The Doomer took one step toward her, then another. But his legs gave out on the third, and he collapsed to his knees. He tried to speak, but only blood came out of his mouth, and he pitched forward.
Lokan wasn't taking any chances. He confirmed the kill with a close-range burst into the Doomer's head. There was no regenerating from that.
"I don't think he has any plans of waking up," Carol noted dryly as she rushed to Lokan's side, her hands gentle, checking his injuries. "What's broken?"
"A couple of ribs, but I'll heal." He clasped her fingers. "We need to move, my love. His partner might have dealt with our friends."
As if summoned by his words, motorcycle engines roared in the distance, growing closer. Lokan tensed, ready for another fight.
"It's them," Carol said. "It's our guys."
The two motorcycles carrying Grant, Camden, and Dougal roared toward them, coming to a stop a few feet away.
Camden whistled low at the sight of the dead Doomer.
"Enhanced?" Grant asked.
"Very," Lokan confirmed. "Resistant to mental manipulation and with enhanced strength and speed."
"Ours wasn't," Camden said. "Standard Doomer, went down with conventional tactics. Seems they're mixing teams."
"We need to move," Grant said. "That gunfire will have attracted attention, and where there are two, there might be more."
Lokan retrieved his blade, wiping it clean on the Doomer's clothes before returning it to his boot.
As they prepared to leave, Lokan took one last look at the corpse. The face, even in death, showed signs of madness—the price of Navuh's enhancement program.
"What is he thinking, creating these abominations?" he murmured.
Dougal snorted. "As if the unenhanced ones are not freaks. They are all monsters."
Not all of them, but Lokan was in no state to argue with the Guardian. He was about to ride for hours with broken ribs.
As they mounted up and continued toward the pass, leaving the canyon and its grim contents behind, Lokan couldn't shake the image of those mad eyes.
