was so dangerous, there would be no warnings. No chance to give up. No chance for the suspect to place a weapon on the ground and raise her hands. No chance. Because Carollette was a weapon.
FireWind and Rick shared a look and FireWind gave a single jutting nod, his lips saying, “Go.” Rick aimed, took a breath, released half of it, and fired. A beanbag filled with steel pellets hit our suspect in the left chest. She rocked in her chair, her head whipping side to side.
Rick fired again, hitting his target. Carollette fell to the porch, her hands to her chest, her breath knocked out twice.
T. Laine threw all the null pens at the porch. They landed around the downed ajasgili.
T. Laine and FireWind raced in, the big boss with his weapon aimed at Carollette’s head. T. Laine secured Carollette in official steel cuffs and then in silvered null wrist cuffs. While she was still trying to recover, T. Laine bound her head in silver skull cuffs, two of them, taking no chances. They backed away and the three witches cast a ward around the downed woman, a small but powerful hedge of thorns. The ward was so strong it cast a bright red glow in the night, something I hadn’t seen before.
The body language of the surrounding unit and witches relaxed, the witches blowing out hard breaths.
FireWind backed away, his weapon pointed at the ground.
Margot, who was closest to me, chuckled and stood, her words carrying to me. “Well, that was easy.”
But it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t over.
The earth trembled.
Death and decay began to rise.
Everything happened, almost too fast to follow.
FireWind raised his hunting rifle.
Catriona, Etain, and T. Laine whirled and began pouring energies into the hedge.
Margot bent over the hood of the car she had hidden behind. Aimed her target pistol.
FireWind aimed.
Rick dropped the beanbag gun. Pulled his service weapon, racing in.
The hedge of thorns, intended to enclose the necromancer and contain her death and decay energies, sparked and stuttered. The energies died.
FireWind fired.
Occam raced toward the porch, his eyes glowing in the night. His service weapon out in front. Holding the remains of the potted cabbage in the crook of my arm, I opened my car’s passenger door, falling as the earth shook. I landed on my knees. Made it to my feet, clutching the car door. Gasping.
There wasn’t much Soulwood soil left in the pot. There wasn’t much of me left. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t. And I had to.
Gunshots sounded, cracking on the night.
Tears raced down my face.
More shots sounded.
The earth rolled and shook.
My feet dragged as I approached the porch. More shots sounded. Death and decay roiled and stretched, aiming at our witches. Aiming at Occam, who fired from the far side of the house. When the porch was thirty feet ahead, I tried to say, “It’s not going to be enough.” But they didn’t hear me over the weapons’ fire.
Carollette rose from the porch floor and screamed, “Die!”
The ground rippled. The dead body of Ethel Myer rocked. Her body bent forward and she stood. Dead. Standing. She lurched off the porch.
FireWind shouted, “Retreat!” No one ran. He aimed his weapon. Rick and Occam aimed theirs. They fired at Carollette. But the ajasgili didn’t fall.
“PsyLED! Carollette Ames, stop your magic attack, now!” FireWind shouted.
Rick raced to the side. Trying for a better shot.
The ground shook.
Ethel’s dead body grabbed T. Laine into a hug, crushing her. T. Laine gagged and fought, thrusting her defensive magic agaisnt the dead body.
FireWind raced in and shoved Etain and Catriona toward the cars. “Run!” he screamed, and he leaped to the porch.
T. Laine moaned. A sound like death.
The tremor in the land went deep and wide. Trees shook. Windows in nearby houses popped and shattered. Margot raced toward the house, tripped, and fell. The porch where T. Laine, prisoned by the dead, stood, along with the ajasgili/necromancer and FireWind, juddered. One corner support dropped, crumbled. The porch cracked like a shotgun blast, the roof falling at an angle. Occam turned toward me, searching for me in the darkness.
I dropped the potted plant. Fell beside it. Shoved my hands into the soil spilled on the ground. Beneath the ground, the darkness roared and shimmered. Death and decay attacked. Everything, everyone began to die.
T. Laine was suffocating in the dead embrace. Her ribs popped. Her breath stopped.
Rick screamed, a cat scream in a human throat. Agony of death. Death and decay had touched him. He was dying.