Torment - Lauren Kate [129]
“Hmmm, let’s see.” With a fierce look in her eyes, she pointed the tip of her right wing at the ground below the Outcasts.
The lawn shuddered, and then a clean seam of earth—the length of the backyard and a few feet wide—split wide open.
Taking at least twenty Outcasts deep into the black chasm.
They bellowed hollow, lonely cries on the way down. Down to God-knew-where. The Outcasts behind them skidded, halting just in front of the awful gorge Gabbe had pulled from nowhere. Their heads moved from left to right as if to help their blind eyes make sense of what just happened. A few more Outcasts teetered on the edge and tumbled in. Their wails grew fainter—until no sound could be heard. An instant later, the earth creaked like a rusty hinge and closed back up.
Gabbe drew her downy wing back to her side with the utmost elegance. She wiped her brow. “Well, that should help.”
But then another bright shower of silver splinters rained from the sky. One of them thunked into the top step of the deck at Luce’s feet. Daniel yanked the arrow out of the wooden step, wound up his arm, and flung it sharply, like a lethal dart, straight into the forehead of an advancing Outcast.
There was a flash of light, like a camera flash, and then: The white-eyed boy didn’t even have time to cry out at the impact—he just vanished into thin air.
Daniel’s eyes raced over Luce’s body, and he patted her down, as if in disbelief that she was still alive.
At her side, Callie gulped. “Did he just—Did that guy really—”
“Yes,” Luce said.
“Don’t do this, Luce,” Daniel said. “Don’t make me drag you inside. I have to fight. You have to get away from here. Now.”
Luce had seen enough to agree. She turned back toward the house, reaching for Callie—but then, through the open doorway of the kitchen, she caught a brutal glimpse of Outcasts.
Three of them. Standing inside her house. Silver bows aimed to shoot.
“No!” Daniel bellowed, rushing to shield Luce.
Shelby lurched out of the kitchen and onto the deck, slamming the door behind her.
Three distinct thumps of arrows struck the other side of the door.
“Hey, she’s exonerated!” Cam called from the lawn, nodding at Shelby briefly before bashing an arrow into an Outcast girl’s skull.
“Okay, new plan,” Daniel muttered. “Find someplace to take cover somewhere nearby. All of you.” He addressed Callie and Shelby and, for the first time all night, Miles. He grabbed Luce by the arms. “Stay away from the starshots,” he pleaded. “Promise me.” He kissed her quickly, then shooed them all against the back wall of the deck.
The glow of so many angels’ wings was brilliant enough that Luce, Callie, Shelby, and Miles had to shade their eyes. They crouched down and crawled along the deck, shadows of the railing dancing before them, while Luce directed everyone to the side yard. To shelter. There had to be some, somewhere.
More Outcasts stepped out from the shadows. They appeared in the high branches of faraway trees, came ambling out from around the raised garden beds and the termite-eaten old swing set Luce had used as a kid. Their silver bows gleamed in the moonlight.
Cam was the only one on the other side with a bow. He never paused to count how many Outcasts he was picking off. He just loosed arrow after arrow with deadly precision into their hearts. But for each one that vanished, another seemed to appear.
When he ran out of arrows, he wrenched the wooden picnic table out of its decade-old rut in the ground and held it in front of him with one arm like a shield. Volley after volley of arrows bounced off the tabletop and fell to the ground at his feet. He just stooped, plucked, and fired; stooped, plucked, and fired.
The others had to get more creative.
Roland beat his golden wings with such force that the air around him sent the arrows back in the direction they had come from, taking out the unseeing Outcasts several at a time. Molly charged the line again and