Book Seven: Chapter 230

“Imua!” the newcomers shouted in return.

“Imua e nā pokiʻi a inu I ka wai ʻawaʻawa aʻohe hope e hoʻi mai ai!” The big man raised his bat and brought it down on another skeleton. “This is our island! We will defend it!”

Cheers rang out from the crowd and they surged forward. Ingrid watched in astonishment as the islanders started driving back the hordes.

“Damn,” Wallace muttered at her side. “I’ve got fucking chills.”

“Me too,” she replied, then unholstered her wand. “I bet that big guy takes out more of them than you do.”

“Now we’re talking.” Wallace whooped in delight and charged into the fray. Ingrid followed him, a pistol in one hand and her wand in the other.

I just hope we make it, she thought as she ran toward certain death. Beneath her feet, the whole island rumbled and the skies above darkened. Because it sure feels like the end of the world.

***

The Caretaker stood on the edge of a cliff, his gaze on the v