“Kenny G?” I asked, also keeping my CZ .45 pointed upwards in a futile gesture.
“John Tesh,” answered Doctor Joan. Great. Not exactly the music I would have chosen as the soundtrack for my death. I had been hoping for something a little more dramatic. And with drums. It had to have drums. The elevator continued down. Crashing noises echoed down the shaft.
The third floor gradually passed. “Why aren’t we stopping?”
“The door is stuck on that floor. We were going to have it fixed,” the doctor explained patiently. “Really, we were meaning to get around to it.” Wonderful. Our getaway vehicle was the slowest elevator in the world. We all jerked upwards in surprise as small bits of debris began to rain on our metallic roof. I did not think we were going to make it.
Ray Shackleford sat on the floor, staring blankly off into space. He was a surprisingly big man. In his prime he must have been nearly as muscular as I was. His nose was hooked, and had been broken many times. His hair was prematurely gray, long and unkempt. His face reminded me of the senior Shackleford, and vaguely of Earl Harbinger. Julie must have taken after her mother. Thank goodness.
“Since we’re about to die together, my name’s Owen. Nice to meet you,” I told him.
He regarded me sullenly for a moment before responding. “And I’m Napoleon Bonaparte. Nice to meet you . . . Chill out kid, just kidding. I’m not that kind of crazy. Julie, please tell me this moose isn’t your boyfriend.”
Julie kept her eye on the ceiling. “No, Dad.”
“Good. Damn, he’s ugly. Now will somebody get me out of these restraints? I can help here.”
“Not a good idea,” Doctor Joan stated.
“Joan, you old biddy. I’m not gonna wring your neck. You and Lucius have been right kind. But I can help, damn it.” Something heavy rebounded off the top of the car, shaking all of us, causing the lights to flicker and the easy listening music to stop. Finally. I shot two quick rounds through the roof. The sound from the silver .45 slugs inside the narrow confines was brutal. I was glad that I had put my plugs in.
“Hold your fire! That was just the doors coming down. Cut him loose, Doc. Get ready to bail,” Julie ordered. The doctor moved to unlock Ray’s restraints. The digital display stopped at 2. A chime sounded. I knew that at any second, several thousand pounds of gargoyle were going to land on us. The doors gradually began to slide back, not fast enough. I wedged my body between them and forced them to open faster.
“Go!” We spilled into the hallway. A horrible screech of metal on stone came from the shaft as one of the gargoyles finally forced itself into the narrow passage. The elevator car was crushed as the massive creature smashed into it. The car and the monster disappeared down the shaft, hurtling toward impact in the asylum’s basement. Dust billowed up as car and monster collided with the concrete floor.
“They’re after my dad,” Julie said as she glanced down the now-open shaft. The dangling cable jerked wildly. “Crap. Monster’s already starting to climb. Wish I had a satchel charge.”
“I think one of them is after me,” I said. “They seem to be ignoring everybody else who isn’t shooting at them. If we can get out of here they’ll probably follow. The van got stepped on, but it should still be driveable.”
“Let’s go.” Julie quickly led us to the main room balcony. The stairs curved down to the common area and our escape. There was a huge hole in the floor from where the first gargoyle had crashed from the fourth-floor balcony. “Clear,” she said after a quick scan revealed no giant monsters. If the sound coming from behind us was any indication, the elevator gargoyle was almost free.
We ran down the stairs, jumping carelessly over wreckage. Doctor Joan gasped when she saw her dead patient, Barney, nearly cut in two. But she was a former Monster Hunter, and she did not shake easily. I stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder.
“You need to tend to your husband. He’s down that hall.”
“What do you mean?” Her eyes widened and her head bobbed as she swallowed in surprise. “What happened to Lucius?”
“I think it’s his heart.”
“But, but . . .” she stammered. Her eyes blinked in confusion. She was wearing bright blue eye shadow. “Not Lucius.”
“You’d best go.” She nodded and ran in the direction I was pointing. She was fast for an older lady. I sure hoped that her husband was okay, and I also hoped that this worked and these damned evil things followed us out of here and away from all of the defenseless patients.
I ran around the edge of the massive hole in the floor. Wild sparks flew from severed electrical cables and water poured from busted pipes. I saw a slippered foot sticking out from under some wreckage. Not all of the patients had run after all. Damn. Julie was at the smashed doorway, with her father standing right behind her. He was breathing heavily, not used to the physical exertion.
“I don’t see any of them. Let’s head for the van.”
“I’ll drive,” Ray offered.
“Oh, hell no,” she responded.
I felt it before I heard it, a deep rumble as a stone body rubbed on walls. A claw, as big across as my torso, crawled up over the edge of the hole. The monster pulled against the floor, trying to heave itself up and at us. A second gargoyle appeared above us on the ragged edge of the destroyed balcony. The elevator shaft gargoyle smashed its horned head through the wall on the second floor. Three pairs of blank eyes fixated on our position.
“We got company,” I said. All three creatures exploded forward at once.
We reached the van in record time. Ray tripped on the broken stairs, and almost fell. I caught him by his arm and pulled him along. Julie headed for the driver’s seat. I had lost my keys, so I reached through the already shattered window and unlocked the passenger side door. I hurled Ray in headfirst, and I squished myself in beside him. Between our twin bulks, I was not even able to close the door.
Julie turned it over. The powerful V8 caught with a roar. She slammed it into reverse and stepped on the gas. The nearest creature leapt off of the stairs and lumbered at us on its squat legs. I pushed Ray out of the way as I fired my pistol out the front window. The van whipped around in a squeal of rubber.
My neck snapped back painfully as the rear end smashed into a parked Lexus with an MHI Alumni bumper sticker. Julie put the big vehicle into drive and floored it. The van roared past the nearest gargoyle. It swung a claw at us and with a screech of metal and sparks the creature tore the sliding door completely off the side of the van. Julie swerved around the next monster as its talons ripped a huge gash through the sheet metal on the driver’s side.
We escaped in a spray of gravel. Ray flopped into the backseat. I pulled the door closed. In the rearview mirror the gargoyles spread their huge wings and with powerful legs launched themselves into the sky.
“They’re airborne,” I warned.
“I bet they can’t do a hundred,” Julie replied. The van tore down the Appleton Asylum lane at reckless and dangerous speeds. She continued to accelerate as we approached the gate.
It was a very heavy-looking gate.
“Julie. Gate. Gate!” I pointed. Wind rushed through the broken windshield.
“I know. Buckle up. This is going to hurt.”
“Honey, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Shut up, Dad.”
I quickly fumbled around for my seat belt, snagged it on my holster for a panic-filled moment, and then got it buckled. The gate approached far too quickly. I closed my eyes and braced for impact. Crash. Our front end crumpled. The van shuddered, but our momentum tore the heavy gate from its rusted hinges. Julie turned hard to the side and we slid onto the open road.
“That was awesome,” was all that I could think to say.
“Yeah, that was cool,” Julie said as she picked her glasses out of her lap and put them back on. “I don’t see them. Are they following . . . ack!” She struggled against the wheel as something huge collided with our roof.
I t
urned in time to see a stone talon pierce the sheet metal over the rear of the van. More claws appeared as the creature wedged its way in and began to peel our van open like a ripe banana. I tried to get up, realized I was still strapped in, and then hit the button to set myself free. I fell into the back seat beside Ray and groped on the floor through the various gun cases. The van shook wildly as the gargoyle’s weight shifted. I found the case I was looking for and unzipped it. I lifted the heavy weapon, inserted one of the huge magazines into the gun’s side and worked the heavy bolt. It was so long that it was difficult to turn the gun from the horizontal to point toward the back of the van in the tiny space available.
“Cover your ears!” I shouted. Ray obliged. Julie was driving and I just hoped that she had put her plugs in, otherwise the blast from the Coke-can-sized muzzle brake on the end of the .50 BMG was probably going to blow her drums out.
The Ultramag 50 was equipped with a 10X scope for precision fire at extended ranges. It had not been designed to be used inside the confines of a moving vehicle. I stuck the butt stock under my armpit and pointed the muzzle in the direction of the gargoyle. At this range the barrel was halfway there.
BOOOOM!
If the windows had not already been shattered, I had no doubt that the concussion of the 750-grain bullet would have done the job. The enormous slug impacted the monster at nearly 2,800 feet per second. Stone fragments imbedded themselves into the seats, hot fluid sprayed the interior of the van, and I yelped in pain as some splashed on my unprotected arm. The backseats caught on fire. The gargoyle flinched as the massive chunk was torn violently from its arm. It did not, however, let go.
“Get off my van!” I had four more where that came from. I worked the heavy bolt, ejecting the smoking brass case and shoving another huge armor-piercing round into the chamber. I elevated the muzzle slightly and fired again. The gargoyle fell from the van as the second bullet pulverized its face. It pulled the rear doors clean off of their hinges. Monster and metal fell, clanking and clattering down the asphalt, pieces flying everywhere. We kept accelerating.
“Damn! That was loud!” Ray exclaimed.
“Julie, are you okay?” I shouted.
“Fine. Hang on.” She pumped the brakes, and somehow managed to keep the van on the road as we careened around a corner. The van was not a sports car, but it did manage to stay on all four tires. She accelerated out of the turn. “If I can build up speed I can lose them, but the roads are too curvy. If I push it we’ll end up in the trees.”
“Is there a straightaway around here somewhere?”
“Son, you’re in rural Alabama. Just how many straight roads do you think you’re gonna find?” Ray asked rhetorically.
I swore, climbed over the center seat, and positioned myself in the back cargo space. I scanned the skies through our new gargoyle-supplied sunroof.
“I don’t see them,” I shouted over the roar of the wind. I held on as Julie slalomed our boxlike van around another bend. “Ray, pass me that OD green case. The stubby one,” I ordered. If we couldn’t outrun them, we would outfight them. I spotted a huge black spot in the clear sky, heading right for us.
There had to be some sort of explanation for how the creatures were able to fly so fast. They were huge. They were heavy. But they flew like birds. When this one folded its wings and dived, it came out of the sun like a Stuka dive bomber. I yelled a warning as I planted the rifle against my shoulder. The .50 weighed thirty-two pounds, most of that towards the muzzle. It was designed to be fired from a prone position with a bipod. I was about to use it while kneeling in the back of a wildly moving vehicle. Not the best recipe for success.
Julie shouted something, and I was flung against the wall. I lost my balance and almost fell out the open rear of the van. Pavement rushed by, painted lines and a trail of fluid leaking from our damaged radiator, all a foot under my face. I scrambled to grab onto something. An air horn blew in protest as Julie swung us beside a loaded logging truck. We were in thick forest on a curving hillside road. This was not a good place to be stuck trying to pass somebody. If another truck came around the bend, we were going to be road pizza.
I pulled the heavy weapon up, searching for the diving gargoyle. I spotted it above us, losing altitude quickly. I snapped the rifle to my shoulder, struggling to find the creature in the narrow field of view of the scope. One of the world’s most powerful sniper rifles had never been meant to be used like a skeet gun. I shot. Missed. Worked the bolt. Shot. Missed. The recoil pounded me each time, but I did not have time to notice. Last shot. The creature was larger now, looming above the logging truck and heading our way. It spread its wings to control its descent, aimed directly at us. It flashed black through the scope, I raised the muzzle and let the heavy weight bring it down. I fired as something darker than sky filled the lens.
The .50 BMG did a real number on the gargoyle’s wing. A hole appeared in the stone membrane, molten stone splashed as one wing dipped and the creature crashed onto the top of the logs. The heavy chains kept the load in place. It lashed out with its talons, sinking them deep into the wood, and anchoring itself to keep from falling. Blank eyes locked onto our van, and it immediately began to slink toward us.
I dropped the now-empty rifle to the floor, reached around to take the green soft case from Ray. He was one step ahead of me. He had removed Abomination and held it out for me to grab. The gargoyle was moving, ready to leap onto our van. Julie was trying to get away, but the truck was swerving in panic. We were in range of the gargoyle. I reached forward and pulled the heavy trigger on the under-slung grenade launcher. My aim was a little off. The 40mm shell struck under the gargoyle, but it was close enough. The explosion was more of a muted thump, turning green logs into kindling, and snapping heavy safety chains. The gargoyle fell back, hanging onto the load now by one talon.
The trucker laid on the horn, confused by our gunfire and whatever the hell was landing on his trailer. Julie had not been able to pass on the narrow, curvy road. The driver must have decided we were the threat, because the truck drifted into our path. Julie would have made a great NASCAR racer; she braked, dodged the trailer, then took us onto the shoulder and partway into the grass to avoid the oncoming tons of steel and wood. The van thumped and rattled over the ruts and potholes. An unfortunate armadillo blundered into our path and was sent on its way to armadillo nirvana.
Unfortunately our loss of speed put us right next to the gargoyle clinging to the trailer. It launched itself, smashing into our van with the force of a car wreck. I lost my balance and flopped about in the cargo area. Claws pierced through the side wall as the gargoyle latched on. I shouted for another grenade and Ray thumbed through the case. When he found one of the yellow-painted shells he handed it over. I could not use the grenade against a target so close, and the shotgun shells would be virtually useless. The van swerved back onto the road behind the weaving trailer. Julie looked in the mirror, saw me loading the grenade and shouted something.
“What?” The grenade clicked into place. Farmland and forest flashed by. One stone arm came searching for us, tearing through the van like it was made of tinfoil, ripping through the still-smoking center seat and sending foam bits into the rushing wind. Ray pushed himself as far away as he could without falling out the opening where our sliding door had been.
“Hang on!” She stepped on it, and we pulled behind the accelerating semi. She timed it perfectly, waiting for the end of the trailer to sweep past, red-flagged log ends only feet from her open windshield. The van pulled alongside the rear of the trailer, and Julie swerved toward it. She was going to attempt to scrape the gargoyle off. I pushed myself against the far wall as claws swept past. The arm was still stained with red. It was the gargoyle who had gotten poor crazy Barney. The van shook as Julie played bumper cars with the eighteen-wheeler.
Ray looked at me with wild eyes. “I taught her how to drive,” he said.
Julie leaned on the wheel, forcing the gargoyle into the rear set of trail
er tires. The van screamed in protest. Truck tires popped in a moving cloud of smoke and rubber. The giant claws were sucked away from my face as the gargoyle was pulled and partially crushed under the trailer. Much of our van was peeled away with it. We swerved from the trailer, back onto the shoulder, but then back again as our monster-side tires blew and sent us out of control. Somehow the gargoyle was still hanging on. Chains snapped and logs spilled onto the narrow road.
For an instant, time seemed to stand still as we tilted, then it sped forward as we rolled onto our side in a fury of sparks and tearing metal. I fell as down changed to sideways. Somehow I managed to hold onto the back seat for dear life, a torn opening gaping below me, hard pavement flashing by.
Luckily we only rolled onto our side and no further. The van gradually slowed as our remaining energy was spent against the pavement. The seat cushion tore in my grasp and I slipped from safety.
Crying out, I fell through the gap and onto the road. Rolling, pain, tearing, everything a wild flashing of movement, cracking myself against the pavement and leaving inches of skin behind. I slid and flopped to a wet stop.
I lay there in the road.
It hurt to think.
Excruciating agony. I looked at my hands. Blood. All down my arms, a bloody road rash. Bits of gravel were embedded deep into my skin. I tried to sit up. I realized that my clothing hung in ragged tatters, torn away by the gripping pavement.
“Son of a bitch! Worthless fucking monster bastard asshole!” Blood splattered as I shook my fist in the air. I forced myself to stand. Grimacing against the road rash, I stumbled down the road. The van was thirty feet away, resting on its side. The logging truck disappeared around the bend, torn tires flopping madly. The driver was no doubt glad to be away from the crazy people who had been shooting at his load. A few huge logs lay splintered, blocking the way. A tranquil and cozy farmhouse stood a hundred yards to our side, behind a small pen full of goats. I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. I had to reach the van. There was still one uninjured gargoyle somewhere and I was fresh out of big guns.
The Monster Hunters Page 27
