Hungry Independents (Book 2)
to eat her too.”
    The dark fingernails flicked. Hunter jerked
     his head forward and then rammed backward. He felt the solid crunch
     of something soft.
    Tommy screamed, standing up. Hunter scrambled
     for the stick, rolled up, and found Tommy holding his busted,
     bleeding nose. He rushed forward, but instead of trying the
     impaling trick again, he hit the brakes and swung. The broom staff
     smashed against Tommy’s head. Quickly, Hunter spun the staff around
     and crashed it on the other side of Tommy, right in the hip. Then
     it was a one-sided sword fight, swinging at random targets, with
     Tommy trying to guess where the staff was headed next and always
     protecting the wrong spot.
    Tommy would not go down and Hunter found
     himself slowing from exhaustion. Then Tommy got it right. He caught
     the staff and yanked it from Hunter’s hands.
    Tommy staggered on his feet, holding Hunter’s
     weapon. Hunter wavered, out of breath and energy. The staff blurred
     in Tommy’s thrust and the broomstick pierced Hunter’s stomach.
     Tommy yanked the staff out and Hunter knew his intestines followed
     as his stomach burned. He hoped his invincibility was about to kick
     in because the pain exploded into his brain and he cried in
     anguish, falling to the ground and waiting, waiting…
    Tommy scuffled over. “You almost had me
     there, but not quite…”
    A brick flew by and smashed Tommy in the
     face, followed by more rocks and debris. A dozen angry voices
     yelled threats. He hoped Scout had come to save him with a group
     from Independents. Jimmy would be mad. Hunter lifted his head, but
     his eyesight blurred the small forms rushing at Tommy. His head
     bounced off the pavement as he remembered something important
     before fading out.
    Jimmy was dead.

 
Ten
Molly
     
    Mark followed her through Independents. It
     was really kind of sweet, but Molly hoped he didn’t expect to make
     it a habit. It would be inconvenient when she had to use the
     outhouse or wanted to take a bath or, God forbid, have “cuddle
     time” with her boyfriend.
    At least her twin brother didn’t object to
     her relationship anymore since Hunter had proven himself worthy.
     Molly smiled. She was the one who had to prove to everyone in
     Independents that she was good enough after her betrayal involving
     Catherine’s kidnapping last November. But Catherine had made Molly
     good again. And that was enough.
    Molly stopped at the corner of a street. Mark
     walked right into her and barely had time to catch her before she
     fell.
    “Mark, really, I’m fine. Catherine said that
     the hellhounds only come out at night.”
    “Yeah, well, what if something else is out
     here to get you? I’m not taking any chances.”
    “I don’t even know why Catherine thinks they
     were after me. I’m nothing special. Not like the chickens and pigs
     they killed before finding us. They could have been going after
     Sam.”
    “Why would they go after Sam?”
    She sat on the curb and retied her shoe.
     “He’s the one that feeds this town now. Without him, I don’t think
     the other kids working in the field would know what to plant where
     and when it’s time to harvest.” She stood and brushed off the back
     of her jeans. “Besides, the dogs bit him first.”
    Mark raised an eyebrow and rested his hands
     on his hips.
    Molly shook her head. “At least go home and
     put some clothes on. Those boxer shorts aren’t leaving a lot to the
     imagination. Vanessa is going to have your butt. Plus, you’re
     starting to draw a crowd.”
    Mark followed Molly’s line of sight to the
     group of little girls dismally failing to hide behind a bush at the
     house across the street. They pointed and giggled until they
     noticed that Mark had spotted them and then they scattered every
     which way.
    Mark adjusted his boxers and blushed. “Let’s
     head over to my place so I can change, then we’ll go to breakfast.
     It might be a long time before we eat ham and

Similar Books

Second Shot

Zoe Sharp

Breathe

Sloan Parker

The Lost Boy

Dave Pelzer