What the hell was wrong with these things? He had never seen one do anything even remotely like this. This is more the work of a psychopath than a wild animal, he thought, backing out of the bathroom.
Whatever’s going on here, these things need to be put down and fast. The thought caught in his head as he heard a sound, a slight creaking of the floorboards behind him. He cursed himself for letting his guard down. At the same time, though, he drew his combat knife from its sheath. He’d been caught flatfooted like a rank amateur. He didn’t give himself good odds, but hopefully he could take the ugly son of a bitch with him to Hell.
He felt a puff of breath on the back of his neck, then a hand fell upon his shoulder. Without hesitation, he spun with a battle cry and brought the razor-sharp blade up in an arc. Where it met flesh, it sank in like butter. Chuck gave the knife a vicious twist before launching his full weight at his attacker.
The creature went down under the assault with little more than a grunt. Chuck pressed his advantage, straddling its torso and continued to stab it, screaming obscenities all the while – until the blade finally became stuck in bone. He braced his other hand on the body to pull it out. That’s when he realized he wasn’t touching fur. It felt like ... fabric.
It took his mind a moment to register this fact. Finally, he scrambled back from it in a breathless gasp. He turned, feeling around with his hands. Where was the goddamned flashlight? Then he saw its glow coming from the bathroom, where he’d dropped it. He scuttled over to it on hands and knees and picked it up from the bloody floor.
Turning back, he played the feeble beam out toward the doorway. Two bare feet were visible in the illumination. Jeans covered the legs they were attached to.
“Oh God, no!” Chuck scrambled back to the fallen person.
It was too late. His first stab had been instantly fatal, having driven the point of his blade straight up into the soft spot underneath Greg’s chin. The poor kid had been dead before he’d even hit the floor.
* * *
“Holy shit!” exclaimed Derek, peering down the small side street. There was something large lying in the middle of the road. “Shine that light up here!”
Francis flipped on a flashlight and played it out before them as he and his teammates stepped forward to investigate. The beam revealed fine brown hair covering a massive body. “Looks like somebody managed to fight back.”
“More like something,” corrected Derek, kneeling over the corpse. “More like a lot of somethings. This squatch has been shot up to hell ... wait a second. I don’t think the bullets killed it. Too small of a caliber. Hell, it probably barely felt them.”
* * *
The men were hunched over the body, busy examining it. They didn’t notice Kate slowly stepping backwards – a look of horror spreading across her face following the realization that this was another of the things that were killing her town. How many more are out there?
Images of her own death at the hands of these creatures began to play in her mind. Her eyes went wide as she remembered the bloody footprints she’d found earlier in the day. It had to have been one of those things, and that blood ... Gus had been missing since that morning. There had been no sign of him.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought of her kindly old dog. He had gone up against a foe that he’d stood absolutely no chance against. He’d died defending her home and her sleeping father within.
Her father! She realized that, in the nightmare of the past few hours, she had completely forgotten about him. He was home alone in the dark. What if the thing that had taken Gus had come back?
She felt her legs quicken their pace, backing away from Derek’s team. She didn’t want to go – there was safety in their numbers – but she needed to get back to her father. He was the only one left in the world for her.
* * *
“Definitely female,” Derek said. “Big one, too.”
“So, what did this?”
“Something bigger.”
“Yep,” agreed Mitchell. “Look at her head. Neck’s been snapped like a twig. I’d say a male probably took her out. Look at that indentation in her chest.”
“Stomped on her after the fact,” Derek said. “From the size of it, I’d guess we’re dealing with at least a nine-footer.”
“Well, it looks like he took care of some of our work for us. Maybe we should pin a medal on him.”
Derek gave Francis a grim smile. “Don’t worry, I have plenty of metal for that big boy right here,” he said, patting his rifle. “The one we saw earlier was around that size, maybe a little bigger. Dollars to doughnuts says he’s the alpha.”
“Where do you think it is?”
“No idea. Last I saw, it’d taken off after that kid.”
Francis whistled. “I sure hope he’s a fast runner.”
“Me too,” Derek added. “He saved our bacon. I’d like to return the favor.”
As if in response, a screaming roar split the night.
“That wasn’t far,” Mitchell said.
“No, it wasn’t. If we’re in luck, Harrison’s still leading it on a merry chase. Let’s get moving.” Derek turned around, “Kate, come on...” The words died in his throat. She was gone.
“Where the hell did she go?”
“She was right here.”
“KATE!” Derek shouted, his voice echoing in the empty streets. “Son of a bitch!”
“Should we go after her?”
Derek was silent for a moment. “No. We need to kill that thing before it gets away.”
“What if one of them finds her?” Mitchell asked.
“She’s armed. That Remington will teach some manners to anything dumb enough to stand in front of it. No. She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself,” Derek said, then silently added, I hope.
* * *
Chuck sat up, stifling a scream, the creature’s roar still echoing from outside. He blinked and looked around, sure that it was about to gut him, but there was nothing except the darkness. Gradually, the fog in his brain cleared a little. He’d found a blanket in one of the closets and used it to cover Greg’s body. It wasn’t much, but he felt he needed to do something. The kid hadn’t deserved it. Why the hell did he sneak up behind me like that, especially with all this crap going on?
He had no way of knowing that it was only the explosion at the Clemons’ place that had finally stirred Greg. He’d slept through all the rest in a drug-induced haze. Even then, he’d still been pretty wrecked, and though his death had certainly come as a surprise, there hadn’t been much pain. Chuck might have taken a little bit of comfort in knowing that.
He had covered the poor kid, then said a few words of apology over his body. Afterwards, he had slumped, exhausted, against a wall to catch his breath. His stomach had hurt quite badly and was bleeding even more profusely. He’d nodded his head for just a second and had immediately plunged into a half dream/half hallucination in which the entire clan of creatures had him surrounded. The scream from outside, though, had been real, real enough for Chuck to slap himself across the face in a bid to clear his head a little. There was still a job to do.
Pocketing the flashlight, he grabbed his knife in one hand and attempted to hold his gut closed with the other. He staggered to his feet, then shuddered in pain before slowly making his way back down the stairs.
Eventually, he found the front door, and spent several seconds fumbling with the locks – his fingers feeling slow and heavy. He opened the door and stepped out, surveying the scene as best he could. His eyes didn’t seem to want to focus correctly. He could see well enough, though, to notice the two lumps on the ground in front of the B&B. He hobbled down the stairs as quickly as he dared and went over to them.
Two bodies, a human and a squatch. He didn’t know what happened to the person, but the large bullet holes in the creature’s corpse told him all he needed to know.
He was considering his next move, when he heard a sound ... fo
otsteps. Looking up, he spied a figure across the street. It was moving quickly. Even in the moonlight, though, he could tell it was far too small and slim to be a squatch. The person was holding something; it looked like a gun.
Rising from the sasquatch corpse, he began painfully shuffling toward the direction of the newcomer. Hot damn! Finally, a lucky break.
He had no idea how wrong he was.
* * *
The creature’s screams had finally broken the last of Kate’s nerve, otherwise she might have heeded reason and stayed with those reporters. No, that wasn’t right. They didn’t act like any reporters she’d ever heard of, especially with all those guns. They were more like hunters, but that was insane. Who would hunt creatures like these? If there was a Hell, then those things must surely be from its deepest depths.
Still, some small part of her had rebelled against the mad need to find her father. Deep down, she knew it was in her best interest to remain with the men. However, the beast’s cries had silenced all opposition in her mind. There was at least one more of them out there. Its wild bellowing had purged any rational thought while awakening a primal fear inside her. She’d turned away from them at once. Let them go forward and be slaughtered by that thing. She’d find her father, and together they’d somehow survive this nightmare.
Setting a quick pace, she tried to keep from outright running. The gun was heavy, and it was dark. It wouldn’t do any good if she fell and broke something. She’d kept to the middle of the road, as the group had done earlier, until the dark form of the bed and breakfast loomed before her. Knowing what was waiting outside it, Kate was certain she wouldn’t be able to handle seeing the beast’s body again. She was barely holding on by a thread.
Unfortunately, that thread was about to snap.
Moving to the far side of the street, she quickened her steps to pass the dreadful scene. She was almost past when she heard something coming from its direction.
“Heeeeyyyy!” a slurred voice seemed to call out.
She stopped and shut her eyes. No! It’s just in my head.
“Heeeyyyy ... yooouuuu,” the voice gasped again.
Almost against her will, her eyes opened. She turned toward the small hostel and immediately wished she hadn’t, for what she saw wasn’t possible.
The thing had risen from where the body of the monster lay and lurched in her direction. It took slow shambling steps, as if it weren’t used to its legs. One hand was pressed tightly against its body, and in the other ... Oh my God, it has a knife!
“Stay back,” she sputtered weakly.
It continued to shamble closer. Drawing near, she could see it better. There was enough moonlight to make out that it was covered, head to toe, in some dark ichor. She imagined some unspeakable offspring clawing its way out of the belly of the dead monster, a hideous abortion that refused to die. It was coming for her now, seeking vengeance for its slain mother.
“Heeeellllllppp meeeeee,” it croaked, stepping to within ten feet of her,
That did it. The frayed tatters of her sanity snapped in that instant. She turned the barrel of the shotgun toward it, now close enough to see the whites of its eyes widen in surprise. It seemed an almost human gesture to her, perhaps too human. Her finger squeezed the trigger. Fire and thunder erupted from the gun, driving her back a few steps and almost knocking the wind from her.
Fate was far less kind to her attacker. The creature’s chest and jaw disappeared in a spray of gore. It was blown backwards by the blast, landing on the ground twitching.
She didn’t bother sticking around to see if it got back up. Ignoring all caution, Kate ran off into the night, smoke still trailing from the shotgun.
Chapter 33
It was a small wonder that Kate Barrows didn’t run into anyone, or anything, else as she fled. It was probably for the best. The sound of her shot caught the attention of the many ears in the area. Had another human come across her in the dark, they might have met the same fate as Chuck. Had she run across one of the clan, perhaps things would have ended in a different, if no less bloody, way. Whether through darkness, accident, or design, she didn’t see another living thing as she ran blindly home in search of her father.
* * *
Derek and the two remaining members of his team were still down the side street where they’d found the female’s corpse. The sound of the shotgun blast stopped them dead in their tracks. Unfortunately, the buildings around them played havoc with the acoustics. It took them several moments to realize that the shot had issued from the direction they’d come from. After that, it didn’t take much consideration to conclude it had come from Kate.
* * *
Danni had been resting against a tree about halfway back from the Barrows’ place when she heard the shot. She’d been pushing herself hard and was finally reaching her limit. When the blast sounded, though, she felt something she hadn’t in several hours ... hope. Someone was out there, and they were fighting back. It might even be her brother. It was enough to get her moving again.
* * *
“It’s about time,” Harrison muttered. After fleeing the scene of the two battling monsters, he’d holed up in a tiny crawlspace beneath the first house he found. It was a tight fit, far too narrow for one of those things to manage. They’d have to tear the whole damn building apart to get to him, albeit he wasn’t entirely doubtful of their ability to do so. Fortunately, nothing had tried to get at him. Soon after, tired and scared, he’d dozed off in the confined space. He didn’t realize he had slept through a previous volley of gunfire, as well as the commotion made from the Clemons’ house blowing up.
Now that he was roused, though, he decided to chance it. If Derek and the others were armed, then that’s who he wanted to be with.
He crawled out, looked around, then started back in the direction of Main Street.
* * *
The Alpha had been ready to scream his fury into the night again when he heard the noise. He refused to believe that the two-legged thing had escaped after the outcast had dared challenge him. He’d dispatched her with raw, brute savagery, being far larger and stronger than the outcast bitch. She was a fool to attack him and had been dealt with accordingly. Before dying, though, she had inflicted several minor, if annoying, wounds on him.
The two-legged thing had run off during the battle. When it was over, the Alpha pursued, but his pace was lessened by his injuries. Then, much to his surprise, he’d lost the stupid thing’s scent. Little by little, the disease was taking its toll on the mighty creature. Thick, pus-like mucus had started to clog up his nasal passages. More of it was building up in his eyes, blurring his vision.
He’d howled in rage when he realized he couldn’t locate the two-legged thing. Afterwards, he had taken out his frustration on the nearest of their dwellings. One entire wall of the Bonanza Creek Post Office had already been demolished, although he did not know it was called that. The building was groaning from the strain of his repeated attacks and wouldn’t last much longer. Before he could topple it, though, a new sound filled the air. It was loud, like the bellow of some great beast.
Had his brain been in a less advanced state of decay, he would have remembered the two-legged things’ fire sticks and the lessons of his ancestors, but he was beyond that now. He heard the sound through his semi-clogged ears and came to the only conclusion the rage would allow ... it was the cry of another challenger. It, too, would be killed. It, too, would scream.
Chapter 34
The hunters became the hunted. They just didn’t know it yet. It wasn’t that they weren’t being cautious, far from it. They’d simply been spotted first.
When the attack came, it came quickly and without warning. The Alpha’s senses, though dulled by the disease, were still superior to any of the men whom it spied as it came looking for the source of the challenge.
Though it had long abandoned any notions of purposeful stealth, it still moved with a natural grace that bel
ied its size. Had it bellowed its fury at the men, they would have turned and cut it down easily, though it didn’t know this. For whatever reason – whether the very last vestiges of instinct remaining in its dying neurons or a total focus on the killing to come – it remained silent.
* * *
The two-legged things were moving away from him. Perhaps they were fleeing. It didn’t matter. What did, was that their backs were to him. Soon, the only thing that would matter would be their dying screams and the hot wash of their blood as the Alpha drank it in great slurps. Foamy drool dripped from his lips in anticipation.
He closed to within ten yards, then could control himself no longer. He put on a burst of speed as the rage boiled over, screaming a cry of victory.
* * *
Derek thought perhaps a truck had hit them, some crazed survivor of this doomed town making a run for it. As he flew through the air, though, he realized there were two problems with that theory: he didn’t recall hearing an engine, and the thing that hit them had been a little too hairy to be a truck. Then gravity reasserted itself, and he hit the ground, knocking the rifle from his hands. He skidded to a halt, scraping himself in a dozen places and momentarily scattering all coherent thought to the wind.
The creature had appeared behind them, seemingly from out of nowhere. So intent had they been on rushing to Kate’s aid that they’d acted like a bunch of rank amateurs, forgetting that the threat could come from anywhere.
First, there had been its unearthly bellow, so loud and near it had practically rattled their teeth. Less than a second later, it was upon them, its sheer size alone allowing it to barrel them over all at once.
It caught Derek in the back with one of its meaty fists, sending him tumbling down the street. The others had both been hit by a wide, sweeping blow from its other arm. Mitchell was flung into the side of a wrecked pickup they’d been passing, slamming into the driver’s side door before landing in an unmoving heap. The blow shattered Francis’s right arm and sent him flying. He landed badly, pain immediately flaring through his left leg as it, too, snapped.
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