Monsters: The Ashes Trilogy

by Ilsa J. Bick

  “Sit up!” Tom roared. “Get up, Chris, sit—”

  The crack of a shot, not from Tom but to their right. The high zing of a bullet ricocheting off a tree. Bellowing, Jarvis fired again. This time, a Changed boy staggered as a red sunburst suddenly flared over his right breast. The line didn’t exactly falter, but some Changed peeled off, heading for Jarvis, and that gave Chris the precious two seconds he needed to slot his foot into his stirrup.

  “All right, come on!” Tom shouted. Wheeling, they kicked their horses to a run and bulleted into the trees, heading back for Rule’s center three miles in their future.

  It wasn’t a mistake, but Chris snagged one last look. Two Changed had their arms around the still-bellowing Jarvis. The three danced a drunken pirouette. Then another Changed joined in, and then more and more, and then Jarvis wasn’t bellowing but screeching, the Changed boiling over him the way ants devoured prey, and there was blood, so much of it.

  And more to come because it’s the end of the world. Chris faced forward. His eyes stung. His cheeks were wet, and he didn’t think that was only blood. It’s the end, it’s the end, it’s the end.

  113

  “Get away from the edge! Get away from the edge of the wagon!” Ellie shouted, but no one was listening; everyone was shrieking, kids twisting this way and that to see. It was like a disaster movie where the Martians suddenly busted up and everyone turned to scared rabbits, all big eyes and open mouths, right before the Martians blasted them from their clothes.

  “Move, get up!” Snatching her Savage by the barrel, she sprang to her feet, cocking the weapon like a T-ball bat just as a hand hooked onto the wagon behind the elfish boy who wanted to fish. “Get out of the way!” she screamed, and brought the stock hammering down.

  The people-eater bawled as its knuckles split wide open. As the boy—was that a boy under all that hair?—gawped up in surprise and pain, she punched his face with the butt. Toppling, the people-eater tumbled into two others, the three going down like bowling pins.

  Oh boy, we are in so much trouble. Around her legs, the growling dogs were jostling, trying to wedge together in a wall of balled muscles and bared teeth. In front on the driver’s box, Lucian was on his feet. Racking his shotgun’s pump, Lucian boomed out a shot, and suddenly, a girl was missing her head, twin ropes of blood still pulsing because the heart hadn’t yet got the message. Banging out shots with an enormous, bucking black pistol, Sarah was hitting absolutely nothing, only driving the swarm back with the sheer volume of fire. How long could she keep it up, though? Ellie knew they didn’t have a lot of ammo. The way Sarah was running through that clip, unless she had a couple spare magazines …

  Maybe Lucian figured out the same thing at the exact same instant: that Sarah was only wasting bullets. That if he wanted to hang on to his creepy scalp, he better book. All of a sudden, Lucian bent, scooped up a pack, hitched it over his shoulder, butted away one people-eater, booted another in the face, and leapt from the box.

  “Wait! You have my bullets!” Ellie shouted as Lucian hit the ground and sprinted for the far trees. In the thick tangle of brush and low-hanging boughs, she lost sight of him almost immediately. Not one people-eater followed, probably because there were all these tasty kids.

  Now what? All around, kids were still screaming and only sitting as the dogs tried surging to her left where the majority of the people-eaters were. If the kids would just let the dogs through! Grabbing the elfish boy by the shoulder, Ellie tugged. “Get behind me, get behind the dogs!” she shouted.

  The kid threw her a wild, open-mouthed stare. For a second, she thought she’d gotten through, but then he scrambled in the exact wrong direction, for the driver’s box. A flat-faced people-eater with only half a nose suddenly reared up. Shrieking, the elfish boy got an arm up. Half-Nose latched a hand and yanked. Jackknifing, the elfish boy managed to butt his free hand against the wagon. For an instant, he swayed, facedown, like a poorly balanced teeter-totter.

  “Sarah!” Ellie shouted as Half-Nose drew back for a strike. “Sarah, behind you!” Pivoting, Sarah jabbed that enormous pistol at Half-Nose, squeezed the trigger—and nothing, out of ammo, completely dry. The elfish boy bawled a blood-curdling scream as Half-Nose locked his jaws on the back of the boy’s neck, right around his spine. A moment later, the elfish boy, still kicking, flipped out of sight.

  “Noooo!” Blinking back tears, Ellie turned, started swinging blindly, cutting an arc, miserably aware that it was only a matter of time before a people-eater wrested away the Savage or another got in under a swing. Slow down, slow down; pick a target; you’ll get tired and then they’ll get you. She forced herself to wait, let the dogs protect her. Jet and Ghost, the largest, stood hip to hip, snapping whenever a people-eater got close. Crowding to the front, Mina was pressing her rump against Ellie to herd her back, except the little white-haired girl was cowering behind Ellie’s legs. Caught in a sandwich of dog and little girl, Ellie felt her balance start to go. No, no! If she fell, she might not be able to get back up in time.

  “Mina, hold!” She could barely hear herself over the din: screaming kids and barking dogs and braying horses. Shots spackled and popped as the very few kids with guns fired. But they had no room to maneuver, and their aim was wild.

  In Jayden’s wagon, a people-eater, bat in hand, vaulted onto the driver’s box. Jayden ducked as the bat whizzed. Long gun socked to his shoulder, the doctor with the eye patch bellowed something—maybe stay down or don’t move—and then a spume of bright yellow muzzle flash leapt. The people-eater’s arms shot out in a surprised way, like Wile E. Coyote, and tumbled off. At the rear, two more people-eaters, all arms and legs and clubs, scrambled onto the flatbed. One launched itself into shrieking children like a diver from a high platform. As the golden retriever, Daisy, and three other dogs converged, kids spilled over the sides of the wagon: their only move, and a terrible one, like buffalo being driven from a cliff.

  Where are the guys on the horses, Aidan and Sam, where are they?

  A scream, far back. Ellie whipped around. Greg’s horse was trying to spin free from the four people-eaters grabbing at Greg’s legs and the reins. Three more swarmed onto the driver’s box of the third wagon. The driver, a girl with a long brown braid down to her waist, shrieked again as a lanky boy, with a duster like Neo’s in The Matrix, whipped the braid around the girl’s neck. Bucking, eyes buggy, the girl heaved and flopped like a fish slowly suffocating in the bottom of a boat. Balling a fist, the Neo Kid smashed the girl’s face as a second people-eater, a ratty boy in fire-engine-red snow pants, leapt onto the thrashing girl. His head darted for her neck like a scorpion stabbing its stinger. Blood spewed; Rat Boy came up with a chunk of meat in his mouth. Bawling, the wagon’s horse reared in a clash of hooves and spurted forward.

  The wagon did Greg a favor, and them none. As the wagon hurtled on, the people-eaters clinging to Greg’s horse scattered; one scrawny kid slipped with a shriek that cut out as a wheel sliced his gut. Greg’s horse danced away onto a narrow ribbon of road along the tree line. Hunkered low on the animal’s withers, Greg ducked as low-lying branches whirred over his head. Still on the driver’s box, Neo Kid and Rat Boy staggered, then turned as the distance between them and Ellie’s wagon dwindled.

  Watching the horse charge and the wagon swell, Ellie had six seconds: one to be paralyzed; two to understand that a collision was inevitable and that either the horse would stampede its way onto their flatbed or come to a sudden screeching stop, catapulting Neo Kid and Rat Boy into their wagon, where the two would find not only dogs to fight but lots of new things to eat. In the last three seconds, Ellie knew she’d better do something, or she was a goner.

  “Mina, release! Out of the wagon!” Snatching the white-haired girl’s hand, Ellie took the width of the flatbed in two huge strides. “Get out get out get out!”

  114

  The village square was completely empty. Racing past the gazebo, Tom and Chris pulled up at the northwest corner be
tween the village hall and church. Dismounting before the dun mare had come to a complete stop, Tom snatched Night’s reins before Chris could swing down.

  “No.” Tom’s face was pinched. Clutching his wounded, still-oozing thigh just above the protruding bit of metal, he said, hoarsely, “Not you.”

  “What? No, I’m fine now.” From the open doors of the church came the rise and fall of a hymn, but the bell was silent. “You shouldn’t climb with that leg. I’ll take the bell tower, you do the jail, and—”

  “No.” Tom backhanded sweat from a glassy upper lip. “You can’t be part of this.”

  “What?” Despite Tom’s admonition, Chris dismounted. “Tom, what are you doing?”

  “Someone has to stay behind,” Tom said. “We both know that.”

  “No, I don’t know that.” He grabbed Tom’s shoulders. “Are you crazy? They’ll be here. The bombs are on timers, for God’s sake. So why?”

  “Because if something goes wrong, I’m the only one who knows what to do.”

  “Tom. If you stay, you’ll die. They’ll catch you.”

  “They won’t. I’ll stay out of sight. Babysit those honeys until the last second.” Tom laid a hand over one of his. “Chris, please, there’s no time. Don’t make this harder for both of us. If the bombs don’t blow, all this will be wasted. Those people in that church will die for nothing.”

  “They’ll die anyway.” His eyes were starting to sting. “They made their choice.”

  “And this is mine. Chris, I have to. This way, I buy you time. We stop Finn’s Changed. We stop Finn. Then the children, yours and mine, will be safe.”

  “We don’t know if we got yours yet. If we didn’t—”

  “Then we tried. If you can, you find them. Look, we both know the threat doesn’t end here. There are way more Changed than us. But this way, you guys have a chance.”

  “Please, Tom.” His eyes brimmed. “You saved my life, twice. Please, please, don’t stay here. Set the bombs and come with me.”

  “I can’t, Chris.” Tom cupped the back of Chris’s neck. “Come on, man, please. This is hard enough. Believe me, I don’t want to die. There’s Ellie, and Alex is still out there, I feel it; I should never have lost faith, because she’s strong; she won’t quit. But I have to do this for my people—”

  From the north, and not far away at all, in fact, there came the faint but unmistakable sputter and spackle of gunfire.

  “Oh God.” Chris felt his heart seize. “Tom, that’s got to be the wagons.”

  “More Changed? But how?” Tom’s skin was whiter than bone. “Finn’s south.”

  “I don’t know, but we got to go. Come on!” When Tom didn’t move, Chris clutched his arm. “Tom, they need us!”

  “Chris, I … I can’t. Damn it, I …” Shrugging off the Uzi’s carry strap, Tom threw the bolt, then clicked the safety and thrust out the weapon. “Selector switch,” Tom said, pointing. “One- or three-shot bursts. For God’s sake, don’t go full auto or you’ll be dry in four seconds.”

  “Tom, no, I can’t—”

  “Yes, Chris, you can. You have to, just like I have to stay. There’s no other way. You can do this.” Tom was slapping two spare mags into Chris’s hands. “Keep count, pick your shots, be careful, don’t lose your head. You got forty rounds in each clip and there are thirty-one left in the mag you got, one in the chamber already. You have plenty of firepower, and you’re silenced. Huge advantage. They won’t know you’re there until you’re on top of them. The kids are close, Chris. You can be there in minutes if you move fast, but you have to leave right now.”

  “But Tom, the kids, they need help—”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Tom grabbed Chris and shook him. His strange and smoky blue eyes blazed with fury and frustration. The cords, taut as steel, stood in his neck. “Don’t you know this is killing me? Ellie is out there, but Finn is going to be here, and there is no choice and we are out of time! Now, stop arguing and go before it’s too late!”

  He knew he had to do it. “Goddamn you,” Chris said. Instead of batting Tom’s hand away, he pulled Tom into a fast and ferocious hug. Then, without another word, he broke away and charged for Night, flinging himself up onto the saddle. He cut one last look: not at Rule but Tom, so strong and ready to sacrifice it all because, when there was no other way, that’s what you did to keep your people safe.

  “Go, Chris,” Tom said.

  Kicking Night to a gallop, Chris spun his horse and thundered away.

  115

  The charging wagon was three seconds away … and now the people-eaters milling around theirs saw the danger, broke, fell back … and then there were two seconds and the animals were spilling out …

  Not pausing to see if anyone followed, Ellie planted her right boot, then flung herself and the white-haired girl in a high and long arc. The little girl was shrieking, the sound sharp as a nail. Ellie landed with a solid thump. The little girl barreled into her a second later, driving Ellie’s chin into the ground. Her mouth fired with a dart of red pain.

  There was a huge, splintering crash as the out-of-control horse slammed into the back end of their flatbed. Gasping, blood on her tongue, Ellie craned back. Braying, the horse clattered sideways, trying to work its way around the stalled wagon. Shrieking children foamed over the sides. Something shifted in the supply wagon, or perhaps an axle snagged, because all of a sudden the wagon tipped, dragging down the thrashing horse. Cardboard boxes and packs tumbled out. Many burst, and then people-eaters, who’d scattered just before the collision, closed ranks. As Mina bolted to her side, Jet, Ghost, and four other dogs boiled around the other kids, snarling and snapping, trying to keep the people-eaters at bay. Only Sarah remained on the now-empty wagon, still clinging to the driver’s box, a curtain of hair over her face, empty pistol in one hand.

  “Sarah!” Sweeping up her Savage, Ellie scrambled to her feet. “Sarah, get off the wagon, come on!”

  Dazed, the older girl pulled her head around as if swimming through a sticky dream and then half jumped, half fell from the driver’s box. A gangly, bucktoothed people-eater swooped in from the left and closed fast. Sarah saw it coming and froze.

  “No, Sarah, don’t stop! Keep running!” Ellie screamed. “Keep—”

  From her right came the crack of a shot. A scarlet blossom flowered over Bucktooth’s back. The people-eater crashed to the road in a spectacular belly flop a foot shy of where Sarah still cringed. Greg dashed from the trees, on foot, three kids in tow: “Sarah, grab the kids, grab the kids! Get behind the dogs!”

  Part of Ellie wanted to go back to the older kids, to Greg and Jayden. But right now, she and the white-haired girl hadn’t been noticed, and that would change. Even with Mina, they were too exposed. But she remembered how quickly Lucian had been lost from sight. Get far enough, fast enough, and hide until Tom and Chris get here. The wagons hadn’t made great time, and that meant they weren’t that far from Rule. So Tom would hear the shots, and he’d come really fast. She wouldn’t have to hide for very long.

  “Come on,” she said to the white-haired girl, still sprawled on the ground.

  “But my dolly!” The little white-haired girl was bawling. From the ruby smear on her lower lip, she must’ve bitten her tongue, too. “My dolly, I lost my doll!”

  “Forget the stupid doll! Mina!” Slinging the Savage’s carry strap on her shoulder, Ellie wheeled and tugged the little girl along in a stumbling run through spare snow. There was no clear path; she was bushwhacking through dense undergrowth that snagged and grabbed at her legs. The little girl was stumbling and gasping, “Wait, wait, wait,” but Ellie didn’t slow down, didn’t reply, just kept on going. Spiky branches whipped her cheeks and stung her forehead, snarled in her hair. Mina had pulled ahead by several paces, and Ellie followed her dog, thrashing through briary brush still crinkly with ice. She didn’t like that she was making so much noise. If they could get somewhere safe and hide … Behind were shouts and gunshots and bray
ing horses, but the sounds were fast diminishing, as noise always died in dense forest. She would have to be careful not to lose the road entirely, because Tom and Chris would eventually come. If they could. If those explosions didn’t mean that they—

  Stop it, Ellie, stop it. Putting up one arm to protect her eyes, Ellie put her head down and plowed through, forcing a way where none existed. Tom will come. So will Chris. Jayden is already here, and so is Greg. All you have to do is hide.

  “Ah!” The little girl let out a pained cry. “Stop, stop! I’m stuck, I’m stuck!”

  “Quiet!” Ellie hissed. Only people talk, you dummy; you want someone to hear? Impatient and scared out of her wits, Ellie saw that the twisted fingers of thorny brambles clutched the little girl’s hair at the crown in a dense tangle. “Okay, hang on,” Ellie muttered, unlimbering the Savage. “Just hold still.”

  “Owowow!” the white-haired girl complained as Ellie fussed with the snarl. Squinting, the girl bared her teeth. “That hurts!”

  “Well, it’s really tangled,” Ellie said, so beside herself with fear, she thought about just going already. Wincing against the sting of thorns, she fumbled over the ratty tangle. She glanced at her dog. Ears perked, mouth closed, nostrils flared—but no real alert. That was good. But this stupid tangle just wouldn’t come. Tugging her Leek from her pocket, she snicked the silver-gray serrated blade in place with her thumb.

  The little girl’s eyes were saucers. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m cutting it.”

  “Why? No.”

  Ellie opened her mouth to yell, then said, “I’m Ellie. What’s your name?”