The two beasts continued their charge, stamping over picnic baskets and shattering place-settings. Kevin approached the hunters; a pained, hopeless look was cast on Cunningham’s face. As the Rhino-pards stampeded toward a crowd of fleeing park goers, the beats lowered their heads and readied the fierce horns.
Cunningham looked at Niles in desperation. Kevin understood the situation was dire. A missed shot with the big bore rifles could kill someone by accident. The Rhino-pards were closing in fast.
The hunters dropped to their knees and raised the rifles.
The creatures were swift and quickly ran among the crowd. They tilted their heads from side to side, piercing the deadly horns into people. They cast the wounded prey to the side, and quickly set their sights on another, trampling over fallen bodies.
The Rhino-pards cleared through the crowd angling to circle back. Cunningham and Niles shouldered the rifles and took aim. They now had clear shots at the beasts without endangering the throng of fleeing pedestrians.
Until the 10th Hussars rushed in on horseback, galloping between the beasts and the crowd. The mounted soldiers blocked the beasts from Cunningham and Niles. A flurry of commotion disrupted the hunt.
“Blazes!” Cunningham stood and threw his hat on the ground.
“This isn’t going to be pretty,” Niles said, shaking his head. “They’ve no idea of what these beasts are capable of.”
“The 10th Hussars will ruin this opportunity,” Cunningham shouted. “Absolutely ruin our chances here.”
Niles shook his head again as Kevin caught up with them. Both of the hunters had grave looks on their faces, watching the fracas in the distance. The park goers came to a standstill, almost corralled behind the cavalry.
As the Rhino-pards came around, and squared off against the 10th Hussars, the soldiers readied their Lee-Enfield rifles. They shouldered the brown stocks and worked the bolts to chamber the first round. Kevin knew they held repeating rifles with ten rounds in each magazine. He figured the soldiers could deter the beasts if they got assembled in time.
Horses pranced and bayed, as the soldiers steadied the line. Their commanding officer sat proudly in his saddle, brandishing a cutlass. “Steady!” he shouted. “Steady, now!”
The Rhino-pards sized up the 10th Hussars. The pause took long enough for the soldiers to get into formation. They lined up gloriously. Each horse stood planted side by side, while the soldiers pressed their boots into the stirrups and leveled their rifles.
Cunningham turned to Niles and Kevin lifting his eyebrows. “We might not be out of this yet. Come, we’ll set up a defensive position.”
As the three of them ran to a point behind the crowd of pedestrians, the Rhino-pards snorted and began to charge. They drove headlong into the line of horses. The Enfield rifles cracked off powerful .303 rounds, but the bullets registered little impact on the beasts.
Feline ears pinned back and sharp horns ready to strike, the Rhino-pards charged at the center of the line. Horses reared. A few horsemen were thrown to the ground. Rifles continued to fire and spent gunpowder wafted through the air.
The beasts broke through the line and rushed at scattering pedestrians.
Tilting their heads down, the Rhino-pards thrust their horns into the helpless prey. Blood splattered as people were impaled and trampled. The lead Rhino-pard thrashed its muzzle, gnawing on flailing arms and legs, sinking its fangs into the fallen. The skirmish had turned into a slaughter. Soldiers fired weapons that didn’t affect the Rhino-pards, and park goers stood little chance of survival.
Soon, the creatures tore through the crowd. They pounded the grass, kicking dirt and dust into the air, while circling around to make another pass.
Cunningham and Niles dropped to a knee, shouldered their rifles, and flicked off their safeties. Without speaking, Cunningham aimed at the Rhino-pard in the lead, and Niles sighted in on the other.
Each big bore rifle let out a powerful- KABOOM. The Weatherby bullet hit the shoulder of the lead Rhino-pard and the Gibbs shot a round into the side of its companion. Kevin noticed the shoulder dip slightly after the lead beast got hit. The other creature reflected a mild discomfort at the shot into its hide. As the hunters steadied their rifles to squeeze off another round, the beasts turned to face them.
The creature in the lead had crimson smeared around its mouth. The Rhino-pards snorted and shook their heads, snapping their chins toward the ground in defiance. The lead beast clawed the ground, sending a clump of grass flying. The other gave the earth a quick swipe. Then they charged, building up steam, marking their pursuit.
Cunningham held his breath and took steady aim. KABOOM! The Weatherby sent a round into the opposite shoulder of the lead Rhino-pard. Niles fired the Gibbs and hit the trailing Rhino-pard in a shoulder. The rifle blasts rung Kevin’s ears. He could barely hear Cunningham, but caught a mumbled: “Go for the same shoulder.”
The hunters fired again. Rounds hit home, sinking into the wounded shoulders. A greenish fluid oozed from the marred shoulder of the lead Rhino-pard. The beast’s gait let up. The rifle shots impeded the attack, but the creatures continued a staggered charge at the hunters.
“Fire again!” Cunningham wailed.
The beasts closed in fast. Heavy feet thumped over the grass and fierce determination shone in their golden eyes.
“They’re coming!” Cunningham shouted.
Niles had trouble with his bolt. A round popped up slightly crooked, failing to chamber. The Weatherby let out another loud crack. Cunningham hit the lead Rhino-pard in the same shoulder a third time. The right front leg wavered as though the creature might drop.
The Rhino-pards closed within ten paces. By the time Niles got his next round chambered, the Rhino-pards were upon them.
Shoulder wounds impaired the lead beast, causing it to stumble. It cantered to the side of the Great Hunter. The Rhino-pard thundered past Cunningham, a gust blowing his hair and mustache. A haunch collided with Kevin and sent him soaring into the air.
He landed on the ground, catching a glimpse of the other Rhino-pard. The beast drove headlong into Niles. Its horn caught under the hunter’s abdomen and flung him upward. Niles hurled through the air and fell on the grass in a crumpled ball.
The beasts circled around for another strike. But the 10th Hussars rushed upon the scene with Enfield rifles blazing. The Rhino-pards trampled off, making a final sweep through the melee. Biting into limbs, the beasts snatched up fallen pedestrians, then dragged off their spoils toward the wood line.
Dazed, Kevin watched in awe as the creatures’ hind ends slipped into dense foliage and out of sight.
Chapter Thirteen
Lying in the grass, Kevin felt lightheaded, and disoriented. Commotion nearby sounded muffled, surreal. He glanced up. Through foggy vision, he saw soldiers tending to the wounded. The macabre scene resembled a battlefield, similar to images of frontline troops decimated by cannon fire.
He looked over at Niles, crumpled in the grass. Blood splattered the hunter’s tan shooting jacket. Cunningham knelt by his fallen comrade, looking sullen.
Kevin rose and approached them meekly. He didn’t want to intrude at a delicate time, so he stood a few meters away. The situation looked grim. Both hunters had served together in combat and on hunting expeditions for decades. Anguish exuded from Cunningham’s eyes.
“Don’t think I’m going to pull through on this one,” Niles muttered.
“Rubbish,” Cunningham retorted. “Absolute rubbish!”
Niles smiled gently. “I’m afraid so. The beast really did a number on me. My insides are broken up for sure.”
Cunningham shook his head solemnly. He noticed Kevin for the first time, and locked eyes with the young gun bearer. Reproach gleamed from the Great Hunter’s stare. Kevin wondered if Cunningham blamed him for the incident.
Maybe he thought the rounds hadn’t been loaded correctly, or dirt had gotten on a cartridge and prevented it from chambering properly. Either way, Niles
hadn’t been able to get a shot off, and the Rhino-pard trampled him. Kevin had been the gun bearer.
After a moment, Kevin snatched the Gibbs from the ground and took off toward the wood line.
“Wait, lad,” Cunningham bellowed. “It’s too risky!”
“Don’t worry about me,” Kevin called over his shoulder. “Take care of Niles, and I’ll be back later.”
Entering the woods, Kevin immediately picked up their trail. The beasts had obviously trampled over the same ground a number of times. A distinct path led through the brush. He figured an access point was nearby.
Pieces of bloodied clothing had snagged on branches. It didn’t take an experienced hunter to track the creatures through the woods. Kevin’s boots squished into muddy ground. A rivulet ran across the path, so he figured a pipe opening lay ahead.
Kevin worked the bolt chambering a round, and then he wrapped the sling tightly around his left forearm. He stepped carefully over the dried pine needles and scanned for the beasts. For some reason, he didn’t put it past them to linger in the dense brush, waiting to pounce on whoever approached the entrance to their den.
The sloshing of his boots over muddy terrain sent a shiver through his body. Kevin expected a Rhino-pard to hear his approach and charge. A twig snapped. Panic raced through his veins.
Beginning to question why he’d ventured out alone, Kevin saw sunlight reflecting off the steel access pipe. Metal grating, twisted, was flung open from the mouth of the pipe.
****
Stepping inside, Kevin began to reconsider the wisdom of his pursuit. Light only cast into the pipeline five to six meters. The pipe had been inserted into an antiquated brick passageway approximately half of that distance.
He paused, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness. Everything beyond the span of daylight remained black. Kevin moved a little further into the tunnel, but still couldn’t see anything beyond a ten-meter arc of daylight. The Rhino-pards could be lying in wait, lurking in the shadows.
Kevin treaded forward carefully. His boots sloshed in six centimeters of water, running through the tunnel. The noise caused him to halt abruptly. Listening for the sound of Rhino-pard feet splashing, he only heard an occasional drip; it was the sound of groundwater meandering into crevices in the old mortar. Otherwise, the catacombs remained silent.
He listened again for thuds of massive feet pounding through the tunnel. Kevin craned his neck trying to hear snorts, or heavy breathing from the beasts. Nothing. The tunnel remained still, except for the intermittent drips. He held the Gibbs with the safety off, ready to fire.
Moving ahead, he nervously stepped from the demarcation of daylight into blackness. Kevin’s eyes took a moment to adjust. Nothing jumped out at him. And he soon realized that only an empty tunnel lay ahead.
An intersecting passageway lay five meters ahead. Kevin shouldered the rifle and slowly approached.
He reached the intersecting tunnel, pausing to look around. The passageway had become darker. Turning down either side tunnel would immediately lead to pitch blackness. Kevin eased against a tunnel wall and then stepped around a corner.
The area was clear of the beasts. He could see less than three meters away and realized the expedition was hindered without a lantern. Kevin slumped regretfully and turned to leave, his boots kicking up water.
Splashing echoed through the catacombs.
More splashes, heavy and close by, caused him to stop. Then, a paw shot from the darkness and struck him in the back. He flew forward and crashed to the deck. The Gibbs fell from his hands. Kevin scrambled for the rifle, but met a set of menacing golden eyes.
He froze, locking glances with yellow orbs, peering through the darkness. The Rhino-pard roared and swatted the rifle away.
Long fangs shown in the scant light, dripping saliva, as the creature slinked its massive bulk closer. Kevin squirmed away, kicking his legs and pedaling his arms.
The Rhino-pard slowly eased forward, toying with its prey. Kevin felt helpless, as though flight was meager and futile.
As the beast moved closer, Kevin smelt its fetid breath. The stench of its victims drifted through the tunnel. Kevin wormed away from the creature, until a paw pressed down on his ankle. Smears of crimson stained the fur around its mouth.
Pain shot into his leg from the weight of the creature. Kevin tried to wiggle his foot free, but the beast had him pinned. A mere slight pressing on his lower leg had completely immobilized him. The Rhino-pard almost seemed to wink sardonically.
An ache in his back reminded Kevin of the Ray-gun. He reached around to the rear of his trousers and extracted the weapon. Holding the bizarre gun, futuristic, but antiquated, he now feared it being only a toy.
Fumbling to find a safety, Kevin knew he had little time. The beast canted its massive head. The horn tilted and the feline eyes blinked, almost nervously.
The creature snorted and let out a roar.
Panic raced through Kevin’s body. He couldn’t find any sign of a safety mechanism. The Rhino-pard tensed and leapt into the air.
Kevin pointed the Ray-gun at the beast.
He squeezed the trigger.
A red beam shot from the barrel, striking the beast in the chest. Kevin rolled to the side. The Rhino-pard yowled in pain, splashing into the water as it landed hard next to him.
Kevin backpedaled from the fallen creature. The beast winced, trying to get its bearings. Turning its head toward Kevin, the Rhino-pard let out a growling hiss, then rose to its feet on shaking legs. The beast slinked forward a couple of steps, gently stalking its prey. Kevin knew that it would attack again.
He pointed the Ray-gun at the creature, but feared pulling the trigger. Another painful blow might send the beast into a bloody tirade.
The Rhino-pard lunged without warning.
Firing the Ray-gun, he shot another beam of red light into the beast’s chest. Then, he got off another blast, hitting the wounded shoulder. The Rhino-pard wailed in pain. Stopping in its tracks, the beast snorted, and slowly backed away.
Kevin held the Ray-gun ready to fire again. He didn’t think the gun would drop the beast if it charged; it would maul him to death, so he remained still, watching it retreat.
Soon, the beast backed out of sight. Kevin stared into the darkness, worried that its companion would step forth. He didn’t waste any time. Sticking the Ray-gun into his trousers, Kevin scooped up the Gibbs and darted for the access pipe.
He reached daylight and sprinted into the woods. Kevin made it partway down the path and tripped on a root. He fell, cracking his head on a rock. Vision blurring, he nestled on a bed of pine needles, and lost consciousness.
Chapter Fourteen
Sarah sat in a wing chair listening to Cunningham, as Kevin lay on the floor sound asleep. He eventually stirred from his slumbers. Awaking to a crackling fire and light banter, Kevin lifted his head from a stupor. His body clearly ached and his vision seemed blurry. He squinted and glanced around looking dumbfounded, as though it took him a moment to realize they were back at the quarters.
Kevin was strewn on a bedroll with his head nestled into Cunningham’s gear. He glanced toward her Victorian dress, draping from a wingchair; he looked up at Sarah, appearing as though her presence comforted him.
“Look who has finally joined us,” Cunningham quipped.
Laughter spread throughout the room. “He’s been a tired boy,” Sarah said. “You must not keep him engaged for prolonged periods of time.”
“Afraid we tired the lad out today,” Cunningham admitted.
Kevin seemed puzzled at not finding a melancholy crew. Instead, they were a jovial bunch carrying on as though tragedy hadn’t forsaken them. Then, he seemed to sense a nervous hesitation to their comments, as though trying to cope with a horrible situation. He sat up slightly and glanced at Cunningham holding a glass of whiskey.
The Great Hunter caught Kevin glancing at the whiskey. Cunningham perused his Old-Fashioned glass and shrugged. “Suppose that you
should have one of these as well,” said Cunningham.
“What about Niles?” Kevin rebuked. “We can’t just sit around laughing and drinking whiskey.”
“Why, Niles has his own glass,” Cunningham chuckled.
Kevin froze and peered out of the corner of his eye. The other hunter lay strewn across the Chippendale sofa. A pillow propped him up enough to imbibe in the colonial spirits. He held his glass up to Kevin and smiled. “Cheers!”
Sarah noticed Kevin’s eyes growing wide. Everyone laughed and sipped their whiskey, including Sarah. He looked at her amazed.
“What?” she rebuffed. “A lady is perfectly entitled to indulge a little.”
Kevin turned his palms upward, not sure how to respond.
“Here you go, my lad,” Cunningham said, handing over a drink.
Sitting up, Kevin winced as pain shot through his left side. He reached over and touched his ribs. Bandages were wrapped around his torso. He took the drink and glanced at Cunningham, apparently searching the hunter’s eyes for answers.
“We got you patched up in a jiffy,” Cunningham said. “The beast got a good swipe at you down in the tunnel.”
Kevin looked at him surprised.
“Don’t worry. We got the wounds all cleaned out.”
“Wounds?” Kevin questioned. “Don’t even recall getting injured.”
“Happens all the time,” Niles interjected. “The adrenaline is pumping so you don’t feel the extent of the injury until later. The whiskey will help now that you’ve come around, though.”
“How about you?” Kevin wondered aloud. “Did you feel the rhino horn right away?”
“Bollocks!” Niles hollered. “That’s the type of thing that you feel immediately, son. And suffer with long afterward. Now, isn’t that right, Silas?”
“Mighty true,” Cunningham replied. “This is most definitely the case. Why an injury like that strikes the pain sensors right away. Recuperation takes months. And the warrior is left with aches and pain for a lifetime.”
Clockwork Universe Page 8
