K Stewart - A Shot in the Dark

Any minute wasn’t soon enough. I walked out the door, taking my sword with me. I felt the guys’ eyes on me, all of them wondering what was up. Cole said, “Jess?” but I ignored him. I didn’t have an answer yet anyway.

Cameron joined me on the porch, and I swear he raised his head to sniff the air, which might have been odd if I hadn’t just done the same thing. The faint scent was gone… no, wait. I breathed deep again, and caught just the hint of it. Sulfur on the fitful breeze. The icy prickles across my arms were painful, and I drew my katana free of its scabbard, flexing my fingers on the hilt.

It could be Axel. I already knew he was in the area. But it didn’t feel like Axel. Maybe it made me an idiot, but Axel didn’t strike this deep chord of terror that I felt coiling around in my guts. He had never triggered my “danger sense,” not like this.

I strained my eyes at the tree line, as if I could make Zane Quinn materialize by sheer force of will. “Come on… get back here.. .”

His voice preceded him, sounding garish and out of place in the suddenly silent wood. As he broke the tree line, I could see the boy’s head bobbing as he sang off-key to whatever music was playing on his player. His arms were loaded with chopped wood, high enough that he could barely see over the top.

Far to our west, over the mountains that blocked our view, into an ocean we couldn’t even see from here, the sun set.

“Behind him…” I saw the movement even as Cam breathed the words. Something was moving in the trees behind Zane. Something dark, coming on fast in odd leaps and bounds from branch to trunk to forest floor.

“Zane! RUN!” I was off the porch and running before I realized it, and the teenager blinked at me in surprise instead of obeying. The hesitation cost him instantly.

In those first horrifying seconds, I couldn’t tell you how many there were, or even what they were. They were shapes, lean, lithe, springing across the open area in inhuman leaps. I demanded more speed from my feet, but it wasn’t going to do any good. I was only human, and I knew those things weren’t. I’d never reach him in time.

Two of them burst from the brush to my right and bowled into Zane. The firewood went flying. The copper tang of blood burst into the unnaturally still air, and the boy screamed in pain. Four more pounced down out of the overhanging branches, landing on their fellows, on Zane, without thought for safety. After that, I lost count, but there were more. So many more.

Without breaking stride, I waded in with my sword, feeling the resistance as it met solid forms, sliced yielding flesh. I had to clear them fast, before hitting the kid became too great a risk. There was no beauty to it. I hacked and slashed where I could, my momentum carrying me through them and out the far side. I figured at least a few would pursue me, but not a single one did. Like sharks in a frenzy, they swarmed to that blood scent.

“Here! On me!” I yelled. I stabbed, I sliced, and it was like kicking at the Rock of Gibraltar. I didn’t have what they wanted, so I didn’t exist.

The one on top of Zane reared up and I thrust through its shoulder, my blade appearing a good three inches out the back. The creature’s face drew up in a rictus of pain, but it made no sound, even as I kicked it off my sword. Its face was smeared almost black with fresh blood, what remained of its rotten teeth coated and sticky with it. And worst of all, it looked almost human. Whatever it was, it seemed to suddenly understand fear and pain because another slash from my sword had it hopping backward, moving on all fours at times, and on two legs at others.

Things got tricky after that. The kid was in there somewhere, thrashing and screaming, and the things on him were getting in their own way more than not. It was like sorting through the football huddle from Hell.

Finally, I caught a glimpse of bright fabric and made a wild grab with my free hand. It was the collar of Zane’s jacket, and I bodily dragged him out from under the writhing pile. There was no time to get him on his feet, and I didn’t wait to see if he even could. Getting a good grip, I started dragging, taking swipes at the creatures that got too close. There were more than I’d thought, swarming out of the trees, massing at the dark pools of Zane’s blood that gathered in the grass. Those that couldn’t get near those delectable morsels were flanking me, intent on retrieving the meal I’d just stolen from them.

Zane was still functional enough to kick with his legs, either in defense or scrabbling desperately to put distance between himself and his attackers. His heel connected with a shrunken, skeletal nose, the bone crunching wetly.

A hand reached for me, dark with filth and God knows what else, and I severed it at the wrist. The thing recoiled in silence, but its fellows closed the gap.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the things circling, trying to get between me and the cabin, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Instinct, that primal lizard voice in the back of your brain, told me to drop the kid, to bolt for the cabin. Damn good thing I was an evolved primate. I kept moving, hauling Zane back over the rough ground as quickly as I could, hoping to God I didn’t trip on something and go down. It would be the end for both of us.

An explosion shattered the eerie silence, and it took me a second to recognize the sound of Cole’s gun. One of the things on my left was ripped away, sent asshole over appetite by my brother’s shot. Some part of me could hear him shouting my name, screaming for me to move move move! And not just Cole. All the guys were scattered across the front porch, caught somewhere between “What the fuck?!” and “Lemme at’em!” ’Cause face it, I’m the only one dumb enough to run headlong into something like that.

Another shot sounded, but there were too many of the things scrambling after me to see if it did any good. Three of them charged from my right, more than I could take at once, and just as I braced to take one or two of them out before they got me down, I was nearly flattened by two hundred pounds of brindle mastiff as he hurtled past me. Duke’s bellow added to the chaos, and the big dog tore into two of my attackers with a raging fury I never imagined he possessed.

I heard bones snap in those massive jaws, and not once did any of the creatures make a noise. The only voices I could hear were my buddies, Cole screaming at me and Marty shouting at Duke, and a panicked breathy shriek from the kid I was dragging across the clearing.

Duke seemed to grasp the idea of a fighting retreat, and as soon as he’d beaten the creatures back, he was at my side, a rumbling growl in his barrel chest but backing up step by step just as I did.

My heels hit something solid, and for a split second, I just knew I was done for. Then hands reached past me to grab Zane, to haul him up the porch steps and inside. Somehow, we’d made it. I slashed at two more of the things that were bold enough to come within my reach, and they danced back. Duke gave a lunge, and they scattered farther. I made a grab for his collar, keeping him from chasing after them. That’s what they wanted.

The silent ring of… things crouched there, just out of reach, watching us with an unearthly light behind their eyes. Their skin was pale, under the grime and gore, their shapes almost human in an emaciated, hungry way. Hairless, naked, gender only visible as a seeming afterthought. The one with the missing hand was definitely female, and the sight made bile rise in the back of my throat. The creature herself seemed oblivious to the limb that ended in a jagged stub, crouching amongst her fellows. A few of them rocked from side to side, breath whistling out of their throats. Keening, I realized. Howling without voices. And they sat there. Waiting.