Page 43 of Sleep With Us

“I’m fine,” he croaked. He tore off his mask, revealing a split in his lip. “Fuck, I forgot how hard he hits. You alright?”

I ruffled glass from my hair. “Yeah, I think.”

But the computer lay on the floor, in pieces.

“Did you get the lock?” Zee asked.

“No.”

“Fuck.”

The masher machine’s hammering was louder now the windows had gone. Red light washed over us in waves. Alarms wailed. This could have gone better. I got to my feet and helped brush glass off Zee’s clothes. “Have you seen Reynard?”

“Oh yeah, he’s out cold on the conveyor belt. I probably should have told him the general hits like a semi.”

“The conveyor? What?”

“Pfft, he’s fine.”

“Fine?” I hurried to the broken windows and saw the general sneering up at us.

“Put you in pies!” Copernicus boomed.

“We got bigger problems.” Zee clutched the window frame. “How to unlock those cages. Find a way, Adam. And do it fast.” He vaulted over the sill and plunged toward the general. At the last second, Copernicus raised an iron bar and swung it like a bat. Zee thrust out his wings, parachuting his descent, avoiding the swing at the last moment. He landed, and spin kicked, knocking the general back a mere single step.

Oh, this definitely was not going well.

I caught sight of a large, dark lump rumbling along the conveyor, in with the chunks of meat.

Reynard. He still had his mask on, and wasn’t moving. The general had knocked him out cold, just like Zee had said. But further along the belt, where Reynard was headed, the enormous masher plate slammed down every five seconds. At the speed the conveyor moved, he’d be crushed into tiny vampire mush within minutes.

“Victor!” I yelled. The alarms blared, swallowing my shout.

I had to get down there.

I hammered down the metal stairs and sprinted across the factory floor.

A fist flew at me. I didn’t see it until it was too late. Didn’t feel it either, until my body slammed into something unforgiving, and I crumpled to my knees, stunned, ears ringing.

“Adam!” I heard Zee, but he sounded so far away.

Reynard was in trouble.

I had to get to him.

“Save him,” I muttered.

Wobbling back to my feet, I clung to the bent safety rail I’d been flung into, and staggered toward the conveyor belt. To my right, the giant masher thumped, mincing the pie filling. And a bit further on, lay Reynard.

“You hurt my Adam, you fuckin’ die!” Zee roared.

I glanced over my shoulder. Zee stood in all his glory, wings flared. His yellow Fun-damental Rights top had gained a few new stains. His tail thrashed. He brandished an iron pole he must have torn from a machine.

The general had a bar too.

They roared and clashed—metal ringing, wings flapping, nails clawing. So much noise and motion. My head throbbed, vision swimming. The masher boomed, over and over, thumping so hard it made my heart jump too.

I wasn’t going to make it.