Chapter 54: Suck it out?

The noise was exactly like someone raking long, sharp nails across a blackboard. It crawled over the scalp.

One scrape after another, rapid and cold.

Ray sat up in an instant. Every trace of softness vanished from his eyes.

He shoved May into the corner and flipped the combat knife from his belt into his hand.

"Stay down. Not a sound."

Crack—

A sharp snap. The already battered iron door was ripped open down the middle by a single pale claw. The nails were jet black, the joints twisted.

A skin-walker.

May shrank into the corner, heart climbing into her throat.

How many more of these things were there?

Ray didn’t wait for it to finish squeezing through. He kicked the doorframe hard, used the force to launch himself, and drove the combat knife straight down into the claw.

Pfft.

Black blood sprayed. The skin-walker let out an ugly, piercing shriek.

But the creature was fast. Even wounded, its body poured through the gap like a snake, jaws gaping wide as it lunged for Ray’s throat.

He twisted aside. His injured right leg dragged across the floor and nearly dropped him to one knee.

"Ray!" May cried out. "Watch yourself!"

Ray roared, braced one hand on the ground, and reversed the knife in the other, driving it upward under the skin-walker’s chin.

The sound of the blade parting flesh was sickening.

One down.

May had barely begun to breathe again when another head poked through the gap.

Not just a head—half a torso followed right behind it.

There were two of them.

Ray’s face went iron-hard. Blood loss from his thigh was already making his head swim. The second skin-walker gave him no time to recover. It dropped to all fours and scuttled across the floor like a giant gecko.

It ignored Ray completely, circling past him and launching straight at May in the corner.

"Shit!" May cursed. There was nowhere left to dodge.

Ray’s eyes went blood-red. He exploded upward from the floor, seized the creature by a hind leg, and yanked it backward a full meter by sheer force.

The skin-walker stumbled, twisted around, and sank its teeth into his arm.

He refused to let go. The combat knife in his free hand stabbed toward its skull.

The beast was too agile. It jerked its head aside and slipped the killing blow.

Its claw, riding the same motion, lashed forward in a vicious swipe.

Rip—

May felt a rush of cold air across her chest, followed by a searing burn.

Ray bellowed. Strength from nowhere flooded him. He slammed the skin-walker to the ground and drove the combat knife into the crown of its head in a frenzy.

One. Two. Three.

Only when the skull was reduced to pulp did he stop.

Beep— A system notification sounded, but May paid it no attention.

She clutched her chest, breathing hard.

The skin-walker’s claw had torn a small gash in her black T-shirt—not large, but right over her chest.

On the snow-white skin, the edges of the wound already showed an unnatural purplish-black.

Ray flung the knife aside, crossed the short distance in two strides, and dropped to his knees in front of her.

"May! Let me see!"

His voice shook beyond recognition. His rough hand reached for the wound, then froze in mid-air, trembling, afraid to touch.

May hissed through the pain, tears already welling. "Ray... it hurts so much..."

Ray stared at the three purplish-black claw marks on her chest. Every trace of color drained from his face.

Years of killing zombies outside had taught him exactly what that color meant.

Skin-walker claws carried venom. If the poison wasn’t cleaned out completely, it would rot through the heart and vessels in less than half an hour.

He jerked his head up, glanced at the ruined iron door, then back at May’s face, which was growing paler by the second.

"May." His voice was low, as if holding something back that threatened to break free. "Hold on."

His fingers hovered, trembling, just above the purplish-black marks on her chest and refused to come down.

"Ray..." May sucked in a sharp breath from the pain. The corners of her eyes were red, tears streaming. "Am I going to die?"

"Don’t even think it. As long as I’m here, you’re not dying. Zombies don’t turn people—they just infect the wound."

Ray had never studied medicine. When he got cut, he usually just let Theo stitch him up. Now Theo wasn’t here, and black blood was seeping from the wound. Panic clawed at his chest.

The communicator was dead. The cave-in outside had sealed them in tight. No one above would hear a thing, no matter how hard they called.

The sealed chamber fell silent except for the uneven sound of two people breathing.

May leaned against the wall and looked down at her chest. The wound stood out starkly against the snow-white skin.

Ray crouched in front of her. Two fingers held open the torn collar of her T-shirt. He stared at the marks for a full ten seconds without saying a word.

"Ray..."

"Shut up."

His gaze was locked on those three claw marks—the placement was too damn precise.

Right over the left side of her chest, three inches below the collar.

The tear in the T-shirt wasn’t large, but it sat at an awkward height. To treat the wound properly, that scrap of fabric would have to be pulled completely aside.

Ray’s Adam’s apple bobbed twice. His fingers pinched the frayed edge of the cloth and still refused to move.

"Ray?"

May tilted her head to look at him. In the faint light filtering in from outside, she saw the man who could kill zombies without blinking—ears so red they looked ready to drip blood.

"The venom isn’t strong, but it has to come out."

He ground the words out between his back teeth. "The cuts aren’t deep. Suck the poisoned blood out and you’ll be fine."

May blinked. The implication finally clicked.

Suck it out?