Age of Monsters

by John Lee Schneider

  Rosa followed a few steps more until she could see.

  The city was gone – nothing left but rubble – even the dust had settled.

  Likewise, very little remained of the giant carcasses – the bones had been pulled apart and scattered, blending in with the rest of the debris.

  What had Lucas said that first night?

  This. Everywhere.

  Lucas packed his binoculars, motioning the others back down the slope.

  “You all stay put,” he said. “I'm going to do a quick circle. I spotted a couple of vehicles.” He turned to Rosa for emphasis, pointing her back down to the street.

  “Wait here,” he said.

  With that, he hopped up and over the broken pilings.

  After a moment – perhaps feeling a bit defiant – Rosa followed him up to the top – just far enough to watch him hit the street and dogtrot out of sight around the first demolished city block.

  “Doctor Holland,” Julie called softly, behind her. “The Lieutenant said to wait down here.”

  Rosa glanced irritably over her shoulder.

  “I'm not going anywhere,” she called back, “I just want to see.”

  She turned to the view of the city, and promptly slipped on the loose rubble.

  The concrete beneath her feet shifted, and before she knew it, she was riding a mini-avalanche all the way down to the street.

  She had been standing on a buried girder, or she might have actually been hurt quite badly – the scraps and mortar beneath her feet weighed in the tons – makeshift boulders, some the size of cars.

  As it was, she was good and battered by the time she tumbled the forty feet to a rough landing on the road below.

  She coughed in the fresh cloud of dust, and her eyes teared. When she wiped with her hands, they came away bloody.

  Julie's head popped up over the top of the remaining pilings.

  “Oh, my God! Doctor Holland, are you alright?”

  Julie carefully began climbing down the slope, picking her way over the larger, more stable-looking slabs. Rosa was dusting herself off, counting her bruises, as Julie kneeled down beside her, helping her to her feet, immediately fussing over her abrasions.

  Rosa patted her hands down, looking at Julie earnestly.

  “We aren't going to be telling the Lieutenant about this,” she said. “Are we agreed?”

  Julie looked doubtful, as she dabbed at a bit of running blood on Rosa's forehead.

  “He might ask,” she said.

  Rosa pushed Julie away, and turned back towards the ravaged skyline.

  They had lost their vantage, and Rosa began to circle her way back towards the high-ground.

  “Where are you going?” Julie asked, a frantic tone creeping into her voice, like a kid afraid of getting caught after curfew.

  “For crying out loud,” Rosa said, “I just want to get a look at the city.”

  Reluctantly, Julie followed the half-a-block to where the hilltop looked down into the main downtown area.

  They stood for a moment, taking it all in.

  The city maintained that same dead silence. Beyond general geography, it was hard even to tell what roads had been where.

  Rosa found herself thinking, of all things, about her canceled date – a man she had never even met. He had lived right downtown.

  He had sent her that one last text – 'Have a nice life,' it had said.

  Was he out there right now? Crushed in the rubble – cannibalized by some scaly, pint-sized lizard?

  Or what about her friend, Suzy, who lived downstate in L.A.?

  Lucas had said they had lost in L.A.

  Suzy also lived right downtown. She would have been right in the middle of it.

  Rosa wondered if there was anything even physically left of her, let alone alive.

  Beside her, Julie choked just a little bit.

  Rosa found she didn't want to see anymore. She turned away from the ruined skyline...

  … just as a voice behind them spoke practically into her ear.

  “Well, honey – where did you come from?”

  The voice was followed by the sound of rifle bolts sliding back.

  Chapter 16

  Three men separated from the surrounding rubble – all three with rifles – one of them looked like an AR.

  The giants had been gone for days, Rosa thought belatedly – there hadn't been any looting in the city because no one was left alive.

  These weren't city folk – at a glance, not much above transients – bumpkins living in the hills, come down into town to see what was salvageable.

  Rosa and Julie both raised their hands.

  “No need for guns,” Rosa said. “We're no threat.”

  The man who had spoken nodded mildly. “Hear that, boys? They're no threat.”

  The other two men laughed. None of them lowered their guns.

  Rosa could now safely assume their intentions.

  The first man was looking Rosa up and down. “You didn't survive all this by yourself,” he said. “You've got people with you.” He held up the barrel of his rifle. “Where are they?”

  Rosa said nothing.

  The man smiled grimly. Then he turned his rifle and pressed it against Julie's head.

  “One more time,” he said, looking at Rosa meaningfully.

  “Aw c'mon, Leroy,” one of the others said. “She's hot. Don't waste her. Just shoot her in the leg or something.”

  Julie's breath had stopped, her eyes turned wide and frightened to Rosa.

  “Don't,” Rosa said, holding her hands up. “Please. Don't hurt her. There's just six of us. We've been trapped.”

  'Leroy' pushed Julie over next to Rosa and held his gun on them both.

  “Where?” he said.

  “Just around the corner.”

  Leroy nodded. “Then lead the way, ladies. Don't do anything stupid.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Rosa said, her voice rising in outrage. “For God's sake! Can't we just help each other?”

  Leroy paused, considering. Then he reached out a beefy mitt and backhanded Rosa across the face.

  The blow was nearly powerful enough to knock her out. She staggered into Julie's steadying hands. She felt her cheek, where a large, swelling knot had joined her already assorted bruises.

  Leroy was staring at them both seriously. He held up his rifle.

  Rosa knew the type. Some people bought guns for defense – some for hunting. Some because they wanted to kill somebody.

  It was more common than you might think – not the psycho-serial-killer – more the alpha-wannabe – the guy who secretly hopes for the burglar to break in.

  “Move,” he said.

  The pile of rubble that had been the hospital was still shifting, so Rosa and Julie led them around on the street. Thus they came upon their little group from behind, still huddled by the stairwell.

  Jeremy was the first to look over his shoulder and see them.

  “Oh, what the hell?”

  Bud was on his feet in a moment, but Leroy and the other two men quickly fanned out to either side, their rifles already up and aimed.

  “Stay right where you are, folks.”

  Bud didn't move, standing in front of Allison – Lucas' caveman psychology working as if programmed.

  One of the other men was giving Jamie an approving once-over, and Jeremy immediately stepped between them – only to be met with a rifle butt across the face, knocking him to the ground.

  When Jeremy looked up, Leroy had his gun on him.

  “You're gonna be trouble, aren't ya, boy? Just can't wait to be a hero, can ya?”

  He brought the barrel up to Jeremy's head.

  Rosa stepped forward quickly, but Leroy's rifle quickly turned on her instead.

  She stopped, looking up into his eyes, trying to see if he would really do it.

  Before she could decide, a shot rang in her ears.

  Rosa blinked – she'd actually felt the displacement of the bullet pa
st her ear.

  Leroy dropped to his knees, holding his shoulder, his rifle clattering on the pavement.

  Lucas was standing atop the ridge of concrete, pistol out and aimed.

  The other two men, both with high-caliber weapons, looked indecisive.

  Lucas was smiling. “Hey fellas. You may have noticed I shot your buddy in the shoulder. They say never to do that. There's no point – it can kill you anyway – so they tell you just to aim for center of mass and be done with it.” He shook his head. “Damn me and my insubordination.”

  He cocked back the hammer on his pistol.

  “So,” he said, “you fellas wanna be refugees, or casualties?”

  While they were thinking it over, Allison took the opportunity to draw her own pistol – empty of bullets – stepping up behind the second man, and cocking the hammer right behind his ear.

  The two men exchanged glances and raised their hands.

  Lucas nodded approvingly. “Very good,” he said, ambling leisurely down the embankment. “Jeremy? Would you and Mr. Adams be so kind as to relieve these gentlemen of their firearms?”

  Bud and Jeremy, pulled the rifles off the two men's shoulders and then patted them down, coming away with assorted pistols and clips.

  One was a 9 mm – which Bud handed to Allison, who tossed her old empty pistol aside.

  Jeremy hefted one of the rifles – a 30.06.

  “There you go,” Lucas said as he walked up, his pistol held casually at his side, yet never straying from any of the three men. “Now you've got yourself a real gun.”

  Jeremy pulled the bolt back experimentally – then leveled the rifle at the man who'd just handed it to him – the one who had butted him with it across the face.

  It was Bud who casually turned the barrel away, patting Jeremy on the shoulder.

  “That's it,” Lucas said, his easy smile never changing. “We're all friends, now, right?”

  Now he turned to Rosa.

  “You know, Doctor Holland,” he said, “I asked you to stay put.” He shook his head. “I swear, I know you're a smart girl – but at this point, it's faith that lets me know that.”

  Rosa started to object, but Lucas held up a placating hand.

  “I get it,” he said. “You've got a stubborn streak.” He took a deep breath. “You'd really like my wife.”

  With that, Lucas squatted down next to where Leroy still sat holding his shoulder. He quickly and efficiently rifled any remaining weapons or shells from the wounded man's pockets, and then pulled him up off the ground and sat him on a flat slab of concrete.

  “Doctor Holland,” he said, “would you please look at this man's arm?”

  As he gave the order – and it felt very much like an 'order' – particularly since Rosa promptly obeyed – Lucas moved back up the slope, resuming his vantage over the surrounding blocks.

  He nodded urgently to Rosa. “Just a quick look please,” he said. “He ought to be able to walk. That's why I didn't shoot him in the leg.”

  And then with a little slap in the air, as if he were swatting her tush, “And can we hurry, please?”

  Pursing her lips, Rosa knelt down beside Leroy, who was looking doubtfully up at Lucas.

  With her best professional smile, she asked, “So, Leroy, what are your friend's names?”

  Leroy shrugged, turning to his companions. The tall one, who had hit Jeremy with the rifle butt waved nervously.

  “Uh, I'm Daryl,” he said.

  “Bob,” said the other.

  Rosa pulled the shirt away from Leroy's wound – noting the precision of the shot – almost straight through the muscle. No doubt a second shot would have been just as precise through the eye.

  Which, of course, as Rosa now knew, would be another broken rule – you were supposed to aim for center of mass.

  Using the torn shirt, Rosa begin to clean the wound, prompting a squawk from Leroy.

  Lucas was tapping his watch. “Uh, Doctor Holland. Can we put on make-up later? I just want to make sure he's not going to bleed to death in the next hour. So can you save the bed-side manner?”

  Rosa stared back angrily. “Lieutenant Walker, you have just shot this man.”

  “I'll shoot him again if it'll get us moving. It's not a good idea to linger.”

  Rosa turned to where Leroy was trying to rise.

  “I can walk,” he said.

  Rosa put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him to sit.

  Leroy's eyes were wide. “That guy ain't gonna kill me, is he?”

  Standing on the crest, Lucas sighed.

  “No. But THEY might.”

  On the far side of the lot – just over the rise of wreckage opposite the hospital – sniffing at the rubble, following their noses – a pack of sickle-claws had appeared – big ones, leopard-sized or better.

  Focused on the scent – they hadn't spotted them yet.

  Lucas' voice was low and flat. “I found a rig,” he said. “It's just down the way.”

  He nodded down the path behind them, where the rubble spilled into the street.

  “Quietly,” he said. “Everybody move.”

  He held back, waving everybody on. He had taken up Leroy's confiscated AR.

  Rosa glanced back after him.

  As she did so, her foot kicked up a rock.

  On the ridge, one of the creatures turned.

  And in the manner of an excited monkey, it began to hop up and down, hooting excitedly.

  The other sickle-claws all turned. And as a flock, they came darting down the pilings, claws flexing back, coiling to leap.

  Lucas let out a slow sigh, sparing Rosa a raised eyebrow, before putting his rifle to his shoulder and picking off the front row of the charging pack.

  More of them, however, were poking their heads over the ridge. Lucas barked over his shoulder. “Go!”

  But even as he turned, he saw that route was now cut off as well – the spindly creatures had flanked them, and they seemed to be materializing from the cracks in all directions.

  Rosa knew it was undoubtedly their gunfire that had attracted the attention, but she couldn't help see the image – they were like packs of attack-dogs in brutal ancient wars – rooting out survivors – primitive and barbaric search-and-destroy missions.

  She knew that was silly, of course – anthropomorphic projection – they were simply predators eating carrion and targeting easy prey.

  Although, she thought, that was a distinction without a practical difference.

  Either way, they were trapped.

  Lucas cursed, stopping to pop a new clip into his rifle, glancing back at the others.

  “Mr. Adams?” he said, “Jeremy? Would you please give me a hand shooting these goddamn things?”

  And with that, he opened fire, picking off the advancing sickle-claws methodically, one at a time. He was joined by Bud, and then, after a moment of fiddling with his rifle, by Jeremy.

  After the first barrage of gunfire, the advancing pack broke to either side of the street, moving into stalk mode, even as more of them continued to materialize out of the surrounding rubble.

  Lucas placed his shots patiently, letting the near-random fire of the other two men keep the creatures scattered and off-balance.

  In-between shots, he called over to Daryl and Bob.

  “Gentlemen,” he said, “would you two be so kind as to pull up that manhole?”

  The two exchanged glances, hesitating – something that, in the heat of the moment, Lucas was not prepared to tolerate.

  “Let's go!” he barked. “Right now, Goddamnit! Or I'll shoot you!”

  In a single motion, the both of them reached down and started straining at the round metal plate. There was the loud scraping of iron on pavement, and a clattering as they tossed the heavy lid aside.

  “Go!” Lucas shouted. “You two first – make sure it's clear.” And then, when they again hesitated, “I swear, I will cap you both!”

  Clearly not doubting him, Bob clambered d
own into the dark hole, followed quickly by Daryl.

  Without waiting, Lucas motioned the others to follow. Looking fretful, Jamie nevertheless, slid herself down into the tunnel. Julie followed after.

  Rosa, however, was helping Leroy with his injured arm. Looking impatient, Allison moved to help.

  The sickle-claws, however, had discovered a new avenue of attack – a number of them had found a perch where the wreckage of a highway overpass crossed almost directly over their heads.

  Rosa looked up just as three of them came leaping down, seemingly right out of the sky.

  They first targeted the wounded Leroy, and he was yanked bodily out of Rosa's hands.

  This was followed by a wet ripping sound, and Leroy began to scream.

  Rosa gasped as she felt the second creature's claws latch onto her shoulders – not digging – just grabbing – pulling her back in to that disemboweling sickle.

  A gunshot rang almost directly in her ear as Allison shot the creature between the eyes, before turning to the third, even as it landed almost on top of her.

  Lucas, however, took that one out with a single shot.

  Bud drew a bead on the remaining creature, even as it dug into Leroy's still-kicking body. Bud pumped five shots into its chest, blowing the creature off its feet.

  Rosa blinked, as the dead sickle-claw twitched at her feet.

  Lucas shouted again. “Go! They're still coming!”

  From the broken overpass, more lizard-heads were peering down.

  Allison clambered down into the manhole, followed by Jeremy and Bud.

  Rosa, however, was bent over Leroy's torn, bleeding body.

  She looked up. “He's still alive.”

  “No he isn't,” Lucas said, and shot Leroy once in the forehead. Leroy's leg kicked once and went stiff.

  Rosa gasped, stumbling back, staring up at Lucas in horror.

  Lucas shook his head. “Didn't like him anyway,” he said. “Get in the hole, Doctor.”

  Rosa stared back at him, speechless.

  Above them, the sickle-claws were lined up along the overpass like crows, and several were poised to leap. Lucas picked off the cheekiest of them, and it dropped limply to the street.

  This time however, the others did not retreat.