Read Midnight for Free Online Page A

trade for a few things and move on.”
    “You’re mistaken if you think you’re in charge here.”
    “No mistake, Jefa . You are.”
    He could see her mind working, testing his words for the sarcasm or disrespect she wouldn’t find. Chew on that one, boss lady. Frustration replaced anger on her face, and she readjusted her grip—practically fidgeting from someone so cool and calm.
    “You have some nerve, pendejo .”
    “I thought a woman like you would appreciate candor.”
    She scowled. “A woman like me?”
    Chris spread his hands, palms up, submissive. But he didn’t feel that way. He was charged up. Sparring with Rosa felt . . . vital . A reason to wake up in the morning—and that was something he hadn’t known in a long time.
    “Your decisions affect everyone in town. I don’t intend to make that job any harder.”
    “Jefa!” came Brick’s voice. Then a tolling bell rang out.
    “An alarm?” Chris asked.
    Rosa hesitated. In one quick sweep, her gaze crossed from Chris to the door above. “We call them hellhounds. Dios , we haven’t seen them in six months at least. I don’t know exactly what they are.”
    I know what they used to be. The hellhounds had once been human beings, driven to shift into monsters by the magic of the Change. But worse than that, they’d once been people of a criminal mindset—humanity’s worst given a feral form to match their bestial natures.
    But she might not be ready to hear that, and maybe it was better if she didn’t know. God knew he wished he didn’t.
    “Let me fight. If I turn on you, plug me with that cannon you’re holding. I’ll deserve it. But that’s not going to happen.”
    She didn’t respond, simply spun toward the promise of battle. Seconds later she was up the ladder and gone. Chris snuffed the candle and scrambled up the ropes. He took her silence as acceptance.
    Goddamn dogs.
    Adrenaline boiled in his veins, and his muscles prepared for a fight.
    Outside the cellar, Chris witnessed a miracle of defensive organization. People holding shotguns and pistols ringed each building, six meters between each primed body—no more, no less. From teenagers to old men, they stood stone-faced like sentinels. Determination outweighed even the most obvious expressions of fear.
    “Hold your positions!” Rosa commanded.
    She strode down the middle of the dusty street, her body swathed in twilight. A sniper rifle she hadn’t been wearing in the basement hung between her shoulder blades. Chris fell into step behind her. If she didn’t like it, she could shoot him. But the sight of her alone on that deserted street set him off.
    “Team One, report,” she called.
    “No hellhounds,” came a shout from the southernmost building.
    “Team Two.”
    The call-and-response continued as she traversed the town. Chris eyed every shadow as if it might spring to life. Not too far from the truth. With every negative call-and-response, the tense muscles of his neck and upper back eased.
    But at the pop-pop sound of small-caliber shots, he sprang into a full run.
    “Hold positions!” Rosa shouted to the others. “Hold until the all-clear!”
    Chris rounded the corner of what looked like an old-time tavern, something out of a John Wayne movie. He snagged a handmade broom and snapped off the bristles. The stout handle would make a passable weapon. Nobody was paying him any attention.
    A trio of two men and a woman ringed the rear of the building, still in formation. An injured monster writhed in the dirt some two hundred meters away. By its side, another two lay dead.
    Rosa strode to the fore, her weapon leveled. Chris grabbed her arm. She looked ready to spit, but he held fast. “Don’t move,” he whispered. “Only three out there.”
    “What—?”
    “They hunt in pairs.” He scanned the area, senses screaming.
    “They’re animals,” she hissed.
    “And animals follow set behaviors. Cougars hunt on their own, lions in packs. With these . . . hellhounds, it’s