novelraw Chapter 370: Music Only She Could Hear
Chapter 370: Music Only She Could Hear
Alexei had to give them credit. They really did try their hardest to kill Sera.
He picked off as many as he could. Lachlan shielded Sera with his body once, taking a graze to his side, but even that wasn’t enough to slow him down.
Elias lifted his rifle with one hand and shot the man who had almost hit her.
Zubair looked at the new wave and set his jaw. He pressed his wounded arm to his side and lifted his good hand.
"Fall to me," he said.
Fire rolled out again.
This time he sent it under the nearest truck and up into the bed. The fuel caught. Four men jumped out, burning. They ran into their own line and spread panic. Men ducked. Some fired by accident. That gave the five of them a gap.
"Push!" Zubair shouted.
Alexei moved up beside Sera. Lachlan took the other side. Elias stayed a step back. They advanced together.
Rourke was still alive. His chest plate was scorched and he had taken a few bullets. But even then, he had simply fallen behind his men while he recovered.
Now he saw them pushing and understood that if they broke the front, the rest of his formation would lose order. He lifted his pistol again and aimed at Sera.
Alexei saw that. He fired at Rourke.
A Saint Eater stepped in front of him at the last second and took the bullet. Rourke fired.
The round went for Sera’s head.
Lachlan shoved her to the side, causing the round cut through her hair instead of her skull. Sera turned toward Rourke. Her expression did not change. She started walking toward him through the smoke and the bodies.
More men poured in from the back, shouting.
The five of them were still on their feet.
Alexei reloaded. The magazine clicked in. He raised his rifle again.
The next truck broke through the smoke and came straight at them.
Its grille was dented, windshield already cracked from earlier fire, but the engine was working, and that would be enough to screw them over.
Men in the back were standing, braced against the metal railings, their rifles up and trained on Alexei, Sera and the others. The newcomers fired as they came. Bullets hit the pavement and sent chips of stone up around Alexei’s boots.
He aimed at the driver and fired.
The round went through the glass and into the man’s face. The truck did not stop right away. It kept rolling for several meters, then swerved. Alexei stepped aside. The truck scraped the wall of the diner, broke a window, and stopped.
The men in the back jumped out and rushed them.
"More incoming," Alexei said through gritted teeth.
"I see them," Zubair answered.
His voice was tight. It was clear that he was getting tired. Fire still ran over his good arm, but it was thinner now. The wound in his other arm had bled through his clothes and it wasn’t healing nearly as fast as it had before.
But that wasn’t about to stop him. He kept moving anyway.
Sera was already in the path of the new men.
One swung a rifle like a club. She caught it, pulled him forward, and slammed his head into the side of the truck. Bone cracked and she turned hitting the second man in the throat.
He dropped hard as the third one tried to shoot her point blank.
She grabbed the barrel, forced it up, and tore the gun out of his hands. She threw it aside without using it.
"Stop shooting her!" one of the Saint Eaters yelled. "It doesn’t work!"
They heard him. Some of them stopped wasting rounds on Sera and went for the men instead.
But that call only made things worse.
Bullets struck Lachlan in the ribs and thigh. He staggered, then straightened.
The skin under his shirt mended. Electricity flashed over him like a short. He bared his teeth and went back in.
Elias took another round in the hip. He dropped to one knee, hand on the wound.
In seconds, the flesh closed under his palm. He had blood on his face now from a graze on his temple. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and kept his rifle up.
Alexei shot three more men in fast succession. Then two more ran out from behind a parked bike. He dropped one. The other dove behind a truck and stayed down.
He checked his magazine. Only a few rounds left.
He looked past the front line.
There were still more trucks coming.
The far end of the town was full of engine lights and moving shapes. Men were spreading out on foot now because the burning vehicles had blocked the road. They were coming through buildings, alleys, between rail cars, over fences.
And they were not stopping.
"This is the main push," Alexei said.
"No," Zubair said. "This is them testing us."
Psycho agreed in his head. They think we will get tired. They don’t understand what they are facing. But they will learn. Hopefully.
Alexei could only snort at Psycho’s words
While the men might not get tired, the bullets in their guns would eventually run out.
A Saint Eater on the roof of the post office aimed down at Elias. Alexei fired and hit him in the shoulder. The man fell off the roof and landed hard. He didn’t get back up.
"Thanks," Elias said.
"Watch the right," Alexei said.
He moved toward the open side of the street again.
Ice spread under him. It coated the broken pavement and the metal of a fallen bike. A man running toward him slipped and fell. Alexei shot him while he was still on the ground.
His rifle clicked empty.
He lowered it, slung it over his shoulder, and pulled his sidearm. He did it without hurry, but he knew that once this magazine was gone, he would be out.
Lachlan looked over. "Running low?"
"Yes."
"Same."
Elias said, "I have two more. After that, I’m on knife."
Zubair didn’t answer. He was focused on the fire. He threw another line of it at a group trying to climb over a truck. The fire hit them and drove them back. He breathed harder afterward.
On the other hand...Sera did not slow down at all.
She grabbed one man by the back of the neck and dragged him forward to use as a shield when the men behind him fired.
The bullets hit him instead of her.
She threw his body at them and reached the line. She broke arms, crushed throats, tore open chests.
She moved like this was all a danse, and she was the only one who could hear the music.
Like a ballerina, every last one of her movements were straight and efficient, leaving a wake of dead bodies behind her.