Maybe, I would be able to find another weapon inside the shack. My eyes roved around but found nothing. With frustration, I realized I couldn’t let the men leave without taking one of their guns. My plan was deranged, but it would be even worse without a weapon.
As the two guards walked out of the shack, I came around the corner, watching as they walked toward the dock with firm, determined steps.
Shutting my whirling thoughts down, I simply acted. Fast on my feet, I dashed forward, aiming for Karl’s weapon. I sensed the moment that he heard me, paused, and started to turn around. Before he could, I jumped into the air, beat my wings as fast as I could, and slammed both hands against his back, pushing him with all my strength and momentum.
He went staggering forward and fell on top of his companion. They collapsed on the dock, one on top of the other.
Wasting no time, I went for the handgun at Karl’s waist. I pulled on it, but it didn’t come out. I tried again, but Karl’s arm shot out and knocked my hand away.
With a curse, he rolled over and jumped to his feet, eyes roving all around. “What the fuck?” He dexterously unsnapped a strap from the holster, pulled out his gun, and aimed blindly. “Stay away!” His voice broke as he brandished his weapon around.
I crouched low on the wooden planks, afraid he might start shooting blindly.
His partner was on his feet now, his weapon drawn. “What the hell was that?”
“Someone pushed me,” Karl answered, his eyes wild, his index finger tight on the trigger. His panic was hanging by a thread. I could see it clearly. He would snap at any moment.
I considered wrestling for one of their guns, but I knew I couldn’t beat these men. They would kill me. If I fought them now, it would defeat the purpose of leaving my friends, of leaving Vaughn.
That was when I noticed what they’d called a screwdriver lying on the dock. The tool had a bright red handle and a cylindrical metal shaft that ended into a flattened tip. It didn’t compare to a gun or even a knife, but it was better than nothing, and it would serve my plan all the same.
Springing forward, I flew toward the screwdriver, snatched it, and kept going. One of the guards stuck his foot out at the sound of my wings and caught me in the chin. I winced at the pain but kept flying past the dock, skimming over the water.
Shots rang out—some wild and high, others coming too close for comfort, breaking the surface of the ocean, and disappearing in the darkness.
I kept going, making my way back toward the shore. Soon. I reached land and set my course back toward the caves. I needed to take a small detour before I headed toward the dome.
After a quick trip by the caves, I approached the dome by way of the bridge. The screwdriver was secured behind my back, tucked at my pants’ waistband, and wrapped into a sheath I’d fashioned out of a wide leaf.
As I landed and scanned the area, I found no signs of a mutant army or anyone roaming the perimeter, which showed how confident the Habermanns felt about their hold.
My heart thundered out of control, so loud I heard it in my ears. The night was clear and moonlit and, despite the feeling of doom that enveloped me, I felt relieved to know that my friends and Vaughn were on their way to safety.
This could all go horribly if my assumptions about Karen were wrong, but I felt fairly certain about them.
No turning back now, Tally.
Taking a deep breath, I dropped my glamour, became visible, and took a step forward, leering at the building past the shimmering barrier. Standing there fully visible, I waited for the large garage door to scroll open, but nothing happened.
Why? Were they not watching? I highly doubted that.
With another deep breath, I called on my enemy. “KAREN!”
My voice came out raw and scratchy. I cleared my throat and called again. “KAREN! Come out and face me.”
I called five times before the garage door finally opened. My heart sank when an army of mutant Supernaturals marched out of the building in perfect rows and measured synchronicity. Their unrest from earlier in the day had disappeared and been replaced by a cold impassiveness that chilled me to the bone.
Anger flared in my gut. “Karen, you coward.