Or died.
She had no choice. Slowly but surely, she pushed the creature backwards, forcing it towards the edge of the building. The creature hit the ledge, and its arms flailed. It screamed, a sound so human, Nikki hesitated.
In that instant, the creature surged forward again—running straight for the shadows that held Jake. Nikki gasped and dropped to her knees. She couldn't do it again. She bit her lip and hugged her body tightly. She had to. This zombie had to die, or more people would. People like Jake, who'd done nothing to Jasper except be her friend.
She forced past the pain and grabbed the creature, thrusting it back to the edge. It struggled desperately, wrenching and twisting the invisible lines holding it captive. Pain rippled through every fiber, every cell. Nikki ignored it and tightened her hold, then thrust the creature past the edge. When it had cleared the concrete edge by several feet, she let go. The creature fell, screaming. She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth, desperately trying to catch her breath. She felt like she'd run a damn marathon—but it wasn't over yet. Two zombies still remained. Another gunshot shattered the night. Nikki licked her lips and climbed unsteadily to her feet. MacEwan appeared out of the shadows to her left, half carrying one of his men. A zombie followed them, dragging one leg more than usual.
She clenched her fist and threw a ball of power at the creature. It staggered under the impact and stopped, giving MacEwan the chance to escape immediate danger.
Then it turned. A roar of anger bit through the night. Giving the creature no chance to charge, she sent another whip of power towards it, knocking it sideways.
She reached again, but agony locked her mind tight. She fell to her knees, fighting tears, fighting the red tide threatening to engulf her. She'd done too much, pushed too hard. Now there was nothing left. Nothing but pain and approaching death.
I don't want to die.
Not that she could, unless someone broke her neck. And she had a bad feeling the zombie knew that. That Jasper knew that.
But there was nothing she could do except close her eyes and wait.
Chapter Eighteen
The footsteps stopped. An eerie silence followed.
Confused, Nikki opened her eyes and looked up. Pain shot through her head at that smallest of movements. She blinked back tears, unable to believe what she saw. The zombie lay on the concrete ten feet away, its neck twisted at an odd angle. What on earth ... ?
"Nikki?” The soft question flowed out of the night.
Michael. Her heart leaped, rushing heat through her body. She turned carefully, searching for him. Nothing but shadows filled the night.
"Are you all right?” Again his whisper cut through the night.
"Yes.” Why didn't he show himself? Was it MacEwan's nearby presence that stopped him? Fear pounded through her heart, and she reached out to the link, only to be stopped by a wall of pain.
"Take care then, little one.” His voice was distant.
He's leaving me. She squeezed her eyes shut, and tried to control the panic pounding at her pulse. This was for the best. It's what she wanted. But fingers of fear wrapped around her heart, squeezing it tight. Tears trickled past her closed eyelids. Maybe she was a fool for letting him go, but what choice did she really have? She'd always been cursed when it came to love. Jake had managed to survive its touch, but she didn't love him the way she had loved her parents and Tommy. And now Michael. She had to believe it was better that he left. It was the only way she could survive. Footsteps approached. She opened her eyes. MacEwan eyed the dead zombie warily, his gun at the ready. The look on his face would've made her laugh any other day.
"The creature near the door is also dead,” he said, nudging the zombie with the toe of his boot. “Care to explain how it happened?"
"One of those situations that can't be explained.” God, it hurt to think, hurt to move. But she had to do both. She couldn't stay here.
His gaze was disbelieving. Nikki ignored him. She didn't have the energy to even try to explain Michael's intervention.
After a moment, MacEwan shrugged and put his gun away. “Who am I to question deliverance? Need a hand up?"
She nodded. He clasped her arm and hauled her upright. Pain shot like fire through her brain, and she gasped, fighting the urge to be sick.
"You don't look so good.” MacEwan studied her with a frown. “Maybe you should go downstairs and let one of the doctors take a look at you."
She gingerly shook her head. The last thing she needed was to be prodded and poked. She was fine. Mostly.
"Then at least let me get someone to drive you home..." They both turned sharply at the sound of the exit door opening. More police officers. She sighed in relief.
"The cavalry, at last,” MacEwan commented dryly.
"Too late, as usual.” She rubbed at her temples. Would the pain ever go away? It was a white-hot fire, eating at her brain.
MacEwan gave her a wry look and waved his men over. “Would an earlier arrival have saved us? How many men does it take to kill a zombie?"