The Believers (The Breeders Series - Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

up half his upper lip. His pupils are cloudy, the whites are yellowed. And he smells like rotten meat. There’s definitely something wrong with him. With all of them.
    “Drop the gun, Bender.” Even his voice is thick, like his tongue is a dead thing in his mouth. He nods toward the gun. “We both know there's no lead in that shooter.” He takes a step forward, cloudy eyes searching my face. His big hands reach out, dirty fingers curling toward me. I don't move.
    “Do what he says,” Clay whispers in my ear. The pain in his voice cuts me to the core. He wants to protect me, but if I drop the gun, Tank-top man will kill Clay.
    He takes a step forward and now he's three feet away. My eyes lock on the sore on his lip, the raw rancid strawberry that mars his face. He smiles, puckers his mouth, and makes smoochy sounds. “You like what you see? I hear Benders got real soft skin.” He narrows his clouded eyes. “Guess I get to find out.”
    I smile in mock amusement. “Not today, you motherless bastard.” I pull the gun back like a tomahawk and whip it as hard as I can at his face.
    The gun smashes his nose. His giant hands snap over his bloody beak and he screams.
    “That'll be enough!” a male voice behind me shouts.
    I whip around. There, in the doorway of the diner, stand the other two men. The smaller of the two holds Ethan and Rayburn by their forearms. Their wrists are bound with rope. Rayburn has a giant welt on his forehead. Ethan looks okay. The other man has my pregnant mama pulled tight to his chest. Pressed up against her throat is a long, rusty blade. Her eyes go wide as the dull blade dimples her skin.
    “Stop!” I yell. Behind me, Clay clutches my arm as I lurch forward. “Please.” I use all my willpower to lower my voice. “You don't have to.”
    My attacker steps up, his hand holding his bruising cheek. He finds his sombrero, brushes the dirt off it, and fixes it back on his head. Coupled with the dusty goggles that magnify his eyes threefold, the hat makes him look ridiculous. I'd laugh if I weren’t so sure he was about to kill me. His gray eyes zero in on me for a moment.
    “We don't need all this violence,” he says. “Either you all come with us or we slice every male on the spot. We take her,” he nods to my mama, “and you, gut the others, and leave 'em for the dogs.”
    I start to speak, but Clay's hand cinches around my arm. “We go,” he says through gritted teeth. He wants to fight just as bad as I do. I know he's the rational one and I should listen, but to go with these cavemen? I shoot him a glance, but he's watching the leader with his penetrating gaze.
    My attacker nods and his man removes the knife edge from Mama's throat. She sags a little.
    Tank-top man limps over, holding his bleeding nose. He wrenches my hands together. Clay shouts in protest, but his hands are being bound by the other man. I hate the feel of twine on my wrists. I hate seeing Ethan's eyes as they lead him off.
    “Where are you taking us?” I ask and get a sharp push from behind. I stumble forward onto the road. A dusty white van is parked a ways back on the shoulder.
    Shoving my mother before him like a stubborn mule, my attacker looks at me with soulless eyes.
    “To the Citadel. The Messiah has been waiting for you.”

    CHAPTER FOUR
    They shove us in a large white van with worn tires and a few rusty side panels, but, surprisingly, it’s not as beat-up as every other vehicle on the road. In the back, the seats have been removed, leaving a large open swatch of scratchy black carpet. We're herded in, the back doors slamming behind us. I sit with my back to the van's side, Clay to my right and Ethan to my left. Rayburn and Mama are on the other side of the van, sitting cross-legged, bound hands on their laps.
    Mama looks up, anguish darkening her face. She’s thinking the same as me: we're prisoners, we're unarmed, and we’re helpless. This is how we end up dead. She offers me her reassuring