CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
I’m about to die, Peter thought, surprised to find a cool sense of calm wash over him as he prepared to be killed.
Rather than dying, however, he watched as Angie stepped in between him and Garrou, blasting into the beast’s legs and ripping open his shins. Her action snapped Peter’s attention back to his uninterrupted life, and he cleared the gun jam with a swipe of his finger. He joined Angie in the barrage aimed at Garrou’s vulnerable extremities, who recoiled in pain from every blast, his flailing arms looking as much to keep himself from falling as they were deliberate attacks.
Garrou’s entire body was shaking after they’d emptied both their weapons into him, Angie dropping her shotgun to the floor. As she did, Peter watched Garrou leap up into the hole he’d ripp
