Then everyone was fighting. They went from shocked immobility to a madhouse melee in a fragment of a second. Rachael wasted no time. Her left hand was still free and she immediately began tearing at the knots that held her right to the crossbar. Jason was shaking his head, trying to shake off the battering he’d received; and even Claudia was beginning to twitch, roused by the shouts and screams.

Everywhere she looked Rachael saw terrible violence. It wasn’t just a fight, it was like watching rabid dogs tearing at each other. The townsfolk fought with terror, which gave them incredible speed and a desperate ferocity. The gang members fought with a vicious cruelty that was more natural brutality than skill. They were evenly armed and both groups knew they were fighting for their lives. There were no fancy moves, no tactics or strategies. This was mayhem and murder.

Rachael got her right hand free and began working on the lashing around her waist. Her T-shirt collar was torn, but not badly, and the townies hadn’t even bothered to remove her few pieces of armor. Her weapons were gone, though. Damn.

“Rachael . . . ?” called Claudia weakly. “What’s . . . what’s happening?”

As the last knot came free, Kyle came staggering toward her, his eyes wide and both hands clamped to his throat. Blood, red as madness, spurted from between his fingers. Glory, her face bruised and lacerated, caught up to him and began hacking at him, stabbing him in the shoulders and head and back, all the while uttering a long, continuous inarticulate scream of pure rage. Kyle, dying, collapsed forward, releasing his throat and grabbing hold of Rachael as if with some insane desire to drag her down into death with him.

Even then Glory kept chopping at him. Rachael couldn’t tell if this was a reaction to Kyle injuring her or the way this wild woman always fought. Either way, it was terrifying.

Then, as if a switch had been thrown, Glory stopped, locked for a moment in place, her knife and knife-hand dripping with blood as Kyle sank lifelessly to the ground. Glory’s eyes stared at him and then slowly rose to stare Rachael in the eyes. The mask of mindless fury transformed all at once. The mad lights in her eyes were replaced by a sudden look of hunger. A naked and terrible look of gluttony.

“Mine,” said the woman softly as carnage raged all around her. “First you, and then your whole damn town. Mine.”

Rachael tried to tell her that Happy Valley wasn’t her town. That she was no part of any of this. That this was all wrong.

But there was no time left for any of that.

— 34 —: DAHLIA AND THE PACK

— 34 —

DAHLIA AND THE PACK

Dahlia got up and walked out of the forest.