“I might be able to help with that,” Jennifer said.
All eyes turned to the nurse, who stood behind the group. She was holding a pair of black AR15 rifles and a 9mm Ruger handgun.
“Where did those come from?” Griffin asked.
“Does it matter?” Jennifer replied. She walked to Radar and put one of the rifles in his hands. Then she handed the handgun to Lisa. “You know how to use those?”
Radar nodded.
Lisa said, “My father took us to the range a few times last year.” She pulled the slide back, chambering a round.
Radar pulled back the charge handle on his rifle and flipped the safety on. “I went with them.”
Jennifer gave her rifle’s charge handle a yank and looked at Griffin, “Well?”
He looked at the group, checking each face for a crack in their resolve, but he found none. He wasn’t going to win this argument. And, if he was honest with himself, he felt better knowing that the kids could defend themselves if need be. Normally, he wouldn’t have heard of it. But this was the world—or worlds—they lived in now.
He eyed Jennifer, realizing that he knew nothing at all about the woman. She could be helpful or she could shoot them all in the back. “You’ve been in this house since the first shift. Why are you helping now?”
“My job,” she said, “is to keep Mr. Ellison alive. That might mean saving him from a heart attack. It might also mean stopping fire-breathing monsters from burning down the town.”
“We could have used your help before,” Griffin said, and then he realized the truth. “Ellison was here, wasn’t he? For the desert and the darkness. But you were telling the truth. He’s not home now. If he was, you wouldn’t be leaving.”
She said nothing, but she didn’t have to. Jennifer Turkette might actually have a medical background, but he doubted that was all. The way she handled the rifle in her hands spoke of a military background. And right now, that could be useful to more than just Ellison.
Griffin lowered his guard. “Okay. Everyone in the car. And for the love of God, keep your safeties on. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
13
After a barrage of gunfire, the path ahead was mostly clear. They’d torn into the approaching lizards without remorse, but they had used a good amount of ammunition in the process. And while nothing ahead was still trying to kill them, they would now have to run through, and over, dead and dying monsters.
Frost felt exhausted. The chase was wearing her down quickly, the desolate air and the rugged terrain sapping her strength. The fact that she had an army of fire-breathing lizard creatures closing in didn’t help.
She began mentally picking her path back to town, trying to find a way that would be quick, but also avoiding the still living lizards. But before she could finish, more of the things emerged from the ground ahead. It was like the Earth was bleeding the things.
She squeezed off a single shot, striking the closest monster between the eyes. It rolled in the dirt, squealing in a high pitched whine that sounded like a cross between a pig and an injured horse. By all appearances, this world had been burned to a crisp and devoured by these things, but they weren’t that hard to kill. How could these things have overrun an entire world? Perhaps they hadn’t. Maybe they were contained to this region of the world. But then, why here? Why Refuge?
It didn’t make sense. Why would this world’s government not just sweep in and exterminate the things? They weren’t even very smart. Frost had been able to dodge several of them with easy jukes and jumps, and sometimes the creatures set fire to their comrades because they were too slow to hit her. On those occasions, the creatures went ahead and fed, anyway.
She risked a quick glance behind her. The entire group was keeping up nicely. If they could just keep up this pace, they should be able to make it back to town without losing a single member of her team.
She turned around just in time to see the low, rocky overhang that smacked into her face. She hit the ground hard, and felt the warmth of blood spreading over her cheek, but she was still conscious. She felt a bit dazed, but then she realized she was looking straight in the open maw of a fire-breathing lizard. She scrambled back, but it was already dead. Its stomach had burst open, and a red, gelatinous ooze was spilling out.
Frost pushed herself onto her knees. Her head swirled, but she could see well enough to notice the hundreds of clear orbs stuck in the red ooze. Each sphere contained a single, three-inch long lizard. They wriggled madly for freedom. Small flames erupted from some of the eggs.
Babies, she realized. Hundreds of them. And already able to breathe fire.
That’s how they did it. They overwhelmed this world through sheer numbers.
Jared Loomis saw Frost go down hard, and he immediately made his way over to her. Already several of the creatures were turning toward her position. Loomis stopped, aimed his rifle, and popped the closest two before they could get near enough to hurt her. Then he launched into a sprint, hoping to make it in time.
By the time he reached her, Frost was kneeling, staring at the corpse of one of the creatures. She looked up at him, blood covering one of her cheeks. She was conscious, but she looked a bit dazed.
“There’s too many,” she said. “That’s what happened.”
She whacked her head pretty hard, he thought. But there was no time to be gentle. He reached down and grabbed her hand, then yanked her to her feet and shoved her back in the direction of town. “Move!
Frost did as he asked. She started running, but then stumbled right toward one of the creatures!
“No,” he shouted. “Stop!” He sprinted toward her and tackled her just in time to save her from the thing’s flame. The fire shot over her and hit him squarely on the shoulder. His shirt burst into flame, and then the creature, seeing it had a hit, poured on the juice.
The pain was intense, blinding. His whole shoulder began to melt away from the heat. It was soon joined by a fierce pain in his leg. A second creature had reached him. He screamed, trying not to black out. As he writhed on the ground, he saw Frost get to her feet.
She pulled out her sidearm and quickly emptied the clip.
He couldn’t see what was happening around him, just the yellow haze of a sky above, but since he was no longer being cooked alive, he assumed Frost had killed the creatures. At least the few that had been intent on eating his ashes.
Loomis turned his head to the side. His vision faded in and out, but he could see that more of the creatures were coming toward him, spurred on by the smell of ashes and death. He caught a whiff of something sticky and sweet, and realized it was the odor of his own roasted flesh. He yelped in pain when he felt pressure on his shoulder.
Frost was at his side, trying to pull him to his feet. Meeks was with her, grabbing his good arm and trying to pull him up.
He screamed. The skin peeled away from his burned shoulder, sliding off like so much barbecue. The pain was excruciating, and he almost blacked out. But he couldn’t let himself faint. If he did, Frost and the others would try to carry him out. They would never make it, he knew. They would die trying.
He couldn’t let that happen.
“Let me go,” he shouted, swatting her hands away. “Leave! Go!”
Frost looked horrified. So did Meeks and Dodge, who had just caught up. But behind them, he saw that Silver was nodding.
“He’s right,” Silver said. “We can’t carry him.”
Frost whirled around, her face as red as Jared’s shoulder felt. “You can’t be serious!”
Loomis lost track of the argument. Something in the sky caught his attention. The object was an aberration in this world. The straight line, soaring above didn’t belong. He tracked its arc through the sky, and became confused when the long, slender object shrank down to the size of a small dot.
Realization struck him hard. “Look out!” he shouted and shoved at the people holding him. The agony he felt from the sudden movement lasted only a moment.
Frost felt a jolt of anger when Loomis pushed her away and forced her to drop him, but it was suddenly replaced by abject shock, when a five-foot-long spear, like a javelin, fell from the sky and impaled Loomis’s head, pinning his partially charred body to the dead ground.
Stifling a gasp, she spun around. The creatures were closing in. They didn’t have long. But the creatures weren’t remotely capable of throwing a—there!
When everyone turned, she realized she’d shouted the word aloud. A man ran among the creatures, cloaked in their black and orange skins. He had a long shaggy beard and tangles of hair hanging out from under a lizard skull atop the man’s head. He was wiry and thin, but he moved with skilled grace and total comfort among the monsters. Was he guiding them or simply living among them?
The answers didn’t matter. What did matter was that a second spear had suddenly materialized in the man’s hand, and he was preparing to throw it. At her. She knew because their eyes met for a just a moment. Her stomach twisted with recognition.
She was yanked from her thoughts by Dodge, pulling on her arm. “Let’s go!”
They ran behind the others, hurrying to catch up, leaving Loomis behind. He’d meant something to her once. But this fucked up new reality didn’t give her time to grieve his passing. She only hoped his death would distract the monsters long enough for the others to reach town.
14
Dozens of fires burned throughout the town. Numerous trails of thick black smoke rolled through the air like an oily fog. For the most part, the town was devoid—of people. The only signs of human inhabitants were the nearly constant popping of gunfire up ahead.
They’d taken a beating, speeding over the rough dirt road leading back to town, but they’d completed the trip in record time. But now, the town’s new residents—massive, bulky, fire-breathing lizards—slowed their progress. Luckily, so far the monsters had shown no interest in the vehicle. They seemed fixated on attacking more flammable objects, including store fronts, shrubs, trees...and people.
“Oh my God. They’re eating him,” Lisa said, as they slowly passed a corpse that had been reduced to jet black ash. Three of the creatures were scooping up heaps of greasy ash, lifting their heads and then swallowing it down, their necks shaking with each gulp.
Griffin winced. These were the kinds of things that ruined well-trained soldiers for life. He’d seen this kind of horror before, sans the lizards, and it had taken years and hundreds of dark, therapeutic paintings for him to work through the post-traumatic stress. The kids shouldn’t have to see this, he thought, finding yet another reason to beat the shit out of whoever was ultimately responsible for this situation.
Griffin had to stop the car in front of the Brick House. The way ahead was blocked by creatures. There were too many to drive through. Hundreds of them. Probably too many too kill. The town was outnumbered. Outmatched. This could be the end, he thought, glancing back at Avalon. Part of him wished she’d stayed in California. Alive and addicted would be better than burnt and eaten in this hellhole.
But she wasn’t in California. And she was fighting to be free from her addiction. So he’d fight for her. Until the very end.
The area in front of the Brick House was clear of living lizards, though five had found themselves on the receiving end of a shotgun. The front door opened and Walter Harrison peeked out, shotgun in hand.
Griffin rolled down his window. Since leaving Ellison’s mansion, no one had answered his calls, not even Frost. “Where is everyone?”
Walter motioned behind him. “I got eight in here, but I’m the only one with a gun. Rest of ‘em are holed up at the sheriff’s station.”
“With Frost?” Griffin asked, hopeful.
“She ain’t back yet,” the bartender said.
Walter glanced around the cruiser, his eyes lingering on Jennifer for a moment. “You’re welcome to hole up in here. Sure wouldn’t mind all those guns.”
Griffin had already considered it for the kids, but he didn’t think they’d agree, and he didn’t want to waste time arguing. The only way to defeat a larger force was through a very organized assault, and he didn’t see that happening without him. He needed to get to the station.
He opened his door.
“Are you sure you want to go out there?” Winslow asked.
“It’s what we came here for. If you all survive, maybe next time you’ll do as I ask and stay behind.” He hated using ‘I told you so’ logic on them, especially in the face of their potential deaths, but if they did survive, he wanted them to remember that they could have avoided all of this by letting him go alone. “Winslow, you’re behind me. Avalon and Lisa, you stay in the middle. Radar and Jennifer, you two cover the rear.”
Jennifer nodded, and the group walked cautiously out into the street. Griffin led the way, assault rifle in hand. Rather than strolling straight up Main Street, where they’d be easily spotted, he headed for the rear of the bar. While the other side of town was surrounded by residential neighborhoods, fifty acres of forest to the west separated town from Northwoods Orchard. Moving among the trees, they might be able to make it to the station unnoticed. And that, he thought, will be the key to our survival.
Twenty feet into the woods, one of the creatures exploded out of a patch of smoldering brush. Reacting on instinct, he raised his rifle, squeezed off a three round burst and dropped the thing. It fell at his feet, dead.
At least they can be killed, he thought.
Cracking twigs and shaking branches announced the arrival of more lizards, likely drawn by the sound of gunfire. Before seeing them, Griffin shouted, “Run!” He led the way, charging through the woods with his rifle up and ready, propped against his shoulder.
Behind him, Winslow opened fire, but with far less success. Griffin counted seven shots from Winslow, before he actually hit the creature charging toward them from Main Street. A high-pitched squeal, like compressed air, came from the hole punched in the thing’s neck. Then, it exploded. Globs of flesh rained about, attracting more of the things, several of which stopped to charbroil their now dead comrade.
Whatever chemicals are used to create those flames, Griffin thought, are kept in their necks. “Try not to hit their necks at close range.” He fired two more rounds, dropping another lizard, this one still fifty feet away.
“Dad!” Avalon shouted. Her voice was followed by the rumble of gunfire.
Griffin flinched and spun, his rifle raised at a now dead lizard. He glanced at Avalon, holding the proverbial smoking gun. Gave her a nod. She smiled briefly, and then they were off, running and shooting. Even Radar and Lisa were firing away, as was Jennifer, whose aim made her the deadliest nurse Griffin had ever seen. But for the moment, she was helping keep him, and the kids, alive. And for that, he was grateful. But if he found out she was involved with whatever caused their trip through the universe’s most hellish worlds...
“Griffin,” Winslow said. The old man was sweating profusely, but he looked capable and alert. He held out a hand. “Give me the keys. I have an idea.”
Griffin was about to argue, but the old man didn’t give him a chance. “Now, damnit!”
Griffin handed over the keys. “What—”
“If I’m not back in ten minutes, you’ll know I didn’t make it.” With that, Winslow was off, heading back the way they’d come.
Griffin was torn. He didn’t want to leave Winslow, who wasn’t the best shot or the fastest runner, on his own, but he also couldn’t turn around now. The town needed an organized defense.
“I’ll go with him,” Jennifer said.
Griffin gave a nod of thanks, but added, “If you make it back alive, he better be with you.”
Then she was gone, chasing after Winslow, leaving Griffin to storm the police station with two kids and his drug-craving daughter. “The odds just keep getting better and better,” he whispered.
“Never tell me the odds,” Radar replied with lopsided grin.
When Griffin shot him a look like he had lo
st his mind, Radar explained. “Han Solo. In the asteroid field.”
Griffin sighed. “C’mon 3PO, let’s go.”
“3PO?”
“Yeah,” Griffin said, offering a smile of his own. “I’m obviously Han.” He pushed deeper into the woods unseen, thanks to a momentary reprieve in the attack. If they could get behind the station, they might be able to get through the back door. The sound of gunfire grew louder with every step. As he rounded the back of Soucey’s Market, he got his first glimpse of the station.
So much for the back door...
15
Turned out that Loomis’s death was just the beginning.
While Dodge and Frost led the charge back to the edge of town, the four men accompanying them had the misfortune of being a few steps behind. And that was all the difference. Frost had heard a joke, about how the best defense against an attacking bear was being faster than your friends. Turns out the punchline worked with giant, fire-breathing reptiles, too.
The man named Jarvis Brent walked into a wall of flame, as a lizard climbed out from a crevice beneath him. He emerged alit, stumbled over a rock and fell into the waiting jaws of a second lizard, which unleashed a torrent of flame as it shook him about.
Matthew Silver simply lost his footing, fell forward and slammed his head on a jagged rock. The sickening crunch and limpness of his body confirmed his death before the lizards fell upon him.
Anthony Grimm turned out to be the fastest of them, jack-rabbiting over and around the field of jagged stones, deadly gorges and writhing lizards. His substantial lead might be why he was targeted. Just fifty feet from where the earth fell away back to the border of Refuge, a spear fell from the sky, impaling the back of his neck, slipping four feet through his flesh. He fell forward, but the weapon lodged in the ground, holding him up at a forty-five degree angle. His body slowly slid down the long, smooth spear.
Refuge Book 4 - Ashes and Dust Page 6
