flying when Kawosa exploded from the back window. His arms were held in front of his face and his skinny, ragged body came through the bent opening as if he’d been catapulted toward the street. Either she had convinced herself to see through the mask or Kawosa was no longer wearing it, because he now had the slender build of a short man with long, raven-black hair, clad in filthy rawhide leggings and a beaded necklace flapping around his neck. After shifting into the body of a gangly coyote, he hopped onto the guardrail and skittered along its uneven surface back in the direction from which they’d driven.
Too stunned to try standing up just yet, Paige dragged herself toward the middle of the expressway. A narrow oasis beckoned as glaring headlights washed over her. She closed her eyes, lowered her head and let out a vicious groan as a Grim Reaper on four bald tires rolled straight at her. The car blared its horn, swerved to the right and screeched a few inches from her feet. The continued sound of its horn was added to the honking chorus around her as she moved on. No time to be thankful.
The median was barely wider than Paige’s torso. It was a long speed bump running along the center of the expressway, dotted with the occasional cement divider. She rolled onto her side, reached for the Beretta at her hip and came up empty. The gun and holster must have been peeled away somewhere during her tumble. At least the weapon had provided some much needed cushioning for the fall. She shifted her search toward the shoulder holster. That one was still there, but it was torn up pretty badly. She drew the pistol and aimed it at the car wreck while pulling herself up to her feet.
Even with the healing serum flowing through her veins, she was hurting. The body armor she’d worn to raid Cobb’s house had come in more useful now than when she’d been wading through a room full of angry Nymar. Much of the tactical vest had been shredded, exposing the Half Breed hide underneath. That left the hardened shell of the vest itself, which did its job nicely by preventing her skin from being peeled away. Since there was no sign of Rico yet, she took a quick peek at her right arm. Immediately, she wished she hadn’t.
It had been a while since that arm was normal. She’d been injured some time ago, but being able to move it normally and feel a full range of sensation through it was just a fond memory. Her most recent gamble had worked in that her arm withstood the punishment of her fall. Like the tactical vest, the outer layers were stripped away, revealing the true extent of the injury she’d received in Kansas City. Flesh had been frozen into a hardened shell that looked more like a crude sketch of human anatomy instead of the real thing. Blood was caked onto it like an old stain made by cheap, flaking red paint, and when she flexed her arm tentatively, the veins barely shifted within the mess. Paige couldn’t bear to look at it any longer. She didn’t even want to know how much of her arm was being preserved by the healing serum and how much was simply kept in its petrified state by whatever toxins were still inside of her.
Another car horn, followed by a familiar voice snarling viciously at the twisted metal around him, was all she needed to get back on the proper track. Her legs hurt but were still moving and supporting her weight. Because of the healing serum produced within her bloodstream, the pain filling her entire body ignited her resolve, instead of crippling her like it would a normal person. When she hobbled into the next lane to take advantage of a small opening between approaching cars, she only glanced occasionally to either side. Compared to what she’d left behind, oncoming traffic was the least of her worries.
The expressway was slick beneath her boots, but not slippery. That worked in her favor by getting the cars to slow down as they rounded the bend to avoid the same sort of crash that she had purposely endured. By the time she neared the guardrail on the opposite side of the road from the wrecked rental car, she heard a bellowing voice roll toward her from the other side of the expressway.
“Where do you think