Cold-Blooded Kin: An apocalyptic horror novel (Dying Breed Book 2)

by Jacob Rayne

  The gun blast roared, echoing madly in the darkness. The muzzle flash lit up a despicable creature, more reptile than man, although some traces of humanity remained in its appearance.

  Benson had time to squeeze off a shot before it rushed them.

  Russell went first, his throat slit open by razor sharp claws.

  Benson tried to punch, but the creature gripped his forearm and snapped it like a twig. His scream ricocheted off the cold stone walls and back to him.

  It was the last thing he remembered before the strong hands tore out his throat in a hot torrent of blood.

  Hennessee jolted when he heard the gunshot.

  He squinted into the hole just as he heard a second shot and an awful scream. After that, everything seemed to happen too fast to control. He fired into the darkness, as did Reynolds. They heard some of the shells hit, heard others shatter stones in the tunnel walls.

  When the white noise of the gunshots faded, they heard its low breathing.

  ‘It’s still there,’ Hennessee said, pointing down into the hole.

  Reynolds looked at him as if to say, I ain’t going down there while that fucking thing’s there.

  Hennessee gave him an angry look then reloaded his gun and climbed in himself.

  Hennessee could see no sign of the hideous creature. He didn’t fancy being trapped underground with it in these confined quarters, but he had a quick look around and couldn’t see it.

  He saw Benson and Russell’s terrified, blood-covered corpses, although he did his best not to acknowledge them. He knew they’d return to him in his nightmares.

  Deciding that the monster had gone away for now, he crawled out. He felt a little ashamed that he was so relieved to be out of the tunnel, which was claustrophobia incarnate.

  ‘Nothing,’ he told Reynolds. ‘He’s fucked off.’

  Hennessee had dismissed the scraping noises he’d heard coming from the hole, but he looked down and saw the back of the mutant’s head. He was momentarily stunned; where the hell had it been hiding so close without being seen? Then he fired into the hole in the ground.

  Blood burst from the back of its head as the shotgun blast chewed up a fist-sized lump of flesh and scattered it like confetti.

  Dumbstruck, he watched its lips twitch as if the fucking thing was actually grinning at him.

  He held the gun in its face as it stood up.

  Then he was reeling back, soil stinging his eyes and filling his mouth. His gun blast went wide. Reynolds and another officer came running, after hearing the gun blasts.

  Hennessee fell backwards, clawing dirt from his eyes.

  The monster popped up out of the well, gleaming eyes searching for Hennessee. They saw Reynold’s shotgun blast take off the right side of its face, leaving half of the eye sitting in a brimming hole of blood, bone and grey pulsing brain.

  The creature roared and went for Reynolds.

  Blood sprayed Hennessee’s face as his blast caught the creature in the leg. It screamed again and disappeared into the hole.

  Hennessee leaned over the edge of the hole, the gun pointing down into the darkness. He let out a cry of alarm when the gun was wrenched out of his hands.

  He and Reynolds dived to the ground as soon as the gun disappeared into the hole. Blaine was not so quick or so lucky; he fell, screaming, as the blast tore away bloody clumps of his abdomen.

  Hennessee and Reynolds looked at each other in shock. The gun poked out of the hole and fired, missing Hennessee by a hair’s breadth.

  Hennessee ran in and grabbed the barrel. It was hot and burnt his palm, but he couldn’t let go. These creatures were deadly enough without them learning to use guns.

  Also on Blake’s email list was Kyle Riggs, the head scientist at the largest of the Jeffries Research Foundation labs.

  He was sitting down to dinner with his wife, Vanessa, and their three young girls, Simone, Marla and Jodi. His brother and his wife had come over for the weekend.

  Vanessa’s homemade lasagne was filling the room with a heavenly aroma and the smell was enough to make his belly growl.

  He let the kids get theirs first, then ladled a huge portion onto his plate.

  ‘Hungry, huh?’ his brother, Martin, said, taking a big swig of his beer.

  Kyle nodded, picked up a forkful of steaming lasagne.

  The fork was halfway to his lips when the message notification on his phone chimed.

  He put the fork down and got his phone from the sideboard.

  ‘Hey, no phones at the table, remember, Dad?’ Simone grinned, relishing the chance to be on the right side of this rule for a change.

  Her father didn’t laugh, didn’t even smile. Instead he went deathly pale and landed in a heap on the floor.

  The gun disappeared into the tunnel and a scaled hand reached out and grabbed Hennessee’s leg. He cried out in shock at the strength of the grip. It felt like the bones in his calf were being crushed into each other.

  The arm began to drag him down into the hole. His buddies tried to pull him back but the creature was still winning, one-handed.

  Just as Hennessee was about to be hauled into the tunnel and subjected to a quick and nasty death, the pressure on his leg abated.

  The creature cried out in pain then snarled.

  They heard the sounds of a scuffle in the hole.

  ‘Little help,’ a familiar voice said.

  Hennessee looked down to see Duggan wrestling with the creature.

  Without hesitating, he dived into the hole and started clubbing the creature over the head with the butt of his handgun.

  Reynolds dived in too.

  Duggan landed on its upper back, clinging on for dear life as it bucked like a stallion on speed.

  The back of his head slammed the roof of the tunnel, making the scene distort like it was made out of plasticine. He tasted blood in his mouth. Through sheer determination alone, he hung on.

  He gave the creature a hard chop to the throat. It was like punching a tree but it did slow the mutant for a second.

  ‘Hennessee, get on its back with me,’ he said. ‘Got an idea.’

  ‘Get its legs,’ Hennessee told Reynolds.

  Hennessee landed on its back hard, the tough skin almost tearing the breath out of him.

  Duggan went to work on the back of its head with his elbow.

  Hennessee followed his lead, peppering it with hard blows.

  When Duggan forced its head into a puddle on the tunnel floor it bucked and writhed desperately, which told him that his plan was potentially going to work.

  ‘Keep going,’ he said.

  They launched attacks into it with renewed intent. He leant his entire weight on the back of its head. Still it took all of his strength not to be thrown loose.

  The creature’s efforts gradually slowed. The puddle bubbled, the creature desperately trying to lift its head. It made low moans which were distorted by the water.

  Just when Duggan began to lose hope, the creature stopped moving.

  He held it for another few minutes before he dared move. When he did, the creature was limp.

  Finally the head erupted in a thick cloud of gore and flying gobbets of brain, covering all three men. The desperate, oxygen-starved moth creature burst from the remnants of the skull looking for a new host.

  Duggan’s swearing was truly vehement when the Taser slid from his blood-slicked hand. He lashed out with his fists, knocking the creature away from his face.

  Hennessee cried out as it landed on his shoulder. The three men slapped out at it in unison. It let out a horrendous chittering cry, circling wildly like Hell’s own toy helicopter, until it landed on the back of Hennessee’s head.

  Hennessee screamed as its barbed claws drew blood and began to anchor it to the back of his skull.

  Duggan moved fast and dug the blade of his knife between the creature and its intended host. He pulled hard, apologising to Hennessee as the barbs tore loose chunks of his scalp, and threw the creature into
the wall.

  ‘What the hell?’ Hennessee said, hands clutched to the gushing wounds in the back of his head.

  Reynolds let out a grim battle cry and thrust the Taser at the creature.

  He missed and the creature flew onto Duggan’s shoulder. Already its claws had dug in enough to soak his t-shirt with blood. The creature’s vile tongue lapped at the wet material.

  ‘Fuck you,’ Duggan said, throwing himself shoulder first into the tunnel wall. The creature let out a dismayed cry but kept its hold.

  Duggan slammed it again, pleased to hear a sickly squishing sound and feel a splat of its cold blood down his arm.

  Keen to keep it on the back foot, he thrust his shoulder into a puddle on the tunnel floor.

  The creature cried out, making bubbles in the dirty water. Its long legs scrabbled at his shoulder, trying to claw itself out of the puddle.

  Duggan thrust in further, making sure it was fully submerged.

  His grin of triumph changed to a cry of dismay when he felt its teeth digging into his deltoid.

  In utter terror, he realised it was trying to burrow into his shoulder.

  ‘Kyle, honey, wake up,’ Vanessa’s panicked voice came.

  His eyes were wide, dismayed, like boiled eggs had been shoved into the sockets.

  ‘What’s up, buddy?’ Martin asked, his face a picture of concern.

  ‘They’re coming,’ he said, a look of utter terror on his face.

  ‘Who?’ Martin’s wife, Stephanie, said.

  Vanessa picked up the phone and read the email.

  She let out a little shriek as the realisation sunk in.

  ‘They’ve let them out,’ he said. ‘They swore they’d never let them out. What the hell were they thinking?’

  ‘What’s going on?’ Martin said. ‘Is this anything to do with your research project?’

  Kyle nodded, mouth and eyes still agape. ‘The mutants have been released. Blake has sent the email to everyone. With Adam Jeffries dead, I’m pretty much the most wanted man in America.’

  Duggan was unsure whether to move and give up the ground he’d made, but then he felt the creature’s head duck into his arm, and realised it would soon disappear unless he reacted.

  ‘Taser me, quick,’ he told Reynolds.

  Reynolds looked at him as if he was insane.

  ‘Come on, man. Do it. Before the fucking thing disappears into my arm.’

  It was already halfway in, the feeling totally alien and disgusting. He wanted to retch, but knew that to do so was to waste time he didn’t have.

  Reynolds still hesitated.

  Hennessee snatched the Taser and dug it into Duggan’s arm. Duggan shook, blood and sweat and tunnel water flying from him in a cloud of fine droplets. Hennessee stopped and reached out for the creature.

  ‘Quick, it’s nearly gone,’ Duggan said, sounding terrified for the first time since Hennessee had met him.

  Hennessee put the Taser on the creature’s rapidly disappearing back end and pulled the trigger. The creature squealed and squirmed, wriggling under Duggan’s skin with a sensation that truly sickened him.

  Duggan gritted his teeth against the pain he knew was on its way and stabbed the knife through his arm, praying that he got the creature in time.

  Its rear legs were just disappearing into his body when he grabbed them. Ignoring the tiny barbs that sunk into his fingers, hoping beyond hope that he didn’t just pull the legs off the fucking thing, he pulled hard.

  The creature came out slowly, coated in a dripping layer of dark blood that steamed in the cold tunnel air. It let out a truly frustrated cry as it twisted to try and bite Duggan’s fingers.

  Duggan used a loose chunk of rock to tear it off his hand. Then he slammed the rock into the floor until the creature was stunned.

  Hennessee Tasered it, wincing at the stench of its burning flesh. Finally it gave up the ghost.

  ‘Fuck me,’ Duggan winced. ‘That was a close one.’

  Hennessee looked at the gushing wound on Duggan’s arm with barely-concealed disgust.

  ‘Let’s get these wounds seen to,’ Hennessee said, clutching a hand to his pounding head.

  ‘Before we go,’ Duggan said. ‘Help me get the mutant’s body out. It’s gonna come in useful.’

  Hennessee furrowed his brow but helped.

  They slung it into the back of Hennessee’s car, trying to avoid looking at it, especially the way the pale, blood-smeared skin hung loose from the skull like paint peeling from a rotting wall.

  ‘We need to speak to the town about this,’ Duggan said. ‘Make sure everyone is on the same page as far as these things are concerned.’

  Hennessee nodded. ‘When?’

  ‘Asap. Keep two men on each of the entry points, and get the rest going door to door telling everyone about the meeting.’

  The people of Rook’s Foot Canyon gathered at the town hall. Most of the police force was in attendance, in case tempers ran high.

  Duggan and Hennessee were behind the scenes, trying to work out what to say. They wanted to communicate the full danger of the creatures in the woods, but without causing widespread panic. Finding the right balance was a seemingly impossible task.

  At half seven, Duggan scrapped what they had written and decided to just wing it. See what happens would probably end up on Duggan’s tombstone.

  He walked out onto the raised platform and was greeted with a mixture of cheers and boos.

  ‘Hello, everyone. As you probably know, I’m Jim Duggan from Taunton. I’m here to help with the incidents that have been taking place in the woods around your town.’

  ‘Go back to the city,’ shouted a man who sounded suspiciously like Joe Coache.

  Duggan ignored the heckler and carried on.

  ‘It’s hard to find the right words to describe the situation. On one hand, the inhabitants of the woods pose a serious threat to the people of this town. On the other, the things that lurk in the woods are not invincible. Myself, Chief Hennessee and Officer Reynolds killed one only a few hours ago.’

  A hand rose in the air, then a worried female voice said, ‘You said the things that lurk in the woods, so it’s not just one killer?’

  ‘And it’s not human, at that?’ shouted another.

  The crowd became a blur of raised, worried voices.

  Duggan brayed his hand on the microphone until the noise died down.

  ‘Yes, there are a number of beings in the woods. We don’t know how many. And no, they are not human, although they do share some of our characteristics.’

  ‘I heard it’s werewolves,’ shouted a young voice.

  ‘I heard vampires.’

  ‘No, it’s neither of those things, although they do seem to have a fondness for blood and eating people,’ Duggan said, then clapped a hand across his mouth. He hadn’t meant to let that out. Hennessee’s glare prompted him to wave a hasty apology.

  The crowd was once more a sea of panicked, gibbering faces.

  ‘What the hell are they then?’ shouted one man.

  ‘We brought one in for you to look at. I warn you that it’s horrific and it may cause nightmares, but I would advise you to look at it, so you can see what we are up against.’

  Benson reeled a crank and a pulley moved a rope down into the stage behind Duggan. From the end of the rope hung the creature that had once been Officer Thompson.

  The crowd gasped. More than a few people screamed, men included.

  ‘Sweet Jesus.’

  ‘It’s hideous.’

  ‘Lord have mercy on us.’

  Duggan called attention again. The fear of the town was thick in the air.

  ‘Now, as I have said, it is not a fight that we cannot win. I have killed two of them now.’

  ‘How? I heard Officer Yorke riddled it with bullets and it just laughed and carried on attacking him.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ Duggan said. ‘He didn’t manage to hurt it before it took him down, but these things feel pain, j
ust like we do. It just takes a little more pain to register on them. And if you hurt them enough they need to recover, just like we do, although they do heal much quicker.’

  ‘So do we shoot them and stab them?’ one man piped up.

  ‘No. From my experience – I’ve stabbed, shot and punched them – they don’t die from that. A gunshot seems to do little except make an open wound and cause a little pain. It’s annoying to them but not life-threatening.’

  ‘Jesus wept.’

  ‘It’s the devil incarnate.’

  Duggan quieted the crowd again. ‘Now, these things were once men and women. There’s a horrid moth thing in their skull, pulling the strings.’ He held up the moth he’d taken from Thompson’s head, to widespread revulsion and terror.

  ‘Quiet, quiet,’ Hennessee shouted, banging a hand into the mike stand.

  ‘Now this thing seems to need the blood or oxygen from the human circulatory system to survive. If you cut off the blood or air supply to the brain for long enough, it will panic and leave the host in search of another. So choking, drowning and decapitation are all methods of dispatching these things. A direct shot or stab to the heart might do the trick too, but good luck getting through the scales on their chest. Also, a strong electric shock to the base of the skull can paralyse or kill the parasite.’

  ‘How the hell are we meant to get close enough to these things to choke them?’ someone piped up. ‘I heard poor Mrs Blake was torn in half.’

  ‘Admittedly they are ferocious hand to hand fighters. They claw, they rip, they bite. They are far stronger than most people. But if you cause enough pain it does distract it. You have to really hurt them, mind. It’s best to catch them off guard.’

  ‘And how exactly are we supposed to do that?’ a frightened voice cried.

  ‘With great difficulty.’

  ‘Enough of this horseshit, let’s just go out into the woods and blast the shit out of them with our rifles,’ one man piped up.

  ‘Yeah. You just ain’t slung enough buckshot into ’em, city boy.’

  ‘If you get a lucky shot it may well kill them, but I do not recommend it as your only plan of attack. The action you’re describing would be futile, possibly even suicidal.’