The helicopter wreckage was still burning in the distance, black smoke twisting up into the gray sky. The wind across the rooftop carried the smell of charred metal and blood, and the cold cut straight through.
Nemesis stepped out of the shadows. Massive. Covered in wounds that hadn't healed. The muscle on its left shoulder had peeled back and was rotting, black blood dripping steadily from the edge. A deep gouge split its chest where the bullet had gone in back at the apartment, close enough to bone that it should have killed something else. Half its face was burned black. Its movements were stiff from the damage, but none of that had touched the violence in it. No posturing, no hesitation. Just those red eyes, fixed on Ryan.
"Focus fire on the old wounds!" Jill's shotgun roared, pellets hammering the ruined left shoulder. Black blood sprayed. Brad pulled his trigger with shaking hands, the shot grazing the monster's side, barely slowing it.
Nemesis surged forward.
It crossed the rooftop like something that had been aimed rather than moving on its own, legs cracking the concrete, right arm sweeping wide. The air shrieked. The railing exploded into fragments that scattered like shrapnel.
Ryan dropped low and threw himself sideways. The fist came down where he'd been standing and punched a crater into the roof. He hit the ground on one knee, raised the Desert Eagle, and put three rounds directly into the chest wound.
Nemesis howled. The wound split wide open, black blood pouring out. It didn't stop. Both fists came down in a hammering frenzy, each impact cracking the concrete further, fractures spreading outward in every direction, dust and debris blasting up with every hit. Jill kept firing. Brad managed to keep pace. The rounds landed, made the thing flinch, bought seconds.
It ignored them both completely.
Nemesis grabbed a broken slab of concrete off the roof surface, hoisted it one-handed, and hurled it at Ryan. He rolled clear. The slab exploded against the ground behind him.
Before he could get up, it was already on top of him, one massive hand reaching for his throat. The claws caught the light. Jill fired into the back of its skull in rapid succession and its head jerked sideways from the impact. Ryan ducked under the grab, drove his elbow hard into the unhealed wound, and shoved the Desert Eagle's barrel directly into the center of it before pulling the trigger.
Nemesis shuddered. Its arm swung in a wild backhand and the edge of the blow caught Ryan, launching him across the roof. He hit the broken wall hard, the impact knocking the air out of him. He fired again the moment he had a line, the round finding the wound a second time.
It staggered. Whatever was left of its self-control gave out entirely.
Nemesis dropped into a crouch, grabbed the metal framework bolted to the roof's edge, and tore the whole section free. It swung the steel like a bat. Jill and Brad scattered, too far back to get a shot in.
Ryan ran toward it.
The steel frame came around in a wide arc. He launched himself off a chunk of broken concrete, got airborne, and put three shots into the old bullet scar on its head at the top of the swing.
Nemesis threw its head back, movement stuttering.
Ryan landed and rolled to its flank, pressed the barrel against the wound in its back, and emptied more rounds into it.
Nemesis spun and swatted backward. Ryan ducked. The hand cratered the concrete where his head had been.
He looked at the hole and thought, Getting hit by that would be a real bad time.
It followed up with a stomp. He rolled aside and the roof caved in where its foot landed.
Jill charged in from the side, got close enough to press the shotgun almost against it, and fired. Nemesis turned and grabbed at her. She barely got back in time, and after that there was no getting close again. Brad fired from across the rooftop, rounds landing but doing little.
Nemesis was soaked in its own black blood. It lowered its head, coiled its whole body, and sprinted straight at Ryan.
Ryan didn't move.
At the last possible moment he dropped low, slipping under its arm and through the gap beside its body. He jammed the Desert Eagle into the deepest part of the chest wound and fired.
The shot punched through muscle and hit bone. Nemesis screamed, lost control of its body, and plowed into the wall. The whole building shook. The wall came down on top of it, burying it to the waist in rubble.
The rubble exploded outward a second later.
It dragged itself free, bleeding from everything, and it was worse now. Arms swinging, clearing whatever was in reach. What was left of the rooftop came apart under the assault, railing gone, surface cracked and cratered in every direction.
Jill and Brad were backed into a corner, no angle to work from.
Ryan kept moving. He threaded through the swings, each dodge precise and tight, and every shot went into an open wound. The rounds kept tearing through damaged tissue, kept ripping the injuries wider. Black blood went everywhere.
Nemesis slowed. Its roaring dropped in volume. The enormous body had started to sway.
One hand reached out, fingers spreading toward Ryan.
He stepped in close, turned so the claws passed by his side, pressed his left hand against the torn shoulder wound to brace it, and pushed the Desert Eagle into the bullet scar on its skull.
He pulled the trigger.
The shot rang out across the whole rooftop.
Nemesis went rigid. Held that way for a few seconds, swaying. Then it fell, the full weight of it hitting the concrete and sending a shockwave through the air, dust rolling out in every direction.
The rooftop was gone. Railing destroyed, ground riddled with craters and cracks, spent casings everywhere, black blood soaking into the rubble. Smoke drifted without going anywhere.
Brad collapsed where he stood, drenched in sweat, breathing in loud ragged gulps. All the tension had gone out of him at once.
Jill leaned against what was left of a wall, gun lowering, the coil in her going slack by degrees.
Ryan hadn't moved.
His breathing was uneven, but the Desert Eagle stayed up, trained on the body. He watched it. The chest, the hands, any twitch in the ruined muscle.
He knew what these things could survive.
Until the last movement stopped, until the heart had nothing left, it wasn't over.
Wind moved through the smoke. Dust settled, slow and quiet.