Back The Inexplicables
Chapters (41)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. Map of Seattle
  6. Contents
  7. Epigraph
  8. Chapter 1
  9. Chapter 2
  10. Chapter 3
  11. Chapter 4
  12. Chapter 5
  13. Chapter 6
  14. Chapter 7
  15. Chapter 8
  16. Chapter 9
  17. Chapter 10
  18. Chapter 11
  19. Chapter 12
  20. Chapter 13
  21. Chapter 14
  22. Chapter 15
  23. Chapter 16
  24. Chapter 17
  25. Chapter 18
  26. Chapter 19
  27. Chapter 20
  28. Chapter 21
  29. Chapter 22
  30. Chapter 23
  31. Chapter 24
  32. Chapter 25
  33. Chapter 26
  34. Chapter 27
  35. Chapter 28
  36. Chapter 29
  37. Chapter 30
  38. Epilogue
  39. Tor Books by Cherie Priest
  40. About the Author
  41. Copyright

“No, we’ll go this way,” Rector informed him as he took him by the wrist and dragged him in the opposite direction of what Zeke had clearly expected. “One block over the other way, then four blocks down. We’ll have time to announce ourselves, and join the fight if there’s a fight to join.” It dawned on him just then that this was why armies wore uniforms, so you could tell your side’s fellows from the other side’s.

They dashed to the left and found the edge of the nearest block, then hunkered down long enough to light a lantern outside spotting distance of the park; but when it was lit, they didn’t take time to catch their breath. They only gathered their strength enough to begin another dash, this time downhill—and only one street over from the mayhem that was spilling down that same hill, hoping to escape.

“Rector!” Zeke gasped. “Rector, do you hear that?”

Rector gasped back, “What?”

“I hear … I hear…”

And then Rector heard it, too. They weren’t the only two people who were wheezing their way along the hill. Something else was nearby, something rather close and very sudden. It charged up out of the fog and straight at them.

A rotter. An old one.

Zeke screamed outright, and Rector would’ve joined him if he’d had the time to do so—but he didn’t. Rector was out in front, and the rotter seized him first. He shoved it back, and it pushed forward, moaning and grunting as its jagged rows of broken teeth snapped for Rector’s face.

The dead thing struggled with strength it shouldn’t have had. A thing so skinny, so far decomposed … it shouldn’t wield a grip like that; it shouldn’t have been able to grasp, hold, and bite with such ferocity. It clung to Rector, pinning his arms and knocking him to the ground where they rolled together, the rotter clamping its jaws over and over, and Rector swinging his skull—his only free weapon—in an attempt to headbutt the thing away from him.

A second rotter loomed up out of the fog, revealed by the light of the dropped lantern. Rector tried to call out and warn Zeke, but bless the kid, he was already on it.