Ross attached the Velcro end of the elastic bandage around Savannah's ribcage. The flow of blood didn't stop like he'd hoped it would. He looked away while she pulled her tank top back on. It still had the bullet hole and blood stains from the sniper rifle.

He gently took her hand and set it against the bandaged area. "Keep pressure here." 

For the first time, he saw genuine concern in her face. Uncertainty oozed from her. 

"We need to leave ... now." She tugged his arm.

He thought he heard a pop but could still move his right shoulder. Remember, she's a killer, not a beautiful young blonde. He had to keep telling himself. Each move he made might set her off.

"What exactly are we dealing with here?" Maybe he'd know which weapons to select if he knew the odds against them?

"Shhhh. Stop talking," she whispered. "I need to listen."

Savannah's angst ate into him. The army of termites started in his stomach and led up into his chest. You've done this before. Time to fight your way out—again.

Her eyes eclipsed into black moons and her nostrils flared.

This can't be a good sign.

"What is it?"

"She's here." Jagged nails bore into his skin as she pulled him outside.

"Take it easy. Remember, I'm human. Also ..." He couldn't help but notice her clothes. "... if you're gonna fight, you have to lose the skirt."

Savannah started to unbutton her black leather skirt.

"Wait." Ross grabbed her hands. "Stay here for one second." 

In the back of one of the firefighter's lockers, he found a pair of midnight-blue women's Nike leggings.

"Put these on." He tossed them. 

Savannah snatched them out of the air, took one look, and raised her eyebrows.

"Jesus. Just put them on." Ross folded his arms. It worked on his girls, so why not?

She scowled and pulled them on under her skirt. "We go up ... now."

Ross returned to her side. Savannah started to climb. In one quick jerk of the rung, she launched herself onto the roof.

"Wait up."  

She didn't stop or pay attention to him.

When he finally got to the roof he stopped to catch his breath. And as the great Danny Glover once said, "I'm too old for this shit." 

Savannah stood with her arms down to her sides, claws out, watching the western sky. He couldn't help but look at her perfect figure while the sun sank into the depths of the rolling coastal mountains. A full moon ignited the evening with a baneful glow cast across the horizon.

"I guess ... we should get ready." The bag of weapons sat against a venting pipe on the other side of the roof.

"It's too late." Savannah backed up to Ross's side. "She's already here. You'll be dead before you get to your weapons."

Ross didn't see anyone. Before he could get to his knees, Savannah grabbed him by the back of his belt and tossed him across the roof. Pain bolted through his knees and hips. When he stopped sliding he'd landed next to the weapons.

She nodded toward the row of guns on the ground. "Now get ready."

Ross raced to the line of weapons. He slapped a clip into the Uzi he'd used earlier and swung both over his neck and shoulders. Then he made sure to stack the clips close to him. Once he'd loaded both tactical rifles, he picked up the Desert Eagle semi-automatic pistols and shoved them into his shoulder holsters. In the bottom of the bag, he found night vision goggles. At least the dark wouldn't be a deterrent to their cause.

Savannah moved with the grace of a Puma, pacing the four corners of the building, crinkling her nose at whatever stench wafted about. Ross couldn't smell anything other than a cow pasture somewhere upwind from them.

Once she made her rounds, she came to his side. "We're surrounded."

Ross scoped out the countryside with the sniper rifle. The infrared picked up multiple images headed right for them.

"You mind if I call in some help?"

A slow growl rumbled in her throat. "Do what you must. But I doubt either of us will live through this. She has too many males."

"Can you give me a number?"

"She's in control of her males and mine. We're greatly outnumbered."

Ross pulled his phone from his back pocket and clicked Bossman.

This time Mike actually answered his own phone. "Go."

"Boss, this is Harris."

"What's your situation, Ross?"

"I need whatever resources you can send me to this location. We're surrounded by multiple Trills."

"We have you on satellite. Everyone's taxed right now. But I will see what I can do. Be careful, son."

"Thanks, Mike." Though he knew resources dwindled, he welcomed anything they could spare. Ross chucked the cell phone into the duffel bag. If I live through this, at least I'll know where that is. Locked, loaded, and ready to kick ass, he turned. Blood rushed from his face. A large jackhammer replaced his heart. For an instant, he had no idea what to do.

"Fuck me."

Trills lined three sides of the roof, more than he could count. In the middle of them stood a woman. An attractive voluptuous young woman with strands of crinkled dark-auburn hair in a tight ponytail.

Ross pulled the night vision goggles down and lifted the M4A1 carbine rifle. His thumb nudged the dial, setting the rifle to burst mode and activating the close-range laser sight. Each group of bullets would include four shots for each trigger pull. At least one tracer round would be deployed per burst.

Savannah's hand flew up behind her, stopping him in his tracks. Frozen for what seemed like an eternity, he watched the standoff between females.

The other stepped off the ledge onto the roof and marched toward Savannah like a runway model. Those fearsome razor-sharp claws extended like switch blades. She growled, revealing several rows of fangs. Where Savannah's eyes remained black, the other's eyes looked like white-hot embers. She wore a pair of tattered, blood covered jeans and plaid button up shirt over what looked like a training bra.

Ross thought Savannah had a height and arm's length advantage. The other one had longer nails and about twenty pounds more muscle. To his astonishment, the two females began to talk.

"What do they call you?" The redhead undid her pony and let her hair drop in perfect curled rows down to her hips.

"Savannah. You?"

"The humans at the hospital called me Maleia."

The one born in Dallas, Oregon. Ross couldn't believe his luck. "It's a small fucking world after all."

Savannah turned her head toward him. "I said ... quiet."

Ross took a second and peeked around at Maleia's deadly entourage. None of them moved or blinked like dick-less statues of David. All eyes had fixated on the girls.

"Now that I have your males, Savannah. What are we to do now?" Maleia placed one foot in front of the other as if to brace for impact.

Savannah growled and in an inhuman voice said, "We kill you and your boys."

"Shit." Ross took aim at the nearest Trill and squeezed the trigger. Non-tracer rounds dented the male Trill's skin and bounced off. Every other slug exploded, releasing Alexa's serum. The males began to drop dead. Ross aimed for their heads.

When the rifle ran out of bullets, he tossed it to the side and pulled up a submachine gun in each hand. He sprayed bullets at anything moving other than Savannah.

The females met in the middle of the roof. Savannah flipped over Maleia. Long gashes appeared down Maleia's back and soaked her shirt with blood. After Savannah landed, one of the males attacked.

Ross aimed and put a dosed bullet in his gut. When the Trill looked at his bleeding belly, Savannah's fist crushed his face into bone, blood, and brains.

An extra-large bald male launched over the two girls, his claws extended, aimed for Ross's chest. The second Uzi clicked empty. He dropped it to his side, pulled his Desert Eagle from the shoulder holster, and emptied the clip into the large male's chest. The loud blasts pushed the rest of the Trills back.

Gripped together like two professional wrestlers, the deadly battle between the girls unfolded in his peripheral vision. Savannah needed help. The males had stopped attacking him and began to flee from the building. Ross slapped a clip into one of the Uzi's and shot.

Bullets tore up Maleia's back but she continued to claw, bite, and kick Savannah.

Ross barely saw the streak of white flesh before it slammed into him. Trill arms wrapped him up. The two rolled to the edge of the roof. The Uzi's strap broke and the gun clinked to the ground between them and the girl's. A sharp pain shot through Ross's left shoulder. When the Trill pulled back, a chunk of Ross's left shoulder and shredded shirt dangled from his mouth.

His left arm wouldn't move and he didn't have any loaded weapons left near him. The Trill stood in triumph and swallowed the chunk of meat. Males began to repopulate the roof and surrounded Ross.

A bright light drew the creature's eyes to the south where a stealth helicopter hovered.

"Stay down Agent Harris. I got you," a voice came over a PA system.

"Savannah, get down!" He hoped she'd heard him.

An onslaught of heavy machinegun fire came from the helicopter. Thousands of tracer rounds pelted the males around him. The 50-caliber bullets ripped through them like they would anything at eighty meters.

Several rounds hit the Trill above him. Its head scattered in different directions. A downpour of blood and brains rained on top of him. He wiped chunks from his face and spit out a mouthful of blood.    

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