In The End Box Set | Books 1-3 Stevens, GJ (story books to read TXT) 📖

to head into the garden, jogging around the house and slowing as we came around the second corner. She stopped, retreating to the safety of the brick. The two sentries were walking back to their posts.

Shouts were going on in the background but aimed elsewhere. I ran back the way we'd come and saw the creature still heading in the direction it would have last seen us; the direction I'd just shown my face again.

Back around the house I saw Cassie looking out. She stepped back and met my eye.

“They've seen it. The skinhead's heading its way,” she said, her breath still coming fast.

I looked around, only just managing to pull back as the guy turned in our direction, his round head tilted at an angle. He wasn't as thick as his looks. He'd realised the direction the creature was taking and had altered his own course around the house to cut it off.

Our one chance was if the creature had locked onto the new threat, or promise of food, or whatever the motive of those animals could be.

I motioned for Cassie to follow back the way we'd come, but rounding the corner our shoulders sank as we saw the creature on us, having ignored the thug who was about to score himself three for the price of one.

53

The metal claw dug through the creature's bright-white shirt as Cassie drove home a high swinging blow, its features unchanging as it staggered back against her push to free the bar from its flesh.

I turned away, screwdriver out with the shaft pointing down from my fist. I was ready as I ever would be to defend us against the other animal about to appear from around the corner.

It wasn't the first time I'd wished I'd taken time to find a bigger weapon. Cassie's shoulders knocked at my back and I turned, watching the end of her swing, pulling the prongs from beneath its skin. My gaze caught the back door and its brass handle, all of a sudden fixed on why neither of us had tried it.

Cold in my grip, I held the handle hard like my life depended on what happened in the next few seconds and as it pivoted, the door swung open.

I stood in disbelief for longer than a moment. My breath fell away and I eventually turned, still without saying a word.

My hand leapt forward to Cassie at my back, just in time to pull her out of the arch of a sweeping clawed attack. I yanked so hard she tripped backwards over the concrete step, the air rushing out of her lungs as I struggled to lessen her fall.

Still, I dragged her further in, only letting go to leap back to the door; pushing it closed with my shoulder and pulling back a split second before it could slam.

We still had a chance. The creature was on the other side, his hands batting useless against the glass.

I dropped to the floor with my back at the door, leaning hard in case it gained sentience and pushed the handle.

Cassie had the right idea and scurried up against the kitchen counter, staying low. Together we listened to each other's breath and the excited thud, thud, thud of beech against once-human flesh; listened to the satisfying crack of bone against concrete, our eyes fixed hard on each other.

I broke away for a moment, seeking out the lock only to find it empty. No key in the door.

The thing was down, at rest again. This time as it should be. Permanently.

The one who'd done the deed was not. He stood on the opposite side of the thin wooden door and all he needed to do was push the handle.

My gaze darted around the room. We were in a modern, open plan kitchen, a breakfast bar at my side, tall stools not so far away. Across all but one wall were dark granite-doored cupboards. I couldn't see any more detail and was too low to catch if there was anything of use on the counter tops. A long knife or a cleaver sitting in a knife block would be my preference; still I'd have to get in quick. Get in quietly, like the SAS, minus the years of training and the balls of steel.

I heard footsteps, feet scuffing on the concrete behind. Cassie's wide eyes told me she saw shadows moving closer. There was no time to form a plan, to figure out the best course of action.

Slowly moving from my butt to my knees, I watched Cassie roll from where she’d settled; watched her walk on all fours, scrabbling with me at her back to the carpeted hallway.

The hall was bright and I continued to follow, continued to take her lead as she rose to her feet, jogging across the short gap to the stairs before carefully lowering to each step as she rose.

With my first step from the ground floor I heard a smash of glass and leapt up higher, pushing her on. She'd heard the sound too, the twinkling of the glass to the tiled floor from what we knew was the business end of the baseball bat raking around the rectangle of glass.

We were up the stairs and in the front bedroom, the floor creaking wild with each step as we took in the straight-edged double bed in the centre. A wardrobe ran across the far wall and a door tucked in the opposite corner.

A call came from outside, but we couldn't get the detail. The skinhead replied. He was in the house, his bat dragging along the worktops and knocking over whatever had been in its path, according to the constant shatter.

“Give us a hand. We've hit the jackpot.”

54

Hoping it was the promise of the plush interior, the high-end kitchen, the mirrored chest of drawers, the flat-screen