The three adults kneeled in shooting positions a few feet apart. The fairies responded by splitting up instantly and racing into the fields and the cover of trees on either side of them. Diana and Myth's rifles swiveled, tracking them, but they showed no signs of slowing down.
Dan stood up, lowering his AR-10.
"They don't seem bent on attacking us," he said. "Almost as if they're running from something."
"Are running." Myth pointed. "The Pack."
With a heavy sense of dread, Diana joined her new allies in staring down the road where a large group of dark-brown simian-like creatures was loping toward them. Peering into his scope, Dan was reminded of beefed up versions of the gremlins from the movie rather than apes – thick arms, broad chests, and extra-long, basketball-player legs. They loped along, slapping one hand to the ground every couple of strides like a third leg.
"That's them," said Diana.
"Hide!" Myth urged them, gesturing to the woods on their right side. "Maybe not see us."
"I'll second that," said Diana.
They crossed fifty yards of meadow before entering a thin smattering of trees. They kept moving, crossing another clearing into a thicker stretch of forest. Dan pulled up.
"We'll make a stand here," he said. "If they follow us in, that clearing will be our kill zone. Find a good firing position –"
A grunt sounded somewhere in the woods behind them. All of them froze. Dan raised a finger to his lips. The grunt repeated, along with a wet, smacking sound. Then the wind shifted, the faint odor wafting through the trees held a now-familiar edge: the smell of blood and exposed flesh. Diana shot Dan a warning look. He nodded. He waved his one palm downward, motioning quiet and edged one measured footstep at a time toward the sound, his rifle poised at his shoulder. Diana, Myth, and Penny followed.
They encountered another, smaller, clearing. In its center, thirty or forty feet away, a rhino-sized, winged beast was tearing apart a deer. The dragon, Diana thought. No way of knowing if it was the one who'd killed Dick's horses but to Diana's eyes it was its spitting image.
Craaacckk! The sound of a twig snapping paralyzed them. From Penny's embarrassed frown, Diana guessed she was the guilty party.
The dragon's head snapped up, in profile. One baleful dark-purple eye surveyed them, while blood and gore dribbled from its bony jaw. Dan raised his rifle, sighting in just above the creature's eye. Laurie wondered if a bullet would even penetrate the dense profusion of four to six-inch ivory-colored horns on its blocky, triangular head. The skin below its blue and grey streaked wings also looked armor-plated to her eye.
It lunged one step toward them, spitting out a harsh, nape hair-raising hiss. Three fingers curled on their triggers. The only thing stopping Dan from putting a bullet into its brain – assuming it would reach its brain – was that the shot might bring the simian creatures that Myth seemed to fear so much. Then he glimpsed movement in his right eye: Myth holding up her hand in reassurance.
"It okay," she whispered. "Won't hurt us you don't hurt."
Damned if the beast didn't ease back one step, the coiled muscles in its haunches appearing to relax. Dan and Diana angled their rifles downward, following Myth's lead. Watching them, more tension seemed to seep from the mini-dragon's tank-like body.
Snapping sounds in the woods at their backs wrenched them from their mellow moment. Turning, Dan knew he'd let the moment distract them, that he'd lost sight of their other potential enemy – the creatures they were fleeing –
And there they were. The forest was thick with them. They were large – much larger than they'd appeared through the scope – taller and more powerfully built than he was. Long-legged gorillas with triangular, baboon faces and vermillion red eyes. They had them encircled, the closest less than fifteen feet away. Dan felt a terrible sense of disappointment in himself that for a moment eclipsed his fear. This was what he was supposed to prevent. He'd allowed himself to be distracted. Understandable, perhaps, but understandable was about to get them all killed. The creatures seemed in no rush to charge, as if they knew they had victory well in hand.
"I'd suggest killing them," said Diana softly.
"Agreed," said Dan.
But as they brought their weapons to bear, the baboon-creatures sprang from behind the trees out into the field, running as though their lives depended on it. Diana and Dan exchanged disbelieving looks. Twenty or thirty of them were that afraid of three people with guns after having pursued them into here?
Something huge blasted past on their right. The mini-dragon – so close that the air ruffled Diana's hair. She caught one choking breath and turned in time to see the dragon catch one of the simian-creatures and drive it face-first into the grass. One brutal chomp to the back of its neck and the baboon-creature lay still. Another baboon turned back, shrieking, and charged the dragon, holding what appeared to be a wooden spear.
The dragon offered no response until the simian-creature was within a few yards. The baboon-creature launched its spear, which bounced harmlessly off the dragon's bony head crest.
The dragon dipped its head and charged. A cluster of horns pierced the baboon-creature's chest and throat. The creature gurgled out a final snarl, feebly clawing at the sides of the dragon's face. The dragon tossed it off with a contemptuous shake of its head, and the simian-alien lay twitching on the grass. The rest of the pack continued its flight, melting into the woods on the far side of the pasture.
The dragon turned back to them with a snort, as if, Diana thought, to say "Well, that nuisance disposed of" – and favored the three humans with a baleful gaze.
"Let's give it some space," Dan suggested.
"Right," said Diana.
She, Myth, and Penny followed his lead in moving well to one side of the creature's path back to the deer. The dragon grunted again and trotted back toward them toward the patch of woods. Penny gave him a friendly little wave, and the dragon paused, studying her for a moment before continuing past them toward its meal.
Dan let out a prolonged breath of relief and smiled as his daughter, who held a hand to her heart and exhaled with him. Myth gazed after the dragon with a thoughtful expression.
"Nazrene – The Pack – only fear two things," she said. "Elkor, one." She nodded to the retreating dragon. "And Sethisir."
"What's a 'Sethisir'?" Diana asked.
"Your friend. Zurzay."
"Oh."
"And the Keepers," Myth added. "All fear the Keepers."
"That's three things," said Diana.
"Math not strong point." Myth gave her a small smile.
"With any luck," said Dan, tapping his rifle, "they’ll soon add us to that list."
They walked back to the road, watching the forest where the "Nazrene/Pack" had disappeared. Their bikes were where they'd left them. As they resumed their journey, Diana couldn't help wondering how they would've fared if the "Elkor" dragon hadn't intervened. It was strange, she thought, that some of the most deadly of the alien creatures had acted as their allies.
They entered Minden less than an hour later. Smaller and more time-worn than Glenwald, its Main Street featured a collection of classic elderly small-town buildings occupied by the usual Mom and Pop grocery, hardware store, bank, barbershop, and a realty company. But the antiquated charms of Minden, Diana suspected, had never previously included sidewalks lined with bodies or a red pickup truck lodged halfway in the Rexall Drug store's display window.
After four blocks of business buildings, they branched out into the adjoining neighborhood that normally would display spotless driveways and putting-green yards among the older homes. Now the yards had become the final resting places of a startling number of senior citizens, their corpses slumped over rider mowers or sprawled on the grass beside them. The sweet-sickly odor of death was a low-hanging cloud over the neighborhood.
"They didn't have a hospital to go to," said Dan, his voice taut with apprehension. They were only a few blocks from his parents' home. He wasn't eag
er to see what he fully expected to see: his mom and dad lying pale and lifeless, their bodies bloated and stinking. That was not how he wanted to remember them.
They approached their house. Dan half-hoped they were outside on the lawn so they'd be spared going into the house. But no such luck.
"If you wouldn't mind," he said to them, "I'll check things out inside alone."
"Not a problem," said Diana. One group of human corpses in a home was enough to last her several lifetimes.
Dan entered the house through the unlocked front doors. A few minutes later, the big garage door creaked open and he emerged, relief written large on his face.
"The car's gone," he said, sounding both happy and puzzled. "If it had been just a local trip, they would've left the garage door open. They must've driven somewhere farther."
"Where would they go?" Diana asked.
"Maybe St. Cloud to visit my Aunt Mary. Maybe even the Cities. They have friends there."
He leaned on the hood of a compact car parked by the curb, gazing up one side of the street and down the other.
"Okay," he sighed. "I guess we should check out the whole town, now that we're here. Shouldn't take long."
Aside from the mostly older dead people, they noted a trail of half-devoured animal corpses in the yards and along the streets: cats, dogs – one a large Doberman – and even a few dead squirrels.
"Any idea which of your zoo creatures did this?" Dan asked Myth.
They stopped, and Myth dismounted from her bike, kneeling beside the body of a collie-mix. There wasn't much remaining but its head and tail.
"Maybe Ekorake?"
"What's that?" Diana asked.
Myth pantomimed flapping wings while making a buzzing sound.
"The killer elves?"
"Yes." Myth frowned. "But this not look right for them."
They continued their tour of the small neighborhood, arriving at a final cul-de-sac and the unexpected sight of an older, bearded man in tattered clothing perching on a second story roof chewing on a length of something. He jumped to his feet and waved whatever he was chewing on. His face was a deep tomato-red.
"Hello, fellow travelers!" he cried. "Greetings!"
Dan held up an uncertain hand. "Is it me, or does he look...?"
The bearded man tossed aside whatever he was holding and raced to the edge of the second story roof, springing without hesitation into the air. Diana had a powerful sense of déjà vu as the man descended toward what promised to be a bone-breaking conclusion.
More déjà vu when he landed on the lawn, rolling into a ball and springing to his feet with a wide grin.
"Adderall," Dan murmured. "Jesus."
"I'd say so," said Diana.
Penny sprang away from them up to greet the man. "Hi!" she cried. "You're like me!"
The man shied away from her, his smile crimping, as though she frightened him.
"Are you okay?" Dan asked. "That was quite a jump you just made."
"Yep. Fine. Do it all the time." He wiped a smear of what looked like ketchup from his mouth and his smile returned. "I'm Roy Johnson. Where are you good people from?"
"Glenwald. I'm Dan and this is Diana, Myth, and Penny." Dan cleared his throat softly. "Are you the only survivor in town?"
"Nope. My better half is still with us. She's out getting something to eat." The man regarded them with bright grey eyes. Predatory eyes, Diana thought.
"You sure you're okay?" Diana asked.
"Sure. Other than always being hungry. Getting harder to find stuff to eat around here."
"By stuff," said Dan, "do you mean cats, dogs, and squirrels?"
"Yup. And chickens." The man grimaced. "Don't like the feathers, but once you get past them it's good eats. Ruth and I tried to catch a deer, but it got away."
"How about people?" asked Diana.
The man's forehead wrinkled. "Huh?"
"Do you eat people?"
Diana thought she glimpsed something flash through his puzzled frown – a sudden narrowing of his eyes, as if he'd never considered that but it didn't seem so crazy.
"No, ma'am," he said. "'Course, there ain't no people alive around here." He focused on them with sudden, thoughtful intensity. "'Cept you people, that is."
"And your wife," said Dan.
"Right." He snorted out a short laugh. "Don't think she'd like it if I tried to eat her."
"Were you taking Adderall, by any chance?" Diana asked.
"What?" The man's eyes narrowed again at her. "How did you know?"
"Your red skin. She has it, too." Diana nodded to Penny, who preened. "We've seen it before. Adderall might be the reason you're still alive."
"Really? Never occurred to me. But then I'm a professor of sociology not Toxicology. I was simply looking for a bit more mental energy." His laugh was a short bark. "Now it's not necessary. I feel like a spring chicken these days. Can't hardly keep still."
"Man altered," Myth observed in a soft voice.
"No kidding," said Dan.
A gate banged open a few houses down and a disheveled fifty-something woman in a torn and badly soiled pink dress stepped out carrying the carcasses of a German shepherd and a large cat in either hand. She brightened instantly upon spotting them.
"Well hello, there, folks!" she bellowed. "Thank God someone else is alive in this godforsaken town! What a sight for sore eyes you are!"
She jogged up, half-dragging the dog, which left a trail of blood and viscera on the sidewalk. Diana, Dan, and Myth edged to one side with their bikes as the woman brushed past and deposited the animals on the grass. Penny bent over to sniff them.
"Didn't your mommy ever teach you it's rude to sniff other people's food," Roy growled.
Penny bunched her fists and Diana stepped hastily between them.
"Now, now, Roy, let's mind our manners," said the woman. Her skin was a paler shade of red than either Penny or the boy's, Diana noticed, but she still looked flushed or as if she'd spent too much time in the sun.
"I'm Ruth. Ruth Johnson." The woman wiped her hands on her dress and thrust one of them at Dan. "I expect you've met this scrawny troublemaker, my husband, Roy."
Dan grasped her hand briefly. "I'm Dan. This is Diana and Myth. And Penny."
"Pleased to meet you. Good to see a few of us still in the land of the living." She looked down at the two deceased former pets and sighed. "Oofta! What I'd give for some cow or pig. These dogs and cats are so rangy, doncha know. But you're still welcome to join us for lunch – fresh meat and coffee."
Diana and Dan stared at them. German Shepherd and coffee, Diana thought. Now there's an irresistible combination. She noticed that several chunks of flesh were missing from the Shepherd's shoulders as if the woman had been snacking on it along the way. She suppressed a shudder. It’s as if these people read too many zombie books. But at least they seemed friendly – more like Penny than Gary Hanson.
"Thanks," said Dan, "but I think we'll pass on that. Could I ask you two something?"
"Of course," said Ruth. "Ask away."
"There's a grocery store full of food. Why are you eating pets and wild animals – raw?"
Ruth's smile crumpled and her eyebrows developed bemused kinks. It was as if, Diana thought, the question had never occurred to her.
"But there's no fresh meat," she said. "The meat they have is spoiled, and the other stuff just tastes dead, if you know what I mean."
"That dog and cat are dead," said Laurie.
"Ya, but they're fresh. Blood's still warm."
"Have you been taking Adderall, by any chance?" Dan asked.
"Ha! How did you know? Roy's been on it for years – helped him keep up with the kids at the university – and one day he suggested I try it. And damned if it didn't clear up my head! So I got my own prescription."
"It appears to be one medication that helped at least some people survive whatever toxin was put into the air," said Diana. "But it also appears to cause some form of" – she paused to g
lance uneasily at Penny – "mental imbalance. One boy that was staying with us killed and ate his sister."
"Ha, well, that sounds awful," said Ruth. "Lucky for us we're right as rain."
"But you are aware that you've changed?" Dan asked. "That your former self would consider what you're doing now abnormal behavior?"
"How could we not change, young man?" groused the former sociology professor. "This is Armageddon. The world has fallen and the devils are among us!"
"But normal people don't eat pets!" Diana protested.
Ruth gave her a patronizing smile. "Each to his or her own, dear."
While they were talking, Roy was inching closer to Myth, sniffing loudly, his grin assuming a feral edge – looking more to Diana like an animal baring its teeth than a smile.
"Mr. Johnson," said Dan. "Would you mind backing off a bit?"
"Relax, son," said the older man. "Just picking up something intriguing from the beautiful young lady here."
"Roy," said Ruth Johnson, "Give the lady some room to breathe, for God's sake."
"Don't get your knickers in a knot, mother. Just wondering what perfume the gal's wearing."
"Not wear perfume," Myth assured him.
But the older man kept closing in, holding out a tentative hand to gently grasp a fold of Myth's sweater, like a child seeking comfort. Dan drew his Glock. Diana followed suit with her pistol.
"Roy," said Dan. "You need to back off. Now."
Roy slid in against Myth, drool spilling from his gaping mouth. Strangely, rather than resisting, Myth seemed to welcome the embrace, gathering the man into her arms. But as Roy nestled in, his exposed canines headed for Myth's throat, Myth's own mouth opened, and something projected from her lips that reminded Diana of a fleshy grab shovel from one of Dick Larsen's tractors. The fleshy protuberance latched onto Roy's forehead and then was covered by Myth's mouth, as if she was kissing him on the head. The man's eyes went wide.
Ruth Johnson moved forward – but shuffled back holding up her hands when Diana pointed her pistol at her. Dan edged around Myth and placed the muzzle of his Glock on the old man's temple.
"Last warning," he said.
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