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a rush anyway.” Maisie nipped out a bit of metal. Amazing her shot had retained enough velocity to carry the zombie off his back if the bullet had begun to fragment. Odd, that. The bullets were designed to flatten and do more damage to flesh on entry. A 38 super could pierce armor, once upon a time. Werewolves must have tough hides...
    Luckily, it looked to be the only fragment. “Those idjits popped out and honed in on the Peter Pan statue as if it might save them all somehow.”
    Just to be safe, she prodded the area around the bullet hole a bit more. Perhaps it had something to do with her suppressor. It was homemade. Maybe the fragment came from that and not the bullet...
    “They did head out of the park at the end there.” Seth tilted his head toward her. His sudden close proximity surprised her and she fumbled a swab soaked in disinfectant. “I caught their trail leaving the park at the same place we crossed the street.”
    “I hope they have the sense not to try to double back.” She paused. Why had they been in the park in the first place? “You don’t think they were looting, do you? Seems even more daft than those idjits claiming they want to hunt zombies for trophies.”
    Seth grunted. “We’ve seen a few lone normals scavenging for trinkets and valuables. People like them wouldn’t stand a chance competing with the tougher scavengers looting during the day when it’s safer. Maybe the man got desperate and the rest of the family went with him to help. Maybe the woman pushed him into it. Dunno.”
    Maisie swallowed hard. She’d been near sick the first time she’d sifted through the bones and rags of the unlucky. But the dead wouldn’t need the firearms anymore and a person needed what defense they could find.
    Desperate times.
    She picked the swab back up and began to disinfect the area where she’d pulled the fragment out.
    “I’m sure they’ve learned better now.” Brian had a knack for sounding confident—able to bring a bit of peace, even when a body had no reason to believe him. “And they owe you their lives.”
    “I hope they take better care with them, then.”
    “Still, what you’re describing... Let’s hope the zombies aren’t evolving somehow,” Brian mused. Likely he would mull over the possibility for quite a while.
    She would too, in a “wake up in the middle of the night with cold sweats” sort of way.
    “I wish there were more reliable information sources for the current findings on the virus, how widespread it’s become, what progress there is to find a cure,” Brian continued, more thinking out loud than to her or Seth. “Additional studies on why the lycanthropes, including the werewolves, are immune would be helpful too. Perhaps an antibody serum could be found.”
    Seth, for his part, had fallen silent.
    Considering the tension still in the muscles under her fingertips, whatever he was thinking didn’t consist of happy thoughts.
    Well her mind wasn’t trending toward happy, so much as naughty. And that would not do, not at all.
    Even as she admitted her thoughts, she realized Seth was watching her. Her cheeks grew warm and she addressed her attention to his front, trying not to spread her palms flat across his wonderfully broad chest. Running her hands over his tight abs and torso would get her into all sorts of trouble...
    Nope.
    She needed to focus on the hole she’d put in the man.
    “Still, Maisie. You’ve heard the morning broadcasts. They say the parks and gardens are the worst place to be.” Returning to his lecture, Brian let the evolution of zombies rest. “And off you go, into Kensington Gardens and only one crutch with you.”
    “Only one.” Seth made the statement without directing it at either her or Brian.
    Brian apparently decided to answer for her though. “She has two and can move faster with them.”
    “And have both my hands tied up? No thank you. I’d prefer to have one hand free for a gun, if necessary.”
    “You need two to