Free DEAD (Book 12): End by TW Brown Page B

fight.
    “Melvin!” she hissed as the massive form lumbered past.
    The mountain of flesh stopped and instantly dropped to one knee and then rolled to his right with an agility that Catie still found incredible. The man came up with the building she was using as cover shading him from any arrows that might make it this far.
    “You’re hit,” she gasped. She had just the one arrow sticking out of her calf; Melvin had at least four arrows that she could see. They were poking up from various locations, but the one she could not tear her eyes from was the one sticking out from almost the center of his chest.
    The man glanced down at himself and scowled. With what looked more like annoyance than anything else, he slapped away the most critical looking of the shafts. When he did, Catie saw what looked like a bladder of some sort under his clothing.
    He looked up, catching her puzzled expression. Pulling open his vest, he revealed a large square that looked like it was perhaps some sort of reptile skin.
    “This is one of Marty’s little contraptions.” He pulled it away from his body and Catie saw something spill from it. “Sand,” the twin chuckled as it poured from the hole made by the arrow that was now at his feet.
    “Very clever,” she said with an appreciative nod. “And where is the gigantic genius?”
    “I couldn’t say. When DeCarlo went batshit crazy and the arrows started to fly, I think everybody just hauled ass. I’m sure he will turn up somewhere.” The man knelt beside her and took a look at the arrow sticking from her calf. He gave a sympathetic whistle. “That looks like it hurts.”
    Catie’s eyes scanned Melvin. While it was true that the most critical of the arrows had been absorbed by the apocalyptic version of a flak jacket, the other three arrows jutting from the man’s body were accompanied by dark patches that had to be blood.
    “You can’t be feeling all that great yourself.” She gave a nod to his injuries. Melvin glanced at himself, his eyes not giving away anything that would indicate he felt the pain of the damage inflicted.
    Just then, two more members of their diplomatic party slid around the corner. Neither of them showed any sign of being hit. They looked at Catie and Melvin and one of them paled visibly.
    “What the hell happened?” one of the young men asked.
    “Apparently Miss DeCarlo had a grudge against Dean Stockton and chose the worst time possible to act on it,” Melvin mumbled as he knelt down and inspected Catie’s leg a bit closer. “But I bet that guy wishes he’d been the one to go nuts.”
    Catie turned to see who the big man was talking about and felt a searing blast of pain in her leg. She verged on the brink of unconsciousness, and the overwhelming desire to throw up, but she managed to keep both events at bay. As soon as she regained some sense of control, she focused her glare on Melvin who was ripping a piece from one of his multiple shirts and began wrapping it around the wound, pulling it tight just in time to send another wave of pain rolling through her.
    “What the hell!” she finally blurted when she felt confident that she could open her mouth and not have her stomach turn itself out on the spot.
    “I figured distraction was the best possible way to deal with this.” The big man gave a slight shrug and presented her with the bloody arrow. “You wanna keep this as a memento?”
    Her narrowed eyes were all the answer she needed to actually offer to make her feelings clear. She was still getting her breathing under control when Louis arrived.
    “What the hell happened?” he panted, obviously winded from running the entire way. “Did they figure out your silly trick?”
    “Actually, it seems that they bought it,” Melvin answered before Catie spoke.
    “Where is your gear?” Catie managed as she was helped to her feet.
    She was referring to the shoulder mounted device they had slapped together. It allowed the person wearing the