Nausea hit me with such force I nearly doubled over. “Come with me, Cole. Please!”
“Go back to the club!” he shouted at me—and sprinted toward the monsters.
* * *
There was no time to process the surreal fact that Cole did, indeed, see the monsters, that this wasn’t a hallucination, that my dad had always been right, that monsters had eaten him and my mom. That would come later, and I suspected I would scream and cry and rage.
Right now, I had to fight, had to put the skills my dad had given me to use. I couldn’t allow Cole to face the monsters alone, whether I had a weapon or not.
Breathe…in…out…as if I were part of a movie and someone controlled the stage, the world slowed around me. I watched as Cole ran and his—oh, sweet heaven. Cole multiplied. One Cole became two Coles.
The passage I’d read from that journal suddenly boomed inside my mind. We are spirit beings, those spirits our source of power, and we have a soul…our logic and emotions, and we live in a body.
No way. Surely not…but what other explanation was there? Cole’s spirit had just left his body.
There were now two versions of him, and both wore the same clothes. Cole One—his body, most likely—appeared solid while some sort of mist shimmered around Cole Two. His spirit, I would bet.
His spirit.
It was almost too much to take in. His body stood completely still while his spirit continued to surge ahead. I watched as he extended his crossbow and launched an arrow. Midair, the arrowhead grew sharp little arms and those arms sliced one of the creatures across the throat.
There was no ensuing spray of blood, but there was definitely an open wound. The creature’s entire body shook, then he just sort of stopped, his head detaching from his body and both toppling to the ground. And yet, still the monster’s body moved. Still his eyes blinked and his teeth snapped in Cole’s direction.
Even in two pieces, he lived.
How was that possible?
Cole launched another arrow, hit another creature, seconds later meeting the two left standing with his fists. He punched and ducked, spun, went low, reaching for another weapon stashed in his boot. A blade.
A moan sounded from behind me. I whirled. Three more monsters had decided to join our Dance Party Massacre. Two males, one female. I knew their sexes only because the boys wore tuxes and the girl wore a lacy pink gown that belled at the waist. Though they weren’t my stalker bride and groom, they projected the same hungry menace.
My panic grew wings and flew throughout my entire body. These things had killed my parents. These things had killed my grandfather. I couldn’t let them attack Cole while he was busy with the others. He’d lose.
Rage simmered inside me and burned through the panic. These things killed my parents. They killed my grandfather. They wanted to kill Cole.
These things had to die.
Another deep breath, and I, too, launched forward. I had a straight shot, parked cars lined up at both sides, creating a clear path for me. Black oozed from each pitted face watching me, and up close, I saw that their eyes were also black, glazed and shiny with feral yearning. And though one was hunched over and hobbling on what looked to be broken ankles and the other was actually missing a foot, they moved with surprising speed.
Like Cole, I threw punches the moment I reached them—but my fists went through their bodies. I felt only air. Well, air and a wave of revulsion that fizzed in my veins.
The creatures reached for me, too, and they, too, missed, but again that wave of revulsion turned my blood into corrosive acid. I stumbled backward, smacked into a car. The monsters kept me in their sights and closed in on me.
The rage expounded in a starburst of energy, propelling me forward. I’d make contact this time. Nothing would stop me.
And you know what? I was right. I punched and I made contact. The waves of revulsion were replaced by frigid cold. I’d never been this cold in my entire life. Tremor after tremor shook me as the creatures grabbed for me, trying to latch on to my arms, scratching me. I spun out of the way, my muscles stiff, as if I’d never before used them—and that’s when I saw myself leaning against a car.
But I was here, fighting. Wasn’t I? Or…was I like Cole? Was my spirit now, somehow, operating outside my body? But how could that be? Can’t process this, either…
The confusion cost me dearly. Fingers tangled in my hair and jerked me to the ground.
My dad’s advice played through my mind. If you fall, go down swinging.
Yes! I’d trained for this. I could do this. I arched my back, giving my arm more room to fly backward. My palm slammed into the creature’s nose, sending him propelling backward. I lost several strands of hair, but I was freed.
I straightened, twisted, and kicked out my leg, nailing another creature—the female—in the stomach and sending her propelling backward, too. She ghosted through a car, only to stand on the other side and shake off her disorientation. Her gaze locked on me, and I knew she planned to come back for more.
She’d have to wait her turn. The one I’d sent to the ground had turned over, was sitting up and reaching for me. My teeth chattered as I kicked his arm, then his jaw, and though he twisted with the momentum, he remained focused on me.
How was I supposed to disable these things for good? And where was the third one?
Never lose sight of your enemy. You’ll regret it. My dad had also told me that.
As with everything else, he’d been right.
From behind, trunklike arms wrapped around my torso. I felt a humid puff of breath against my neck. Crap! I slammed my head back, hitting the creature with as much force as possible. His grip loosened, even as my brain protested the action with a sharp lance of pain. Spinning, I doubled tapped him in the jaw with so much power, I think I severed his spinal cord.
As he fell, teeth flew out of his mouth like pieces of candy. But when he landed, he, too, seemed unaffected by the damage. He stood, his head remaining at an odd angle—but still he moved toward me.
In the back of my mind, I knew something just as odd was happening beyond our little fight club circle, but I couldn’t yet reason out what it was. Something to consider later, I supposed. If I survived.
I had to survive.
My three opponents converged.
I punched one, then another, while kicking the third. All three extended their arms toward me, and I darted out of the way, still punching, still kicking. The more we fought, the harder my heart pounded, and the more excited they seemed to become. The more excited they grew, the faster they moved.