by Ann Charles
“They set up a trap,” I said between huffs.
“This ain’t no trap, girl.” He finished loading, lifting Bessie’s double barrels and aiming toward one of the chimera that was slinking under the trees. Its jaws opened in a toothy snarl. “It’s a doggone ambush!”
Chapter Sixteen
“Fire in the hole!” Harvey yelled.
I covered my ears as Bessie boomed next to me.
“Violet!” Doc shouted from the other side of the Plymouth through the open windows. “To your right!”
I turned in time to see one of the chimera charging at me from about twenty yards away. I raised the crowbar in prep to swing. The damned piece of metal flew from my gloved hand, sailing high into the air.
“Heads up!” I yelled, turning back to see my attacker closing the distance.
I heard the crowbar hit the Plymouth’s roof and looked over in time to see it ricochet toward the other side of the car.
A grunt followed, and then, “Son of a—Parker!”
Oops!
Weaponless, I faced my foe, planning to dodge at the last moment, using the open driver’s side door like a matador’s cape. But when I took the first step, my boot slipped out from under me. I fell backward into the snow in front of the door, cringing as the creature sailed over me. Its jaws snapped downward as it tried to adjust course in mid-air, and then it slammed headfirst into the door, ramming it closed.
The loud creak of rusted hinges made Harvey glance around from his position at the back fender. The chimera lay in the snow near his boots, its tongue hanging out.
“It knocked itself out cold,” I said, sitting up. Or dead. “The car wins round one.”
Harvey strode over and jammed his shotgun barrels into its open jaws. “Here’s a good-bye kiss from Bessie.”
“Wait!” I yelled, scrambling backward through the snow while shielding my face.
He pulled the trigger. Boom!
Fur, black blood, and shards of bone spattered against the rusty car, as well as my jeans, upraised arm, and neck.
“Dammit, Harvey!” I wiped the wet, furry mess off my neck with my gloves, grimacing at the foul stench. “You got it all over me.”
Several shots rang out from the other side of the Plymouth.
I scrambled to my feet. “I need to catch one of them alive.”
“Quit yer caterwaulin’. Ya got plenty left to pick from.” He stuffed more shells into Bessie. “Why’d ya go and throw yer weapon away?”
“I didn’t. It slipped.” I yanked off my useless gloves and threw them on the ground. “I really need to get me some fighting gloves.”
“What we need is to get the hell outta here,” Harvey said. “We’re outnumbered.”
“Unless you have a helicopter on call, we’re screwed.” I searched around us. “I need something to hit with.” Near the back fender, a rusted leaf spring stuck out of the snow. I tried to pull it out, but it wouldn’t budge.
“You can’t swing that thing, Sparky. It’s near on fifty pounds.”
I let go of the cold metal, rubbing my hands on my jeans to keep them warm. When I looked up, I locked gazes with a big burly bastard of a chimera with a white mane ringing its thick neck. It stood not twenty feet away with its head lowered, sizing me up. Before it finished its assessment, another chimera joined it. This one stood a couple of inches shorter, its muzzle gray with white dots.
“Harvey,” I said, backing toward my bodyguard.
“I see ‘em, but I got me a bit of a prickly situation over here myself.” A low growl rumbled from the trees beyond him.
“I sure wish you had a cannon in your pocket,” I said, keeping my focus on the two beasts still watching me, making those throaty gobble-growl sounds back and forth.
“I’m gonna start carryin’ dynamite under my seat when I come to Slagton,” Harvey muttered. He glanced over his shoulder, doing a double take. “Doc! Two o’clock.”
“Got it,” Doc shouted. Two rapid shots rang out from the other side of the car. My blood pressure lowered at hearing Doc was still in the game. What about Cooper?
“Parker!”
Speaking of the law dog …
“I’m a little busy right now.” I frowned down at my hands, trying to think of what I could do if both of the toothy bastards came at me at once.
“Look at me!” Cooper barked from behind me.
“I said I’m busy.”
“Now!” Two rapid shots whined past my head, scattering the two creatures into the trees.
I flinched, turning to glare at him over the top of the Plymouth. “Damn it, Cooper! You almost took off my ear.”
“Take your fucking weapon.” He shook it with every other syllable.
Oh!
He tossed the crowbar to me.
I noticed a cut on his forehead. A drop of blood was trickling toward his eye. “You’re bleeding.” I pointed at my own forehead to show him where.
“I know!” He wiped it with his sleeve, smearing the blood. His face scrunched up tight. “Someone threw a goddamned crowbar at me.”
I grimaced. “Sorry about that.”
“If we get out of this alive, Parker, I’m gonna—”
Boom! Boom! Bessie went off twice next to me, rattling my eardrums. I turned to see what Harvey was trying to blow to smithereens.
“Coop!” Harvey shouted, loading Bessie again. “Git over here. I’m gonna need ya to cover me.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” I asked.
“I’m gonna make a run fer my rig. We need to split these cocksuckers up so you got a chance.”
“How fast do you think you can run with your trick hip?”
“A helluva lot faster than you in those fancy shitkickers.”
He had a point.
“I’ll go,” Cooper said, jogging around the front of the Plymouth. “You’re too slow, Uncle Willis.”
“I’ll move faster than a prairie fire with a tail wind when those critters are bitin’ at my heels. Watch and see.”
“No, you stay here and cover me.”
“Where’s Doc?” I asked Cooper.
“Right here,” Doc called from the other side of the car. “If you guys are going to do something, then hit it. We have a situation brewing over here.”
I looked over the top of the Plymouth. Across the way, four of the creatures were lining up with us in their sights. They waited at the tree line, the creek winding between them and us. Meanwhile, another chimera was stalking toward Doc from the trees to the north, taking one slow step at a time, snout down, mane bristling. I had the feeling it was trying to distract him from the other four.
Shit! There were too many. “We can all make a run for it,” I said.
“Runnin’ is what ya do when all else fails,” Harvey said. “I got me an escape plan. Cover me, Coop.”
He took off across the snow.
“Dammit!” Cooper said, taking aim at one of the predators that sped off after his uncle. “I got the fucking keys!” he yelled after Harvey. As soon as Cooper fired off two shots, he frowned at me. “Hold on tight to that damned crowbar, Parker.” Then he took off after his uncle, aiming and shooting as he ran.
I heard a garbled hoot from one of the beasts under the trees to my left. The hooter and several more of the chimera, including the one that had been stalking Doc, rushed after Cooper as if on command, their jaws snapping as snow flew from under their three-toed feet.
Gripping my bar tight, I skirted the back of the Plymouth, almost falling in my haste.
“Harvey has a plan,” I told Doc, squatting next to him with the old car at our backs.
“I hope to hell it works.” He glanced my way. “You hurt?”
“No, but I could use a shot of tequila.”
His grin was pained. “I’ll buy you a big bottle if we make it out of this in one piece, Killer.”
“Look.” I pointed at the four lined up to attack. “What are they waiting for?”
A volley of s
hots rang out from the other side of the woodshed, followed by a surprised bellow and then: BOOM!
My heart pounded in my ears. Criminy! Just this morning I was sitting at my desk worrying about some flesh-eating ghouls. Now here I was facing off with a shitload of mutant griffin-like creatures intent on ripping out my throat. I shook my head. To think I once worried that life in the hills might be too slow paced for my liking.
“Do you see those two over there under that big half-burned pine?” Doc pointed the handgun to our right.
I shielded my eyes. “Yes.”
“I think they’re running the show.”
“You mean they’re the alphas in the pack?”
“Alphas? I don’t think so. They are calling the shots, though. Commanders, maybe. Every so often, they make that gobble-growl-hoot noise, and then the others will shift positions.”
“You mean the—”
“Shhh.” He held up his hand, quieting me. “You hear that?”
I tuned in, picking up a low guttural rumble coming from the four holding in position across the valley. Goose bumps peppered my arms.
“Check out those three,” he said, pointing to the north.
Damn. I hadn’t even noticed them hiding in the shadows.
As I watched, they lined up, spacing themselves so that two were out front and the other was about ten feet behind. A call from one of the commanders rang out in the quiet. The three to the north switched so that the biggest one was out front, with two falling back several feet behind it.
“See,” Doc said. “This is like a pack hunt on steroids.”
“Wonderful. If only we weren’t the prey.”
“Counting the two commanders, we’re looking at nine that we can see.” Doc squinted into the distance. “I have a feeling there might be more hidden back in the trees, the sneaky bastards.”
“I thought there were only eight beasts in the Wild Hunt, plus the leader.”
“It’s a myth, Violet. A tale based on truth.” Looking through the passenger window, he peered into the car. He reached across the front seat and grabbed the steering wheel, tugging. Something creaked and snapped in the cab, a puff of rust and dust billowing.
“What are you doing?”
“Buying us more time for Harvey’s plan to work.” He scanned the enemy line, frowning. “Stay here,” he said, and ran around the back of the car.
I watched through the window as he wrenched open the driver’s door. The hinges screamed, echoing in the cold still air. Doc kicked the steering wheel several times, bending it in my direction as rust rained down onto the blanket of snow covering the seat and floor.
I looked back toward the line of predators. Two more stepped out of the trees and joined the other four in the line.
“Hurry, Doc,” I said.
He grunted and kicked again. Flakes of rust flew. The steering wheel wilted forward. One more kick broke the sucker clean off.
Boom! Bessie went off again, only she sounded farther away.
Several gunshots blasted in quick succession, also in the distance.
I peeked over the car toward the woodshed. Harvey and Cooper were nowhere to be seen. As I searched, two more of the damned chimeras trotted around the woodshed from the north, pausing at the edge of the shed, watching Doc.
“Coop and Harvey are gone,” I said. “Should we follow them?” The south side of the woodshed was the only open path, which was the way Harvey and Cooper had run.
“We can’t,” Doc said, skirting the rusted remains of the front of the car. He handed me the old steering wheel. “Take this.”
I took the wheel in my left hand. It was a big circle with a Y in the center. “Why not?”
A high-pitched yapping noise made me scan the tree line. Including the commanders, I now counted thirteen total of the bastards setting up for what I surmised was their final attack.
“Because I have two bullets left in Cooper’s gun and only one Executioner.” He stepped into the snowy weeds where the Plymouth’s motor used to hold court long ago. “And we’re surrounded.”
“We could make a run for it.”
“Not in those boots, you can’t.” Doc reached down and yanked on a thick, rusted steel bar coming out from the engine side of the dashboard.
“I’ll take them off and run in my socks.”
“It’s too late to run, Killer.” He wrenched on the corroded joint near the end of the bar, then kicked it a couple of times. “I just need to free this damned steering shaft before they rush us.”
My gut sank. Doc was right. To flee now was inviting a frenzied chase to the death. We needed to stand and fight.
I frowned out at the six facing us. They’d moved closer, now lining the far edge of the creek. The predators to the north had moved nearer, too. “They’re tightening the circle,” I said out loud.
Something clanked in the engine compartment. “Got it!”
In the trees, the two commanders made a growling-clicking sound, followed by a piercing yowl.
“Time’s up,” I whispered.
As soon as the words left my mouth, everything slowed around me. Something inside of me opened wide, like a daisy in the sun, cranking up my senses.
I could hear the huffs of breath and gnashing teeth from the beasts surrounding us as they prepared to pounce. On my left, there was a thump-thump as snow fell from a pine tree branch. Behind me, near the woodshed, a branch snapped. A truck door slammed.
Without turning my head, I could pinpoint in my mind’s eye all six chimeras in front of me, the two commanders on my right, and the five others scattered to my left. It was as if I had finally grown the eyeballs in the back of my head that the kids always joked about.
I smelled the pine trees, the musky scent of the creatures, Doc’s fabric softener, the musty remains of the old Plymouth’s interior, and the foul stench from the blood and pieces of brain and flesh splattered and smeared on my coat from the bastard Harvey had blown to pieces.
My fingers and toes tingled, adrenaline pulsing through me. The rush of sensations made me dizzy for a blink or two. Shaking it off, I took a deep breath and tightened my grip on the crowbar and steering wheel.
“Let the dance begin.” I stepped away from the car, digging in with my heels as I cut through the snow to keep from falling on my ass.
“Where do you think you’re going, Killer?” Doc grabbed my arm.
I stopped, frowning at him. “I need to lure them away from you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Two bullets will only slow them for a second.”
He raised the nearly three-feet-long rusty steering shaft. “I’m armed with more than two bullets.”
I scanned the area. The circle of predators was cinching tighter. “Doc, if I can get them to come for me, you can take the offensive and pick them off one by one while I try to keep them busy in the middle of the pile.”
“There are too many for that to work.”
“You have a better plan?”
“Damned straight. We work as a team.”
“Doc, I don’t—”
“Yeah, but I do.” He looked over my shoulder. “Here they come!”
Like a swarm of ants, they attacked.
Doc lifted Cooper’s gun.
“Aim for the head,” I yelled, and raised the crowbar, using the steering wheel as a half-assed shield.
A shot rang out next to me at the same time two of the suckers on my left sprung, catching air with those flaps of skin on their sides. I swung hard, the bar connecting hard with the skull of one, sending it tumbling as the crowbar vibrated free of my hand. Before I had a chance to blink, the second creature slammed into the steering wheel. I lost my footing, and we both rolled through the snow.
When we stopped, the chimera’s head was wedged in the metal Y while I held the wheel with two hands, keeping it at arm’s length. Its teeth gnashed, spit flying, while I cringed back into the snow. I twisted the wheel hard and fast, snapping the beast’s neck. Its
body went limp on the ground next to me.
Clambering to my feet, I scooped the crowbar out of the snow. “To Hell with you,” I said and gripped the cold wet bar with both hands, thrusting it through the predator’s chest. It exploded, filling the air with ash.
Coughing, I picked up the steering wheel. Now where was the other one I’d clobbered? Black blood covered the snow where it’d landed.
I heard heavy breathing behind me and whirled, wheel and bar at the ready. The creature stood on the roof of the old Plymouth. It leapt through the air toward me. I ducked at the last minute, shoving the crowbar up into its belly as it flew over me. It hit the ground at my feet and didn’t move, black blood spilling into the snow. I stabbed it clear through the neck. The damned thing blew up in my face before I could pull the crowbar free, coating me with another layer of ash.
A second shot rang out behind me. I started to turn to see if Doc needed help, but three more chimeras rushed me at once, clawing at the snow in their haste to chew me to pieces.
Crap! I tried to dart to the left, my stupid boots losing traction out of the gate. As I started to fall forward, I planted the crowbar in the snow and let my momentum spin me while holding onto the outer ring of the steering wheel. I clocked one beast hard enough to send it flying into the remains of the Plymouth’s rusted engine bay. I kicked another of the three in the head with the toe of my boot, knocking the sucker into the third. As they righted themselves, I pulled the crowbar from the snow. The metal was cold and wet in my hand, the snow cleaning most of the blood off. I wiped it off on my jeans and tightened my grip on the bar.
One of the chimeras lunged for me. I slammed the steering wheel and crowbar together, playing cymbals with its head. Its eyes rolled back as it slipped to the ground. The third leapt over the downed predator, lunging straight for my chest. I sidestepped, snaring it in the steering wheel like I had the other, but its momentum tore the wheel from my grip. It landed headfirst, plowing a path through the snow with the wheel. When it turned back to charge at me again, snow blocked its sight. I rushed it, bringing the crowbar down like a sledgehammer on its head. The gray ash flew in my eyes, making them water and burn.
