Chapter 46

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Ross followed droplets of blood. They zigzagged through the tall grass as if the Trill had stumbled back and forth, trying to keep himself from falling.

He's gotta be close.

Blood spatter in the grass dwindled. If he didn't hurry, Guy would heal completely and he'd lose his opportunity to see if Alexa's formula worked.

A tuft of grass rustled ahead. He flicked the safety off on the dart gun and took off in a dead sprint, scanning the field in front of him as he followed the crimson trail. He stopped where the path in the grass split. One track doubled back toward the truck. The blood path continued forward.

The girls.

Ross knew if he didn't get back fast, he'd probably lose all three of them.

He turned.

A wolfish shriek pierced his ears from behind. It happened fast and deliberate. He switched the shotgun from his right hand to his left and pulled the dart gun from the back of his pants where he'd tucked it into his belt. In a fluid motion, he dropped to his back. He steadied the pistol, took aim and fired. The dart whooshed, unlike the blast of the shotgun which followed. Guy sailed over him and rolled on the grass. He flipped back to his feet and took an attack stance.

Ross rolled onto his belly. The dart dangled from Guy's neck. Not knowing if the dart had injected the formula, he again pulled the pistol's trigger and shot Guy under the right arm; one of their known soft spots and a place Alexa's car had left an abrasion.

Guy stood, stumbled forward and fell face first into the grass with a thump. For some reason, Ross felt bad for shooting him. Since he had named him, it felt like they had a connection. Hopefully, he'd survived and they still had one live specimen for Dr. Mason.

Tufts of breath laid a dismal path as Ross crawled through the mist toward Guy. No clouds of air wafted in the cool evening breeze from him. When he reached him, Ross felt for a pulse. He didn't even know if it had a heart, let alone veins and arteries.

Ross's skin crawled as he placed two fingers on the Trill's throat. One word came to him, plastic. Guy's skin unnerved him. He crawled to his knees and rolled Guy toward him, onto his back. No muscles twitched and his eyelids had shut. The wound in his chest hadn't healed. She'd done it. Alexa had either reversed the process or she found some sort of miracle poison to weaken them. Now he needed to get back to the girls; the other Trill had doubled back.


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