And then Daisy was moving, grabbing Erin’s gun, shooting at Ephraim, but the bastard had slipped through the huts and was now running along the outer ring. He appeared for only seconds between huts, firing at them as he ran for the front gate. He was going to get away.

The air around her rang with one continuous barrage of gunfire, and Mercy was beyond deafened. But she wasn’t catatonic. She hadn’t become a zombie.

Gideon started running unsteadily after Ephraim, disappearing from view through the huts. Rafe used his cane to get to his own feet, and then he was half running, half limping, following Gideon.

Mercy wasn’t sure if she should stay in place or join the other women, but then she decided to stay where she was. If she was with them, they were more of a target. So she didn’t move.

Until, through the ringing in her ears, she heard a thin scream coming from the direction Ephraim had run. Mercy didn’t stop to think, she simply ran toward the scream. Crossing the open common area, she passed Rafe at the school, ignoring his commands for her to stop, to go back. She ran faster until she’d returned to where they’d left their vehicles, then came to a dead stop, sliding in the snow a few feet as she stared in horror.

Gideon’s Suburban was parked behind Erin’s Range Rover. And behind that, parked perpendicular to Gideon’s SUV, was Karl Sokolov’s Tahoe—the one Rafe had loaned to André and Farrah.

André was on his back in the bloodstained snow, hands closed around Ephraim’s throat while Ephraim straddled his chest, delivering blow after desperate blow to André’s head with his fists. Farrah had leaped into the fray, yanking at the rifle strapped to Ephraim’s back, screaming for help as she tried to dislodge the sonofabitch. The snow was disturbed all around them, as if the two men had rolled while trying to incapacitate each other.

Ephraim was hitting much harder with his left fist. The right sleeve of his coat was dark with blood. At least Rafe got him, Mercy thought with grim satisfaction.

“Hit—” His right arm! she’d wanted to shout, but Rafe was suddenly beside her, huffing as he shoved her behind his Subaru. “Stay down, dammit,” he hissed. “What are you thinking? You want to get Farrah killed?”

God, no. Please don’t let him hurt her. Trembling, Mercy shifted so that she could see around Rafe.

Both Rafe and Gideon were trying to get a clear line of fire at Ephraim, but Farrah was in Rafe’s way and Gideon’s left hand was shaking. Gideon’s whole body was shaking, his lips pressed together in a harsh line. He was in pain, Mercy realized, and afraid of shooting Farrah by mistake.

Mercy saw the flash of metal a split second before Ephraim plunged a knife into André’s biceps. André shouted a curse, loosening his grip just enough for Ephraim to spring backward, grabbing Farrah as he struggled to his feet. Gideon got off a single shot, but Ephraim had ducked low enough that his head was behind Farrah’s.