The Virus Within: Third Wave (Book 2)

Chapter 2

I waited and stared levelly at the Nightstalkers as the silence and suspense increased like a drawn bow. When it became clear I wasn't leaving, one of the men shifted his stance with a low snarl, trying to intimidate me.

I turned my head infinitesimally toward the trees, as if something had caught my attention and I was trying to hide it. The Nightstalker between Daniel and that area whirled to face the trees with a growl, expecting an attack from the hidden enemy.

The other two glanced back. Using as much strength as I could, I whipped my crowbar at the growling Nightstalker's head. The moment it left my hand, I charged forward with silent footsteps.

I reached behind my back with both hands and pulled out my sickle and the can of spray paint that I had wedged behind the sickle's sheath. Throughout my earlier circling, I had painstakingly angled my body just enough that they couldn't see the bulge under the back of my shirt from the can. I hoped all that effort was about to pay off.

The crowbar whistled through the air, and just as the Nightstalker started to turn back, the piece of steel slammed into his head with an echoing thud. He dropped to the ground, unconscious.

The other two Nightstalkers began to react, only now realizing the fight had begun. I raised the can of blue paint and snarled, having almost reached the closest Nightstalker. He whirled around with his knife at the ready, but I had already pressed the plunger.

He was completely unprepared for a ranged weapon, and the blue paint hit him right in the face. He stumbled backward, quickly trying to wipe his welding goggles clean so he could see.

I threw the can at him and pegged him in the shoulder, still charging forward. He swiped at the can with his knife, thinking it was me. I grabbed his wrist to immobilize the knife and slashed at his throat with my sickle.

His free hand lashed out, and his arm collided with mine, preventing my sickle from landing a solid strike. He roared in pain as my weapon cut through part of his neck. Twisting to the side, he slammed his weight forward, crashing into me.

The collision allowed him to break free from my grasp, and the force sent his blade slashing forward. There wasn't enough time for me to pull my sickle back or grab my belt knife, and I snarled as the knife sliced deep into my right arm.

I dropped to the ground and jumped backward while reaching for my belt knife. My hand grasped only empty air. At the same instant, I saw the blade laying on the trampled grass. It must have fallen out of its sheath when he collided with me.

A sinking feeling grew in my stomach. I had been counting on having two weapons during this fight. My saving grace was that the Nightstalker was solely focused on me and hadn't noticed the knife by his feet.

My feet skidded on the grass as I landed. From the snarling on the other side of the clearing, the third Nightstalker was losing his fight against Daniel even though he had a belt knife and his foe was unarmed.

I tuned them out; unless Daniel made some sort of unfathomable blunder, his speed and reflexes were such that I knew who would win, although he might acquire a few more injuries in the process.

My fight against this Nightstalker was a much more even match and not in my favor. The cut to the side of his neck was bleeding heavily, but he was larger than me. The spray paint had given me an edge, but I was down to just my sickle now.

I circled him silently, waiting for an opening or hoping he'd move away from that spot so I could grab my knife. When he tried to rub more paint off his goggles with a quick brush of his arm, I darted in.

He saw me through his streaky lenses and raised his knife in time to block my sickle with a resounding clang of metal. The fingernails on my other hand dug deep into his forearm, although not quite in the right spot to damage the tendons and prevent him from wielding his weapon.