Carissa cursed more profusely than she’d ever dared as she sprinted downstream. “Go back! Go back to camp!”
A woman was kneeling by the river, her child tugging at her skirts. She glanced up just as an arrow pierced her head.
Carissa steps faltered as blood streamed onto the woman’s face. “No!”
The rest of the people exploded in a panicked flurry, leaving behind baskets of clothes and pots and pans. Several more crumpled to the ground, arrow heads buried in their spines, their legs, their heads.
A fury tore through Carissa, unlike any she’d ever known before. A Reaper crossed the stream, and Carissa lunged for him. The dagger slid in and out of his chest with ease. She stabbed him once more in the head, to ensure he wouldn’t be revived any time soon.
Another Reaper lunged forward, swinging his Scythe down. She caught it against her dagger. The other Reapers surged past her, and she was helpless to stop them.