by R D Shah
Harker reeled back in his chair at the realisation of how close they were to the ground and, as the rotors began to slow even further, his body was frozen under the increasing feeling of freefall. His safety belt tightened as his whole frame rose off the seat, and he turned his head to see the silhouettes of Chloe and Brulet being levitated in the same manner.
Amidst the roar of the failing engines, Harker could hear the pilot yelling something but the only words he caught was ‘Brace’ and ‘Emergency’. It was enough, however, to know what was coming next. He let his whole body slacken, which is not a natural instinct when you are hurtling towards the ground at unknown speed, but surprisingly it felt like the most natural thing in the world. During a collision the worst thing a person can do is tense up, because tightened muscles offer more resistance to the force of the impact. When you drop a rod of glass onto a tiled floor it shatters, but when you do the same thing with a length of rubber nothing happens. This was the analogy quoted by Harker’s driving instructor many years back when discussing how best to survive an accident. At the time the logic of it, or even why a driving instructor would discuss the factors of car crash during a driving lesson, had not been fully clear to him. But suddenly it was beginning to make sense.
Nonetheless in the moments of freefall he now found some solace in this titbit of information and it was a concept that he now clung to.
Just relax and let the helicopter itself do the crashing he thought, keen to share the advice with his companions. ‘Try to relax,’ he yelled warningly amid one of Chloe’s uncontrollable screams. For a moment there was silence, before she erupted again and louder this time.
The out-of-control sensation of being in freefall seemed to go on for minutes, and Harker was still fighting any urge to tense up when the high-pitched whine of the engines re=engaging, back up to full throttle, shrieked throughout the cabin. He was forced back deep into his seat as the rotors began to slow their descent and he felt a welcome feeling of relief overcome him. Sadly it was short-lived as, seconds later, a tremendous impact rippled through the aircraft from the floor upwards, when the Bell 430’s undercarriage hit the ground with such force that the two landing wheels were instantly crushed and the tail cone snapped clean off. The machine bounced upward as the rotors continued to spin on full throttle, dragging the entire fuselage down onto one side and starting the spinning rotors digging into the ground, until they splintered asunder sending large fragments of twisted metal in all directions.
Inside the wreck, it was near pitch dark but after a minute or so the vibrations began to soften and the only sign of life was faint groaning barely audible over the heavy pattering of rain against the cabin’s exterior and a weighty clicking sound as the revolving rotors outside continued to scrape against the ground.
Harker groggily fumbled with his seat belt, which was digging painfully into his waist, since his seat was now tilted at 90 degrees to the floor. The impact itself had been hard but nothing as bad as one would expect of a helicopter crash, which was no doubt due to that last-minute recovery of the engines. That and damn good flying by the pilot. Harker attempted to raise his head but winced immediately, since the force of the fuselage being wrenched on to its side had flicked his head violently to one side, causing a nasty whiplash. Apart from that he seemed remarkably unscathed.
‘Chloe,’ he croaked, ‘are you OK?’
‘I’m still here,’ she replied immediately and, after a pause, ‘I’m still in one piece… I think?’
Harker gave a sigh of relief and slumped slightly on detecting a hint of humour.
‘And I am fine too.’ Brulet joined in, whereupon Harker swivelled his bruised neck to catch sight of the dark profile of the Grand Master grappling with his seat belt. There followed a series of metallic clicks as the locking mechanism released, then a thud as Brulet’s body collapsed to the floor. He then stood up and slowly reached over to Chloe and, after a moment of rooting for her seat belt in the dark, released her as well and gently eased her down.
‘We’re lucky to be alive. So take it easy,’ he advised as Chloe immediately attempted to push herself upright using the side of the cabin – formerly the floor – for support. ‘You’ll probably have a concussion… that was one serious knock.’
The Grand Master took a moment to steady his own shaky legs, then leant over to Harker who was still hanging from his seat as outside one of the helicopter’s landing lights began flashing and in doing so it lit up both their faces in a bright coloured orange. ‘Are you alive, Alex?’
Harker managed a gentle nod. ‘The amount of pain I’m feeling in my neck would suggest so, yes, Sebastian.’
Brulet offered a thankful smile. ‘Good; it’s when you can’t feel anything at all that one needs to worry. Now let’s get you down.’ He reached over and prepared to release Harker’s seat belt. ‘Hold on to my shoulders.’ In one swift motion he released the belt lock and grabbed on to Harker as he tumbled loose, managing to bear the weight of the man until he had regained his balance.
‘Thanks,’ Harker said shakily.
‘You two get outside.’ Brulet gestured to the still seemingly intact sliding entrance door that was now directly above them. ‘I’ll go check on the pilot.’
In the minutes since the crash, Harker had not even considered the man who had managed to get them down safely. ‘I’ll help you,’ he replied, but Brulet nudged him back towards Chloe.
‘No, I’ll do it. You get her out of here.’
Without argument, Harker reached up for the entrance door and pulled at the handle. Much to his relief it released with a click and slid back easily on its rollers, allowing a shower of rainfall to pour in on them. The cold shower was invigorating for Harker, who grabbed the rim of the opening and pulled himself up, using the protruding seat as a footstool.
The air was warm in contrast to the cool rain and, even with the spinning rotary hub behind him now slowing to a halt, he took a moment to relish the refreshing droplets against his face, before reaching down and helping Chloe up to join him outside on top of the fuselage.
Despite swirling dark storm clouds overhead, which appeared to be warring violently amongst themselves, the full moon was still visible, casting a welcome silvery light over the surrounding area. The pilot had managed to come down on a large piece of open land, cut into the surrounding forest, and leading up to small mountain range covered in thick foliage. Metal fences had been constructed around its exterior, encompassing a large portion of forest, which ran way up to the mountain slope and then across its steep incline creating a large enclosed area of land. At the base of the mountain, a few hundred metres away from their position, Harker could also make out the dark outline of a building with a single light glowing on top of it and the sight provided him with a small measure of comfort.
Harker carefully climbed down across the helicopter’s underbelly, making sure to avoid the jutting-out metal spikes that had been the landing gears, then he assisted Chloe in joining him before he led her clear of the wrecked aircraft. It was not until they reached a safe distance that Harker realised just how fortunate they had been. Due to the rain, the sparsely vegetated sandy area they had ended up in was muddy as hell, providing some cushioning on landing but it was obvious now that it was the pilot’s actions that had saved them. For the helicopter had plunged cockpit-first into the ground, thus taking most of the impact, then fallen back on to its base and then ended up on to its side. The whole front of it was crushed, having taken the brunt of the impact, and there was no doubt in Harker’s mind that it was this that had saved them from receiving far more serious injuries. The damage to the cockpit looked regrettably severe so it seemed unlikely that the pilot could have survived. This assessment was confirmed when Brulet appeared alone from the entrance hatch moments later. As he navigated his way to the ground, then began making his way towards them, Harker could only wonder if the young pilot had crashed that way deliberately in a last-ditch attempt to save his passengers, or whethe
r it had just been the luck of the draw. Either way they owed the man their lives… someone whose name Harker didn’t even know.
‘The pilot?’ Harker yelled over to Brulet, as he approached them.
‘No, I am afraid not.’ Brulet was shaking his head sadly.
The three of them took a moment to survey the torn and broken remains of downed helicopter, with its orange and white navigation lights still flashing, before it was Brulet himself who broke the respectful silence.
‘I hope this is the place, Alex,’ he said, with a tinge of desperation in his voice, ‘because we’re not going anywhere else for the time being.’ No sooner had he finished his sentence when a piercing howl penetrated the rain-swept night sky with such a ferocity that they all instinctively huddled closer to each other and stared in the direction it had come from. Near the edge of the forest, on the far side of the clearing, a pair of yellow eyes glinted amidst the downpour and the large body behind them started to sway impatiently from side to side in the gloom. Something dark. Something large. More pairs of eyes now appeared – and with them an increase in movement.
Harker felt an uncomfortable chill ripple through him as the multiple pairs of yellow eyes began to move ever nearer, gaining in speed, and as the darkened shapes broke out from the murkiness of the forest, the silver moonlight revealed the shadows to be a mass of individual bodies, each covered in a thick coat of matted fur. Behind the snarls were exposed glints of white teeth, and all the while they kept moving faster and faster.
‘I think that answers your question, Sebastian,’ Harker whispered even as he began to take a step backwards, pulling Chloe and Brulet each by the arm. ‘Now run.’
Chapter 41
‘Keep going,’ Harker shouted as Chloe stumbled on a clump of thick weeds and was immediately hauled back onto her feet by Harker and Brulet before she could hit the ground. She regained her balance and kicked off her single remaining leather-heeled shoe mid-step while remaining on course and still heading for the single source of light and the darkened building underneath it, about sixty metres ahead.
Harker glanced back towards the flashing lights of the downed helicopter and the number of hunched-over black silhouettes that were rapidly catching them up. The deep snarling had now dissolved into a heavy panting as these creatures increased their speed, sending up sprays of water at every step as their paws connected with the sodden ground.
‘Those things are too quick,’ Harker cursed, glancing back at the ghostly pack of beasts that were gaining on them fast. At their current speed they would close the gap well before anyone reached the building up ahead. They had no more than fifty metres to go, but their wraithlike pursuers were quickly closing the gap. ‘We’re not going to make it,’ Harker called out, having already decided what he would have to do next. ‘You two keep going,’ he yelled, ‘and I’ll distract them for as long as I can.’
This generous offer of self-sacrifice was met with a disapproving growl from Brulet, who reached into his side pocket and retrieved an orange plastic flare gun he had scavenged from the helicopter. ‘Noble offer, Alex,’ Brulet puffed, continuing to sprint, ‘but I thought this thing might come in handy.’
Brulet aimed the gun at the lead creature and squeezed the trigger. A brilliant white shower of sparks shot out from the barrel and launched a fiery distress flare right into the middle of the pack, sending the animals scattering in all directions.
Harker glanced back in time to see the flare light up one of the animals clearly, as a section of its thick fur erupted in a ball of flame, revealing the beast’s true form. The image lasted only for a moment, but it was enough. These were identical to the ‘Demons’ described in the news report. The oddly elongated jawline and double row of teeth, the yellow eyes and thick black fur were unmistakable, but they looked so much bigger than on the news footage – indeed comparable in size to a small grizzly bear, only less bulky.
Brulet’s fiery blast had done its job and the pack was still regrouping as the three of them reached the building, but the sight that greeted them immediately dispelled any hope of safety. The structure was no more than a barn with two window frames on either side, boarded up with a few rotting planks nailed across them and a rickety double wooden door in the middle.
‘Inside.’ Brulet barked and swung the door open. It grated against its rusty hinges before he slammed it shut behind them.
‘That’s not going to hold,’ Harker yelled and both he and Brulet immediately began to search the dark interior as Chloe leapt to one of the windows and peered out between the nailed planks, acting as a lookout.
The inside of the place consisted of one large empty room containing rows of wooden stalls and what looked like milking equipment, but with not a cow in sight, while off to the left a small entrance led into an adjoining room.
‘There,’ Harker directed before sprinting over to a worn-looking wooden desk pressed up against the nearest stall. ‘Give me a hand with this.’
He and Brulet shimmied the weighty piece of furniture over to the barn’s entrance, then jammed it up against both doors just as one of the creatures collided with them on the other side with such force that the impact almost knocked both men to the floor.
‘They’re coming,’ Chloe cried out, never taking her eyes off the crack at the window.
‘They’re already here,’ Harker shouted back to her as another blow against the door rocked him back on his heels. ‘Check all the stalls,’ he called out, using all the strength he could muster to hold the wooden desk in place. ‘Find anything we can use as a weapon.’
‘There’s another room back there,’ Brulet added, as he too struggled to keep the hefty piece of furniture in place. ‘Take a look… and hurry.’
Without hesitation, Chloe sprinted deeper into the building, heading first towards the nearest milking stall. But, without shoes and with sodden tights, she slid across the dusty floor slabs and crashed into the partition with a thump. She hauled herself back up and began to scour the stalls one by one, but all she could find there was mere dust, mud and spoiled hay. There was nothing at all that could be used as a weapon except for a pathetic-looking three-legged milking stool which she reluctantly decided could be used as a club. The very thought brought a nervous gulp to her throat, for the ‘club’ would be hard pressed to keep a disgruntled guinea pig at bay, let alone a razor-fanged 250-pound monster! Chloe had begrudgingly reached over to pick it up when something glinting on the wall above it caught her eye. It was difficult to see clearly because of the shadows, but also because it was covered in rust. A single farming tool – or more accurately a gardening-tool, hung from the wall. The spade was hardly an item worthy of space in an armoury, but at least it was a step up from the milking stool.
Chloe yanked it off the wall and rushed back to the others who were still wrestling desperately to hold the desk in place, as the beasts outside ramped up their assault on the barn’s door.
‘This is all I could find,’ she panted, presenting the rusty implement to view, whereupon Harker glanced over at the unimpressive weapon and offered her the most grateful look he could manage.
‘It’ll have to do,’ he yelled, grabbing for the spade. ‘Now check the other room.’
Chloe hurried towards the rear and approached the side door, skidding again on the dusty floor. ‘What I’d give for a pair of trainers,’ she muttered furiously, then quickly surveyed the dark room beyond, with only patches of moonlight shining through a series of small high-up windows to illuminate its interior. Sadly, it contained nothing more than a series of cubicles but she quickly peered into each one in turn to discover nothing more than several filthy, blocked and broken toilets.
‘It’s only a washroom, a dead end.’ she yelled and was already searching the ceiling for any sign of an air vent when the sound of splintering wood echoed from the main barn. She immediately leapt back to the doorway, to be met by a sight that twisted her stomach like a grinder. The entire lower section of barn door had br
oken away, and one of the beasts was already inside and lunging at Brulet, while Harker kept bashing at the opening with his rusty spade in an attempt to keep the others from following.
Brulet dodged the beast’s initial lunge with the skill of a matador, sending the creature leaping past him to collide with the concrete floor behind. Meanwhile he flicked his arm out, thus clicking his attached arm-sword into place and brought the steel blade down firmly on to the animal’s spine just below the neck. The strike was so fast that the beast had barely time to turn around before its legs buckled and it dropped to the floor without so much as a whimper.
‘Sebastian!’ Harker yelled a frantic warning as another of the beasts thrust its head through the opening and clamped its fangs around the mid-section of the spade with such force that the wooden handle snapped in two, leaving Harker holding nothing more than a jagged stick.
Brulet was at his side in an instant and the Grand Master began slamming the tip of his blade through the opening, again and again. High-pitched yelps could be heard even over the roar of the storm as the blade repeatedly hit its mark, driving the wounded recipient back into the blackness outside – but only to have another take its place in the continuing onslaught.
‘We can’t hold them off,’ Harker yelled as the last section of stick was ripped from his hand, and he now began to kick out at the beast’s muzzle with his shoes.
‘Fall back,’ Brulet ordered, while continuing to gouge at the snapping fangs thrust through the opening as Harker raced over to join Chloe, pushing her back into the washroom and readying the plywood door to be slammed shut.
A few metres away, Brulet inflicted a well-placed blow into the cheek of the leading beast, which emitted a deep howl of pain and it fell back and gave Brulet the opportunity for a gradual retreat, all the time swinging his arm blade from side to side as three more of the jet-black monsters forced their way through the gap and began to advance upon him slowly.
