Sparrow's Flight (Savage World 1)

“Fucking asshole shot me.”

Ash looked at his shoulder, saw the entrance and exit wound, and thanked whoever the hell was listening for small favors. “Come on. I don’t know how many other guys they have stashed in this camp, and I know the infected have to be on their way.” Everything that happened since they fired off that first shot had gone by quickly. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but fuck did it feel like it lasted a lifetime. “We need to get to the cabin.”

“We have to find Sparrow.” Yeah, they did, but Mason was no help right now when he was barely holding himself up and the blood was a steady flow from his arm.

“We will.” And they would, because that was their girl, whether she knew it or not.

Chapter Ten

Sparrow dragged herself out of the lake and immediately collapsed on the rocky shore. She gasped for air and blinked back the water that was steadily dripping down her face. Her hair stuck in clunks to her cheeks and forehead, and even though she knew she had to keep going, she was exhausted from running through the woods and swimming across the lake. Survival was grueling and painful, but it was worth it to stay alive. By some miracle, she still held the gun Blondie had given her.

Hauling herself off the ground, she stumbled forward once and caught herself before face-planting on the rocks beneath her. She looked over her shoulder, saw the fire still burning brightly across the water, and heard the gunshots as if she was still standing in the thick of it. Once she heard that first shot go off, she pulled away from her bonds and headed for the water. She contemplated heading into the woods, but Collin warned her there were men lying in wait. Whether that was true or not, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t stupid enough to find out. So, she dove into the frigid water.

She turned back around, held onto the butt of her gun even tighter due to her involuntarily shaking body, and made her way quickly through the trees. Her limbs felt still, her muscles aching from the exertion and the cold that seeped into her body, but she forced herself to keep going. It was dark, and no moonlight pierced through the thick branches overhead. Sparrow had no idea where she was going, or where she would end up, but anything was better than what was behind her.

Keeping straight, she had to right herself several times as her feet kept catching on branches and vines. Her heart was pounding fast, filling her ears, clogging her throat, and drowning out everything aside from the fact that she needed to keep running. A flash of white to her side caught her eye, and she turned to look, but before she could see anything, she fell over a fallen log. Head slamming against the hard, unforgiving ground, she groaned and immediately gripped her temple.

The throbbing pain was intense, and she tried to shake it off and stand again but stilled when she heard the low, gurgled groan coming from right behind her. Pulling up all of her strength, Sparrow crawled onto her hands and knees, and pulled herself into a standing position. The feel of warm wetness sliding down her temple didn’t distract her from the fact that an infected man was shuffling toward her. His shirt was grungy but white enough that she saw him in the thick darkness. He was missing an arm, and the sight of his radius and ulna protruding from what was left of the limb had bile rising in her throat.

He opened his mouth and made a low, hungry sound. His arm was swinging from side to side as he came closer, and she blinked away the dizziness from her fall, lifted the gun, and pointed it at his head. Parts of his flesh were missing from his face, and the oozing wounds that covered him from head to toe were a grisly visualization of what the world was coming to. Sparrow wasn’t that good at shooting, so she waited until he was at least close enough that there wouldn’t be any way she could miss.

Right when she was about to pull the trigger, the sound of another moan coming from behind her had her spinning around just in time to see an infected female with half her jaw missing lunge forward and tackle her to the ground.

They fell as a heap, and the stench of decay was enough to have vomit rising in Sparrow throat. The gun slipped from her hand, and she placed both hands on the female’s shoulders—ones that had bone protruding through the skin—and pushed her away as hard as she could. The infected fell backward, and the sickening sound of her head cracking against a rock echoed through the trees. Sparrow scrambled up, searched for the gun amidst the dead leaves and foliage on the ground, but had to give up her search when the male grabbed her arm. Kicking her leg out and connecting with his stomach, she gagged when her foot went through his abdomen. He fell backward, and she went with him, since her foot was caught under his ribcage.