McIntyre was silent.
Gainsborough began barking orders at the troops. He grabbed a set of handcuffs from a storage box on the side of one of the wooden trailers and marched over to Lisa.
“You, young lady. You are not going anywhere tonight.”
Gainsborough grabbed a nearby soldier and slapped one of the cuffs on his left wrist. He grabbed Lisa’s right hand and fought to secure the other cuff to her wrist.
“Let me go, you bastard,” she screamed. She slapped him with her free hand.
“You are just like your mother,” Gainsborough replied angrily, securing the handcuffs, and James understood precisely how targeted that comment was and how it was intended to hurt her far more than any physical act.
The general turned toward Anders and James. “If he tries to run, kill him.” With that, Gainsborough turned away and continued to organize his troops.
McIntyre was back with the main body of soldiers, marshaling the squads, assigning defensive roles for the flanks and the rear, while Gainsborough set a phalanx of soldiers in front of the army.
The phalanx consisted of ten rows of twenty five men holding pikes and spears. The back rows held their long, barbed pikes like flag poles, keeping the center of gravity almost directly above them, while the front couple of rows held their spears level, ready to engage man or monster.
Every couple of hundred feet, the front row would pause, allowing the row behind to take the lead. Once they fell to the rear, they would raise their spears like flags and rest their muscles. The effect was that the swarm of soldiers advanced with a sense of rhythm, with each row staying on the front line for no more than ten minutes. As they rotated, they raised their pikes and got to rest their muscles from fatigue for upwards of fifteen minutes at a time. Gainsborough meant to roll through the town with a show of unstoppable force.
The phalanx was impressive. James had never seen anything like the discipline of these soldiers. It was no wonder Gainsborough was so confident about moving through the streets of the town. He meant to show he was afraid of no man, no beast. Any bear or lion would be skewered by the pikes before they ever got close enough to attack a single soldier.
The army was on the move, marching down the broad junction into the town. The sun sat low on the horizon, casting dark shadows along the boulevard.
“I want another phalanx behind the lead,” Gainsborough bellowed. “And we need to have a third ready to deploy at the rear if the march comes to a halt, so make sure we have troops there, held in reserve.”
McIntyre was running from one battle formation to another. The army bristled with pikes and spears.
Anders took James to the rear of the logistics group, behind the horses. There were so many troops running about the formation, grabbing equipment and forming squads that it took the best part of ten minutes to reach the rear of the force as the army marched on.
Gainsborough kept Lisa nearby. James could see her in the distance, roughly a hundred yards ahead. The General had the standard bearers on either side of his command group, ten of them flying flags of the north, resplendent in their blues, golds and purples.
“Did he mean it?” Anders asked. “Your father, can he really command monsters?”
James was silent. His eyes looked out at the dark outline of the tall buildings in the distance, mentally calculating how close they were to the library. He figured the army was no more than half an hour from the city center with its run down restaurant and sandstone library. Somewhere in the distance, a bear roared. As if in response, wild dogs began barking.
“He doesn’t stand a chance,” Anders said, as though James had answered his question in the affirmative. “Gainsborough will tear that town apart looking for him.”
“And that’s exactly the kind of hubris my father is counting on. He’s goaded Gainsborough into doing something stupid, and the old general is playing right into his hands. You have no idea who you’re up against.”
Simon came running up to them, out of breath as he spoke.
“Logistics are in. We’ve got the scouts and maintenance troops, but Phillips says you’ll hang.”
James was confused. Simon was talking about Anders hanging, not him.
“Will he act against us?” Anders asked.
“Not while we’re going through the city.” Simon had his hands on his hips, sucking in the air as they marched on. “But he will betray you. You’re going to have to act now.”
“That’s less than a hundred men,” Anders replied. “I’d hoped for more.”
Anders turned to James and unlocked his cuffs.
“I don’t understand,” James said.
“I didn’t sign on for murder,” the big man replied. “The general has exceeded his mandate, and we all know it. Most of the troops don’t want to admit that, but they all know the south will retaliate for the sacking of Amersham. It’s one thing to demand tribute, it is another to start a war.”
“And you?” James asked, surprised by Anders.
“I’ll hang beside you, old friend.”
James slapped him on the shoulder and laughed.
“There are many that hold you in esteem,” Simon added, speaking to James. “No one doubts your courage. Give the order, and we will follow you into battle.”
“But you’re outnumbered, ten-to-one,” James replied. “No. I can’t do that. I can’t send you to your deaths.”
“But we have the element of surprise,” Anders said.
“Not for long enough to effect any good. Without an assault troop on your side, you don’t stand a chance.”
Ahead of them, James could see the tall office blocks looming over the boulevard with their darkened, smashed windows. Even from where he was, he could see shadows moving within, bats flexing their wings in the twilight.
“You’ve got to get your men out of here,” James said. “Anyone that continues on will die.”
“Are you serious?” Simon asked. “Your father is actually going to take on Gainsborough in open combat?”
“Never underestimate a reader,” James replied.
From where they were at the top of a rise, James could see down along the boulevard.
The troops were spread out over almost half a mile, which was unusual, Gainsborough was normally more disciplined in his troop formations.
The lead phalanx had passed the tall buildings and was entering the ruins, the downtown region where buildings had collapsed into the street. They continued their precise drills, with the front line extending their fourteen foot long pikes out in front of them as they marched forward. Damn, they were impressive.
In the distance, fires burned in front of the library.
“Like a moth to a flame,” James said to Anders. “When the fighting starts, get your men out of here. There’s an old factory on the outskirts of town, about a mile or so behind us. The roof has collapsed, but the four walls will provide protection from any monsters.”
“You’re serious?” Anders replied. “He’s really going to attack single-handed?”
“Oh, he’s got help. Don’t you worry about that.”
“And what about you?” Simon asked.
“I’m not leaving her.”
As he spoke, a flash of light erupted from a low rooftop between the advancing troops and the library. They watched as a ball of fire rose high in the air, traveling in an arc, sailing over the troops and into the side of one of the tall buildings. Flames burst out across the aging concrete structure.
“What the hell was that?” Anders asked.
“Slingshot,” James replied as another fiery ball erupted from a rooftop on the other side of the road, flying high and striking another building. Flames exploded, showering the street with burning debris.
“But he missed.”
“Oh, no,” James said. “I think he’s right on target.”
As he spoke, swarms of bats began pouring out of the windows, with some of the dark, winged monsters on fire, screaming at the night.
Another ball of fire erupted from the first roof top, only the trajectory was lower, landing in the second row of the phalanx and exploding in flames that burst out in a fan, encompassing the next eight rows.
James could see the dogs running in hard, chasing a burning tire that skidded across the road. With their discipline broken, the soldiers didn’t stand a chance.
“That’s my cue,” James said, holding his hand out. Anders handed him his sword as James added, “Get your men out of here.”
Already, bats were flying overhead a quarter of a mile from the towers, swooping down and attacking the troops.
James ran forward, running past soldiers preoccupied with firing their crossbows at the giant bats.
The horses were spooked, rearing up and throwing their riders. Several of them panicked and stampeded through the troops, crushing soldiers under hoof before bolting down the side streets.
Simon stayed with James, running along with him.
A bat swooped down at them, its leathery wings with their spindly fingers beating in unison as it descended upon the two men. With large, white incisor teeth, perfectly honed for shredding small prey, the bat lunged, snapping at the air as James ducked.
As quick as the bat had come, it was gone, beating its wings and then gliding further down the line, harassing other soldiers.
Another bat banked before them, turning sharply to one side, its ten foot wingspan outstretched as it grabbed at a soldier with its feet. The monster dragged the soldier along the street as he screamed and fought against the beast.
The bat struggled to gain height but was determined to hold onto its prey.
As the bat cleared the remaining horses, James could see the monster turning toward the buildings. The massive bat disappeared into the dark, open windows of the sixth floor as the soldier struggled in vain to free himself. In the midst of the noise and chaos, James could make out his screams.
James and Simon ran hard.
The bats seemed more interested in those soldiers that stayed still, picking them off one by one.
Ahead, James could see one of the massive dogs, surrounded by soldiers plunging their spears into its side. Ordinarily, the soldiers would have had the composure and focus to finish off the huge beast in a matter of minutes, but another dog came running in, causing the soldiers to scatter. As soon as the soldiers stopped working together, they became easy prey for the massive beasts.
Fiery projectiles continued to rain down on the army every few minutes, setting their defensive positions in disarray.
Bats carried off soldiers.
The wild dogs ran riot through the troop, causing the soldiers to scatter, running for cover. Ahead, a lone standard of the north still stood, rising out of the carnage, and James knew that’s where Gainsborough, McIntyre and Lisa would be.
Night fell.
Darkness descended.
Throughout the chaos, soldiers retreated, trying to find any place of refuge, carrying their wounded from the field of battle. Bats swooped in, darting and weaving, their needle-sharp fangs bared. The speed with which they moved made the crossbows largely ineffective.
Lisa screamed.
James couldn’t see her.
She was somewhere ahead of him, but he picked her scream out of the confusion of noise around him and doubled his efforts, pushing past soldiers, ducking beneath the black, leathery wings of bats wreaking havoc on the army.
Pockets of fire blocked his path. His father must have used some kind of gasoline or propellant as the flames consumed the green grass and saplings breaking through the cracked street.
James slipped on some loose bricks scattered across the road, catching himself before he fell. Simon grabbed him with one hand, helping him to his feet.
Ahead, a giant bat struggled to gain height, a soldier clasped firmly in its claws, and that was when James saw her, being dragged along the street behind the soldier. Lisa was screaming for help, being dragged backwards, her right hand still cuffed to the soldier’s left arm. The soldier wasn’t struggling. His body hung limp beneath the dark monster, blood running from a bite to his neck.
The bat dodged to the left, then to the right, beating its wings furiously, trying to knock Lisa loose. For her part, Lisa was trying to get to her feet as she was dragged on with her arm outstretched toward the vast, black monster.
Simon knocked into one of the soldiers, ripping a crossbow from his hands. He fired at the bat, catching it in the chest, but the monster didn’t seem to notice the injury.
James ran on, his heart pounding within his chest, his lungs screaming for oxygen, his legs aching under the strain. He pushed himself to go faster, to run harder, but his body just couldn’t comply.
The rusted remains of a car blocked his path. Without breaking his stride, he jumped, clearing the frame and using the engine block to propel himself on further. Beyond that lay the crushed remains of an overturned bus. With his momentum, James bounded up a pile of bricks and jumped up onto the bus, rushing along its length, praying he wouldn’t fall through the rusted panels.
The bat pulled Lisa off the ground, slowly gaining height as it struggled with the combined weight of both her and the soldier. Even from the height of the bus, he couldn’t reach the monster. The bat was already too high, its wings thrashing at the air as it cleared the lamp posts. Within a fraction of a second, it would be over. Lisa would be out of reach. He’d failed. There was nothing he could do. The bus came to an end beneath his pounding feet and he found himself jumping, flying through the air, but he was going to fall short, he’d end up nowhere near the bat, missing it by almost four feet.
James swung his sword, putting every ounce of strength into his blow, aiming for the soldier’s arm just above the handcuffs, praying he didn’t miss.
The sword severed the arm just above the wrist and both he and Lisa fell back to the rough concrete. The bat, free from the extra weight, lifted high into the sky, its wings spread wide as it soared around toward its nesting tower, carrying its hard-won prey with it.
James rolled as he landed. His shoulder caught on a curb and pain shot through his right arm. He got to his feet and ran over to Lisa, his right hand still gripping the sword even though his arm lay limp against his side. James was shattered, physically and emotionally. He pushed through the pain, realizing Lisa needed him to be strong.
Lisa was still screaming.
Blood had spattered across her hands and legs, but it wasn't her blood.
“Hey,” he began, shaking. “It’s OK. You’re going to be OK.”
She grabbed him, hugging him tight. It hurt to hug her, but he needed to hold her. He'd come so close to losing her.
Above them, another fiery projectile soared through the darkness, sailing into the distance and exploding in a burst of flames further down the street.
James stepped back from Lisa. He pulled the soldier’s warm, severed hand from Lisa's handcuffs. He dropped it on the ground, trying not to feel the dead fingers slip from his hand. Emotionally, he didn’t want to think about what he’d done. But as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t transform that searing memory to some intangible, impersonal act. He couldn’t look at the hand, he had to look into Lisa’s eyes.
They were both in shock.
James felt sick.
He wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her hair was matted with blood and he could feel a lump on the back of her head.
Her eyes cast down at the bloodied hand lying in the gutter, and she stepped away in revulsion.
He looked around. They were within fifty yards of the library, and James thought about taking her there to hide. He knew the layout well, and figured they would find refuge in the basement.
“Let her go,” Gainsborough said.
McIntyre came up beside them and pulled Lisa from him.
�
�This is between you and me, now,” the general said. Above him, bats soared through the air, but their level of agitation had waned. They were no longer willing to risk injury by dropping down and attacking the soldiers.
The battle was swinging away from the monsters, with squads of men firing their crossbows in unison, targeting individual bats and bringing them down in a volley of arrows. After the initial confusion, discipline was being restored and the soldiers were gaining the upper hand.
The old general stepped forward, swinging his sword at James, surprising James with his vigor. James stepped back and the first blow passed harmlessly before him. Gainsborough lunged again, and James parried feebly. His right shoulder was broken. The force of the general’s blow reverberated through his sword, causing pain to resound through his arm.
“It’s over,” James said, his feet slipping on the loose gravel. “Your army is in ruins. Your men are deserting.”
“Oh, it’s over, all right,” Gainsborough said, coming down with a strike from above. James deflected the blow with his sword but he could barely hold onto the hilt. His shoulder throbbed in agony, sending pain shooting down his arm. He switched the sword to his left hand. Gainsborough was playing with him, enjoying the moment.
“Father, No!” Lisa cried, kicking and struggling against McIntyre’s grip.
Gainsborough struck again.
James was clumsy, his left hand lacked dexterity, and he struggled not to be hit by the glancing blow.
Gainsborough jabbed, catching James on the left shoulder, puncturing the muscle with a clean thrust.
Blood seeped from the wound.
The old general moved with deceptive speed. He spun around, driving at James with a forceful blow.
James blocked, but the sword was knocked from his hand and he slipped to his knees.
James tried to reach the fallen sword, but the general placed the blade of his sword under James’ chin, ignoring Lisa’s screams. McIntyre put his hand over her mouth, forcing her to watch.
Monsters Page 30
