A sound they had become used to and gone numb to. The wet, ripping noise that came right before something burst. It wasn't a scream anymore. It wasn't surprise.
Wet chunks flew toward where she stood. Hot. Heavy. The kind of meat that used to be something with bones and purpose. She ducked behind Deena. Instinct. Not trust.
Deena stumbled from the impact, half her body sprayed with blood. Not her blood. That made it worse somehow. The kind of red that wasn't hers still clung to her skin like blame.
Deena's legs gave for half a second. Her good hand shot out to catch herself on a rock. The rock was slick. Cold. It bit into her palm but she didn't care. Blood from the infernal ran down her face, into her mouth. She spat it out, cursing under her breath. The curse was short. Practiced. Half her body was painted red. She looked like she'd been dipped in it, pulled out and left to dry, but the dripping hadn't stopped yet.
