through a clenched jaw. “Something’s wrong with me. It feels like . . . like I broke some—” His words became a scream as his face twisted into a nightmarish version of its former self. His body flopped against the floor while his hands reached out to grab anything within reach.
“Holy shit,” Cole said as he rushed over to his side. “What’s wrong?”
The first crunch could have been made by the soldier’s boot stomping against some rubble or a fallen piece of equipment. The second definitely came from inside his body, but wasn’t extraordinary considering how wildly he was thrashing. When the soldier came to a stop, his breath was caught in his throat and his back arched. Four or five wet pops flowed through his torso as his bones were snapped like twigs inside him.
Cole stood up and watched in disbelief as more of the soldier’s bones cracked into pieces. When the man opened his mouth again, his voice was a deep-throated groan. Smaller bumps formed on his arms and face, popping open to release bundles of thick, wiry fur from his skin.
“You weren’t bitten,” Cole said. “I checked. You had to have been bitten for this to happen. Bitten down to the bone. Nothing got to you!”
The scream that had been building inside the soldier erupted amid a spray of blood and spit that flew from his mouth and then rained down upon his face. He slapped and kicked the slanted floor while more of his bones cracked inside his body.
“What the fuck is happening?” Cole asked, even though he already knew the answer. He’d seen the before picture and he’d seen the after, but this was the first time he’d seen one transition into the other.
“You’re a Skin . . . Skinner, right?” the soldier asked when the crackling within his body subsided.
Cole nodded.
The soldier’s eyes had been light brown a moment ago. Now they shifted into the dark, clouded orbs of a feral monster that was just beginning to feel its first pangs of hunger. His jaw opened as far as it could go, trembled, and then snapped with a loud, wet crunch. It was a grisly sight that captivated Cole in a way that was both unexplainable and shameful. Once he recovered from his shock, he gripped the wooden weapon Jessup had given him and drove it into the soldier’s heart.
The instant the sharpened end found its new home, Cole felt sick. He should have done it sooner, before the soldier was forced to endure the Breaking. He’d put plenty of Half Breeds down, but not until they were ready, willing, and able to tear his head off. This wasn’t a matter of survival. It felt like murder. Through the weapon’s handle he could feel the vibration of deeper bones breaking. That’s when he knew the act he’d just committed wasn’t murder, but mercy. Unfortunately for both of them, this act wasn’t over yet.
The soldier still squirmed and pushed air from his lungs. Cole pulled the blade out, raised it high in both hands and dropped it down into the soldier’s chest. Finally, the younger man’s body slumped and the final huff of air escaped through bloodied lips.
Cole couldn’t bear to look at the body. He didn’t even want to think about what the poor bastard had become. Instead, he thought about everything that had happened up to that point. Gunfire still chattered in the distance, probably fired by members of a genuine shadow government agency. When he looked over the rest of the men who’d been in the helicopter during the crash, he realized there was nothing he could do for them. The soldier had mentioned seeing more than one Full Blood. If that was more than just a slip of the tongue due to a whole lot of pain, he would need more than a wooden club and a few guns to deal with them. He made his way to the metal locker at the back of the helicopter, pulled it open and found a rack of assault rifles and several cases of ammunition. He slung one rifle over each shoulder, scooped some ammo into his pockets, and left the rest.
Talons scraped against the side of the helicopter, sounding close enough to all the other scraping for Cole to dismiss it after a quick look through the small square window built into the side door. On his way to the front of the cabin, he gripped the steel posts to maintain his balance