slump away from Kate. Jesse began to picture taking the shot. It was a long one, but he could do it. Squeeze off a round, gently. And with a gun like the .357, one shot was all that was needed.
“And, I wouldn’t even think of chancing that,” Noah chided. “You might just hit her. And we couldn’t have that now, could we?”
Kate must have been reading Jesse’s mind too. She suddenly elbowed Noah in the gut, ducked, and ran from him. Noah bent forward, holding his stomach. He feebly tossed the shotgun to Ryan, who raised it to his shoulder and leveled it at Kate.
Ryan took a step forward, raising the barrel, aiming it at Kate’s back. Then he tripped, and his head exploded like a rotten pumpkin, spraying blood and brains across the ceiling tiles to the accompaniment of the thunderous clap of the gun’s report.
As Ryan slumped to the dull linoleum floor, Matt leapt forward instinctively, trying to catch Ryan before he fell completely. He fought the dead man’s grip, wrestling away the shotgun.
It was Jesse’s turn.
He raised the silver barrel of the Colt .357 Magnum and fired.
And missed.
Matt cocked the shotgun as he regained his footing, aiming down the hallway at the retreating Kate.
Hand shaking, Jesse squeezed the trigger again. The gun barked and the bullet slammed into Matt’s shoulder. The violent impact caused Matt to jerk the trigger. His shot blew through the ceiling tile above him. Little flecks of compressed paper fluttered down in the shockwave. Jesse aimed to fire again. His left arm shook violently as he tried to control the heavy revolver. His fingers were already numb from the previous two massive concussions.
Noah grabbed Matt from behind and yanked him through the doorway to his right.
Kate sprinted toward Eve.
Noah stepped from the doorway, and using Matt as a shield, propped him up and raised the shotgun.
Jesse fired again.
The shot hit Matt squarely in the chest. The guy didn’t even have time to look down at his new breathing hole before Noah pushed him aside and cocked the shotgun. Jesse had intended for the round to penetrate them both. Apparently, it hadn’t.
As Matt crumpled, hands to chest, Noah took aim.
Jesse squeezed the trigger.
Noah was a split-second faster.
Hot lead shotgun pellets spat out and ripped down the hallway, bouncing, skipping. Kate’s arm snapped upward in a bloody spray. The pellets continued their destructive path down the hallway, zinging as they went.
As the .357 barked, Jesse felt a warm thud, and a strange new sensation crept up his leg, as if someone had poked him with a stick.
He ignored the injury and squeezed the trigger again.
Noise and fury.
Both his shots had missed.
He quickly glanced at his leg and then up again.
Noah turned to sprint away, Jesse fired once more. This time he saw the shot go into a pack slung sideways over Noah’s shoulder, but it did not stop him. Noah stumbled to the left against the wall.
This time Jesse didn’t plan on missing.
And he didn’t miss, because the hammer fell on an empty cylinder.
Noah skidded around the corner and out of sight.
Kate fell against the wall and sank to the smooth linoleum floor.
“Kate!” Eve shouted as she ran to her.
Ears ringing, Jesse limped forward to join her. Much of Kate’s arm was gone, as if someone had taken a large bite of meat from it. The muscle was ripped and rent open in a terrible gash. Bits of white bone showed through. Eve slammed her pack down and opened it. She pulled out a rag and pressed it against Kate’s grievous wound.
Jesse’s arms dropped as he crouched down beside her. The .357 hit the floor, banged heavily, and flopped to one side.
“She… She’s going to be okay?” he asked.
When Eve pulled the initial dressing away from Kate’s wound, the flow of blood began anew. Jesse could see exposed veins, pulsing and pumping away her lifeblood.
Through it, Kate remained calm, but her eyes were watering. “Tighter,” she instructed.
“What can I do?” Jesse asked.
“Get him,” Eve said. “Go kill that asshole.”
“I plan on it,” Jesse said as he lifted himself and turned.
Behind him, Cory was lying sprawled on the floor, clutching at his belly. His fingers were wet with blood. He bent forward and fought to rise, pressing his palms against the floor, and grimacing in pain. His newly found T-shirt stuck to him, and he was bleeding freely. Jesse pulled up the shirt to uncover Cory’s stomach.
Cory had been gut shot.
“Stay here,” Jesse said.
“No,” Cory replied, continuing to rise. “I want a piece of him.”
Jesse placed a hand on Cory’s shoulder, forcing him to stay down.
“No, I got this, my friend,” he said.
-36-
REGROUP
WITH BLOODY, SHAKING fingers, Jesse fetched the .357 and reloaded it, leaving each dull brass round marked with his own blood. He stuffed a few extras in his pocket. He glanced at Kate. Glanced at Eve. Then he glanced back at Cory again.
This was for them.
Smiling sourly, he got up and made his way down the hallway. He’d been shot, but everything else hurt so much, the pain in his leg seemed minor by comparison. Still, the torn and injured muscle forced him to limp, slowing his pace to a virtual crawl, leaving him to battle pain with every step.
Noah was alone now too. He was injured and moving at a similar pace. Blood stains on the dusty linoleum floors told Jesse so.
Following the trail, Jesse took ten steps before he was forced to rest a hand on the wall to catch his breath. Then he took ten more, following the leaking lifeblood to the stairwell, where more bloody handprints marked Noah’s passage.
From his vantage point at the top of the stairway, Jesse could see the other two men just outside through the missing windows. The one with the rifle slung over his shoulder was sitting on the edge of a concrete planter. Once Noah got to them, they would be able to protect him. It would be three on one with Jesse having to shoot left-handed.
Bad odds.
He stayed at the top of the stairs, catching his breath, watching as Noah emerged into the light of the early evening. Noah stopped and said something to the two men, and they followed his raised arm back to the hospital building. Jesse retreated around the corner, slinking into the shadows, and readying to wait in silence.
He would have to shoot them first, he knew. More killing of those he would rather not kill. More stains on his soul. But this was the only way.
The footsteps grew louder. He couldn’t tell exactly how many were coming for him, but it sounded more like two than three people.
Noah was just a damn coward, Jesse thought, shaking his head. He backed himself into the shelter of an ornate planter near the top of the landing. One of the men stepped past him, then the other. Jesse waited, hoping he’d been wrong in his count. But Noah did not arrive, nor could Jesse hear him, so he stalked the other two from behind before they could take the next staircase.
He realized with a sudden chill that he wasn’t moving fast enough. The two men climbed the next set of stairs while Jesse continued limp his way forward, falling farther and farther behind.
Reaching the top, breathing as silently as he could, he came up behind the two men. They had already spotted Eve, Kate, and Cory, and were quickly closing the gap with them.
“Get up,” one of the two men said as he approached.
“She can’t,” Eve snarled back. “Neither can he. Noah shot them.”
“Then leave them behind, Eve,” the man said. He raised the rifle and aimed it at her. “Where’s the other one?”
“Who?” Eve said.
Jesse heard soft footsteps behind him.
“Drop it,” Noah said.
Gla
ncing back over his shoulder, he saw the barrel of his old M9, which was now pointed at his head.
Noah held a deep grimace of pain on his face. He forced a smile. “Dumb, move, asshole,” he said. “Drop it.”
Jesse glanced at his friends. It was hopeless. No matter what he did, nothing ever seemed to work. His friends were being covered by the man with the rifle, and Noah had him covered with his own goddamn gun.
He was out of options.
Slowly, deliberately, he set the .357 on the floor and raised his hands in surrender. “Why don’t you just shoot me now?” he said.
“Oh, not yet, my friend. I have plans for you.”
Cory sat slouched against the wall. His head was tilted to one side. His sword was beside him, but there was no way he could pick it up and use it, especially in his weakened condition. The man with the rifle shifted closer and cocked his leg to kick the blade away.
And then Cory struck.
The sword whipped up so quickly, so rapidly, that Jesse could not track it. In less than half a second, the blade had been gripped, wielded, and shoved through the man’s throat and out his ear hole. So quickly, there was only a brief look of shock and surprise on the guy’s face.
Jesse reacted too. He lunged for the cover of the slanting shadows to his right. He dropped and skidded behind the nurse’s station, scooting across the floor on his backside.
Noah rounded the corner looking for Jesse, but this time Jesse was faster. He kicked out hard, hitting Noah in the shin. The blow wasn’t enough. Noah raised the Beretta and pointed it at Jesse’s forehead.
“Maybe I should just kill you liked you said,” Noah growled. “You’ve been a real pain in my ass.”
Jesse chuckled. The chuckle turn into a full on belly laugh as he rolled over on the floor. Squinting, he blinked tears from his eyes and glanced back up at Noah.
“I meant it,” Noah said.
Jesse continued to laugh hysterically, rolling against the wall. It hurt like hell, but he couldn’t stop himself.
He did stop when he heard the booming report of the rifle. The shock brought him back, and he glanced first at Noah then scooted so he could see down the corridor.
Eve now had the rifle the man had been carrying. The same rifle Jesse had taken from the stash. The same walnut stock. The same fat Leica scope.
The man nearest to her was coughing red. He looked almost confused as he spat out several blood-drenched teeth. A pink froth formed around his lips and dribbled onto his button-up shirt. Jesse could see that a good portion of the guy’s skull was missing. The man collapsed against the wall and slid down it, ending up in a twisted pile on the floor.
Noah raised the M9 to fire back at Eve.
Jesse kicked out again, driving his boot hard into Noah’s injured leg, sending the bastard stumbling back inside the nurse’s station.
A quick peek over his shoulder showed Jesse that Eve was struggling to work the bolt. He rolled to his feet and chased Noah into the area behind the counter.
But, by the time he got there, Noah had already crawled over the topmost counter and was standing in the hallway, half-hunched, breathing hard. He raised both Jesse’s dropped .357 and the Beretta M9, aiming them to shoot down the hallway at Eve, Cory, and Kate.
Jesse grabbed for the nearest thing to him, which turned out to be a clipboard with a pen attached to it by a metal chain.
He flung it at Noah.
Noah flinched when it hit him, firing both guns down the hallway. Then, stumbling, he turned and started limping away.
Jesse staggered back to where Eve stood with the rifle.
He checked Eve, checked Kate, checked Cory. Amazingly, no one had been hit.
“Why didn’t you shoot him?” Jesse asked.
“I tried,” she said.
“Give me,” Jesse said as he reached for the rifle.
“No,” she said.
“Now!” he commanded, startling her. He ripped the rifle from her grip and opened the bolt.
It was empty.
“Damn it,” he said and tossed the rifle against the wall. It bounced and came to a clattering halt next to the man Eve had shot. He checked the guy and the one Cory had killed, kicking them both with his boot. Then he searched them both. Neither had any extra ammunition for the rifle.
“Damn it,” he repeated.
Cory coughed, and Jesse spun to look at him. Cory was holding up his sword. “Take it,” he said. “Get him.”
Jesse twisted on his heel and snatched the sword. He clasped Cory’s shoulder and stared into his eyes for a beat. Nodding, knowing it might be the last time he saw him alive, he rose to his feet.
“Hand it over,” he said to Eve.
“What? Oh—” She opened her pack and pulled out the leather case containing the last remaining vial of the virus. She gave it to him.
“Make him suffer first,” she said.
“He will.”
Blade in hand, fighting for every aching step, he set out after Noah. The blood spattered trail led out of the hospital and onto the street where the sun had almost set and the shadows had grown long.
Raptors would be arriving soon. They always did. But Jesse didn’t care. Noah was in front of him and still alive. That was all that mattered.
Noah must have sensed he was being pursued. He stopped, back still to Jesse, holding out a gun in each hand.
“That’s far enough,” he said, spinning. He raised the guns and pointed them at Jesse. Noah’s gray hair was flattened to one side, matted down by blood that covered much of his face. His fancy maroon shirt had ripped open and come completely untucked from his drooping trousers. A blood-soaked towel wrapped his leg—one of Jesse’s towels.
Stopping, Jesse set Cory’s sword down on the asphalt beside him. There was no way he could wield the metal blade effectively with only his left hand. He reached inside his shirt and withdrew the leather case.
He took one step toward Noah.
“This is not up to you,” the man said, still pointing both guns at Jesse. “This is up to God. He has chosen me to see this through.”
Jesse nodded and kept doing so. He held the leather case out, raising his right hand in submission.
He took another step forward.
Noah stumbled backward. “I see that you have it now,” he said. “Good. And I have what is needed to activate it.”
Jesse stepped forward again.
“Close enough,” Noah said.
Sticking the leather case under his right arm, Jesse unzipped it with the well-stained fingers of his right hand and withdrew the tiny vial and the slender hypodermic needle, balancing them both with extreme care.
“Stay back,” Noah said.
Jesse ignored him and stepped forward again. He held open his hand, displaying the vial and needle to Noah.
“I can’t do this on my own.”
“What?” Noah asked in surprise. He took another stumbling step backward.
“I need your help,” Jesse said. “Sometimes, you know, we all need a little help. Do you understand that? We’re in this together.”
Noah stopped backpedaling. His back straightened. “You then?” he asked.
“Me,” Jesse said firmly. “If everything I’ve been told is correct, someone needs to be sacrificed. And that someone is going to be me.”
“You were not whom I expected,” Noah said. “And you are wrong. I’m afraid God has chosen another for this.”
“Then let Him choose again,” Jesse said. “Let’s hope He makes a better choice this time. He’s certainly been pissing me off, so, I guess I don’t much care what He thinks.”
Noah attempted to retreat. He bumped up against the fender of a rust-spotted sedan. He held up a hand as if that would keep Jesse from coming any closer.
“You are not worthy,” Noah said.
“Is anyone?” Jesse asked. He ignored Noah’s gesture to stay where he was and closed the gap between them, raising the needle and vial in offering. “You know I ca
n’t do this by myself. Not after what you did to me.” He displayed his bandaged, mangled right hand. “Looks kind of funny now, doesn’t it?”
“Wait,” Noah said. “This is not how it is supposed to go.”
“You’ve hurt my friends,” Jesse said, ignoring him. “You’ve hurt a lot of people. But you know what?”
“What?” Noah said as if he could say nothing else.
“I forgive you.”
“Forgive…me?” Noah said.
Jesse continued to hold his hand out. “I met this woman who knows you, see. Her name is Andrea.”
“Andrea?” Noah said, sucking a shallow breath. “She’s…still…alive?”
Jesse nodded. “She sends her regards.”
“No,” Noah breathed. “She can’t be. She created these things. You know that, right? This was all her doing. We only—”
“I learned something important from her. Something you might find amusing, but I don’t. Not any longer. See, I forgive you now. I’ve forgiven Eve for what she’s done to me. Had to do that twice, too. And see, Andrea was responsible for creating these things. These…miserable creatures that took my wife and daughter away from me. They took my father from me too. And do you know what? They even took that asshole Henderson. I use to hate that guy. Then they took Amy, or maybe I did. I dunno. Still, she was important to me, and she would still be alive it weren’t for these goddamn creatures. Really, I guess these things Andrea created took the world from everyone. So, yeah, I think she was responsible for all that death. All that pain.” Jesse stopped and wrapped his fingers around the needle and vial. “And do you know what? You were responsible too. Billions died because of what you did.”
“I…” Noah said. “It wasn’t me. I…” The guns drooped in his hands.
“Yes, you,” Jesse said. “But, you see, I’ve forgiven the raptors for what they’ve done. They were just doing what nature intended them to do. And… I forgive you. I forgive you just like I forgave them.” He indicated with his head toward the vial and needle. “So, here. I am ready. Let it be me.”
“Okay,” Noah said. “I guess was wrong about you.”
He set the guns down on the hood of the car to take the needle from Jesse.
Righteous Apostate: Raptor Apocalypse Book 3 Page 26