Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“Yeah. If there’s a group of people, he can’t target exactly which one he wants it to attack. But if someone was hurting him, the snake would go for that person.”
“Why? How?”
He lowers his brows. “Aromium.”
I slow slightly, unable to keep Marcus’s pace. He matches me.
“I can’t believe any scientist with a shred of ethics would create that nightmare,” I seethe. “We have to destroy it. All of it.”
“I’m trying. Not having much success so far, though.”
“Tell me about the owner of—”
“Fuck!” Marcus stops and bends to grab his calf, where bright-red blood seeps from a fresh slash.
I don’t even take time to think. I swipe his machete and jump in front of him, slicing the head off a massive praying mantis. At least, that’s what it looks like, but it’s the size of a full-grown golden retriever, Marcus’s blood staining one of its razor-sharp forelegs. It’s covered with a brown, leathery skin.
“What the fuck is that?” I yell.
“Genetically engineered mantis,” he mutters. “They’re mean fuckers.”
I gape at him. “Who thought that was a good idea? They have compound eyes and they can see in 3D. And those legs are like razors.”
He grimaces. “Let’s talk about it later. We have to get back.”
“Let’s see your leg.”
“It’s fine.”
This asshole. I’m in no mood for his heroics. I can’t carry him back to camp.
“Move your hand!”
He does, and I groan when I see blood gushing from the four-inch gash in his calf. “Get out the first-aid stuff.”
“Briar—”
I turn in a circle, my thumb poised over the activation pad on the stun stick. If any other mutant creatures are coming our way, I’m going to zap the shit out of them.
“Stop wasting time and get it,” I snap. “You know it needs bandaged.”
I hear him riffling around in his pack. I give him about fifteen seconds, and when I look back at him, he’s wrapped the wound with an entire roll of gauze and he’s getting to his knees to stand.
“Let’s go,” he says, his voice strained.
“No more running.”
He scowls at me. “I missed the part where I put you in charge.”
“Get over yourself. And radio Nova and tell her to have someone meet us to help get you back.”
“I can’t.”
“Pretty sure you can.”
He narrows his eyes at me, putting more weight on his uninjured right leg. “We don’t give that kind of information over the radio.”
My instinct is to argue, but it makes sense, so I don’t. Instead, I put my arm around his back and force him to put an arm around my shoulders.
“You said you liked me back in the cave, but this really isn’t the time,” he quips.
“Oh, you’ve got jokes? Right after a dog-sized mantis attacked you and I cut its head off?”
“I told you this jungle isn’t safe.”
I scoff, his back hard and warm beneath my palm. “You could’ve been a little more specific.”
“What fun would that be?”
My note of laughter is humorless. “There’s nothing fun about this place.”
“I’m fine to make it back. We can jog.”
“We’re not jogging.”
“Because I’m faster?”
My eyes widen as I look at him, nervous energy coursing through me. “I’ll stab you in the other leg, and I’ll enjoy it.”
“Okay, okay. Keep your arm around me. We’re almost there anyway.”
The camp has a tall tower at its center, where someone keeps watch around the clock with binoculars. Whoever is there must’ve seen us, because Niran is racing out of the camp entrance as we approach.
“What happened?” he cries.
All traces of the carefree Niran I know are gone. His expression is panicked, his gaze locked onto Marcus.
“I’m fine. A mantis grazed my leg.”
Niran looks at the back of his calf, his brow furrowed. “You’re bleeding through the gauze. That’s not a graze.”
Marcus grunts with disapproval as Niran takes over for me, shouldering his weight. “I need a few stitches, but I’m fine. Briar can take me. Work on storm protocol.”
I’ve been so concerned about Marcus that I forgot about the storm. When I look up, I see that the sky is now a darker gray than it was before, clouds moving quickly. The mushy sleet has gotten harder and is now more like hail.
“Nova’s got the storm protocol,” Niran says.
Marcus shakes him off with a growling sound. “There’s a lot to do, get your ass moving! This is gonna be a bitch of a storm. The animals have to be moved and the crops have to be covered.”
We just walked through the front gates, which the guards close and lock behind us. I breathe a little easier knowing we’re protected by the tall, spike-covered fence.
“I’ll take him,” I tell Niran, giving him a sympathetic look.
He nods. “Thanks. He’s a real asshole when he’s in pain.”
“Oh, you mean...” I look from Niran to Marcus and back to Niran again. “This isn’t just his usual personality?”
Niran grins. “Well, that too.”