Rage surged through her, and she used it to throw herself against the closest man, the momentum driving him to the floor and knocking his knife out of his hand. She slammed her knife hilt against his head three times, knocking him out. A second man grabbed at her, swinging his knife at her face in retaliation. Ducking out of the way, she sunk her blade into the soft flesh on the inside of his thigh, causing him to collapse in a howl of pain.

Rachael didn’t want to kill them. She didn’t like to kill; not people, not animals, not anything. She didn’t even like killing the undead orcs, though that was a survival necessity.

It is, however, somewhat fuzzier on the subject of kneecaps, the Firefly quote popped into her fangirl brain. She scurried back to the shadows as more men streamed into the lobby. She was getting used to the near-darkness. Shapes were beginning to form, helping her make sense of what was going on around her. More fighting upstairs from the sound of it, shouting and screaming. No gunshots, but the grunting and thumping of bodies hitting the floor worried her.

“Please let them not be mine,” she murmured to herself, creeping along the wall. Her whisper was louder than she intended, and two dark shapes in the center of the lobby turned, looking around for the source of the sound. At the same moment, a smaller, feminine shape appeared in the gloom by the front door. Maria.

The men turned, raising their knives, only a few yards away from the young teen. Rachael stood, using that moment to slide across the tile and slash at the backs of one man’s ankles. He collapsed with a yell as Maria swung a wooden sword hard at the other man’s head, cracking the weapon down the middle with a sickening sound of breaking bone.

After that, silence.

Brian clicked on their electric lantern, restoring some light to the lobby. Better. Rachael climbed to her feet. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Is everyone okay?”

“Th-they’re fine,” Maria replied, as the two came in for a hug. “I-I-I was worried, I wanted to make sure you were okay,” she said, blinking back tears. She looked at the blood staining Rachael’s arm with concern.

Rachael stroked the girl’s hair comfortingly. “It’s okay, I’m okay. But I need to check on everyone upstairs.”

None of Mark’s men were still standing; most of them appeared to be either dead or unconscious. Mark, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“Have you seen Mark?” she asked as her warriors secured the fallen men. They looked at her and shook their heads.

“He must have taken off during the fight,” Alice suggested.

Rachael didn’t feel so confident. She crept past the others, eyes darting around as she made her way cautiously down one hallway, then another in the dark. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She sensed the presence of another person, heard the quiet breathing of someone around a corner.