Light (Gone, #6)

by Michael Grant

THE FIGHT LASTED six seconds. In that time Brianna rushed, swung her machete, and missed. Gaia swung a fist as powerful as Jack’s and caught just a corner of Brianna’s shoulder, spinning Brianna away to sprawl on the concrete. Brianna was up in a flash, snapped her shotgun up, fired, and hit Gaia in the chest with a load of buckshot that knocked Gaia staggering back with seven small holes in her. Brianna rushed, yelling, “Die!” stuck her shotgun into the stunned Gaia’s mouth, and pulled the trigger. And there was no explosion. Dud shell. Brianna’s one good eye widened and Gaia’s hand was on her neck. Impossible to get away. Brianna swung her machete, but the angle was all wrong, so she caught Gaia’s neck, too low and too weak. Blood was everywhere. But Brianna’s head was woozy. The weakness was spreading through her. She struck again, and Gaia easily blocked this blow, ripped Brianna’s machete from her hand, and threw it aside. Gaia’s face, those cold blue eyes, were all Brianna could see. But she felt Gaia’s hand pressing palm-out against her heart and knew . . .

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