If he tried to run back, they would be finished. Too much open ground behind them. They had to run forward, toward the bowman and to the shelter of the brick walls. If he pulled Julie behind him, she couldn’t keep up. If he carried her in front of him, she would get shot. All of this flashed in his head in a torturous instant. He dropped, his back to her, grabbed her legs, shoved her on his back, and dashed forward to the ruins just as the third arrow sliced into the ground where he’d stood a moment ago. That was the only way the bulk of his body could shield her.

“Right!”

He turned right, sharp, almost falling, and sprinted. The pain ate at him from the inside, devouring his innards with burning fangs.

Another arrow whined and missed.

“Left! More left! Right! Straight!”

He shot out of the field of leaves into the shelter of a brick wall and smashed into it, unable to stop himself. The old bricks shuddered but held. He barely felt the impact. The fire inside him consumed all other pain. The silver poisoning spread as the virus that nourished his body died in record numbers. His legs shook, and he couldn’t stop the trembling. The pain was spreading too fast. The arrows had been coated with silver powder.

He grasped the arrow shaft in his chest, focused on the brilliant spike of agony inside him, and pushed, forcing his dying muscles to obey. Julie’s hand closed over his. He let go, and she pulled the arrow gently, carefully. His body fought him, trying to escape the pain. The world hovered on the edge of blackness. He snarled. The white spike vanished.

“Next,” she said, grasping the second arrow, but he was already pushing with clenched teeth. It came free, but the suffering remained.

“Derek?” She looked into his eyes.

“Powder,” he ground out.

Her face went white.

They had to move. They were too exposed here, and the shooter knew exactly where they’d fallen. He forced himself to his feet.

“Wait.” She dug in her bag.

“No time.” He pulled her up and leaned to glance around the wall. The night was empty. He moved, running quiet and fast. The silver burned its way through his veins. There was no time to expel it now. His body would either overcome it or die trying.

He ducked into the shadows, weaving his way through the maze of half-walls, aware of Julie next to him. They had to get to shelter, a higher ground, somewhere he could collapse for the few minutes he’d need to bleed himself. Somewhere hidden.