K Stewart - A Shot in the Dark

And while we were all looking that way, three more hit us from the other side. Even as I turned belatedly, cussing at myself for falling for the ruse, one of them leaped at Will and I knew I couldn’t get there in time. I shouldn’t have doubted my buddy. For all that he pretends to be a bumbling doofus, his mind is sharp and his reflexes were even better. The creature skewered itself on Will’s fireplace poker, then went flying into a tree as Will gave a huge heave and flung it off. It wasn’t a killing wound, though, and the thing went scurrying off into the trees again before we could go after it.

Cole did manage to take out one with a clean shot to the head, but the other was into us too fast, and he couldn’t risk the shot. I saw Oscar brace himself for the oncoming charge, and knew he just didn’t have the skill to take the thing down in close quarters. “Oscar! Down!”

I couldn’t use my sword without hitting someone friendly, so I just lowered my head and met the thing in a full-out body block. I felt its ribs crack against my shoulder, the decaying bones fracturing wetly. I also felt it sink its long fingernails into my many layers of T-shirts and hang on for the ride. Did not count on that.

We went down in a heap of raking nails and clacking teeth as the thing tried to take a bite out of me and only got my pack. There was more shouting, dimly heard through my damaged ears, but with my face pressed into the muddy grass, I wasn’t exactly in the best position to see what was happening.

The minion wasn’t heavy by any means, and I got myself up to my hands and knees at least by the time it reversed itself to make a lunge at my neck. I jerked my head back and smashed its face, feeling the sticky goo creep down the back of my neck.

“Don’t move!” It was Cole’s voice, and I froze immediately. The heavy metal clang that followed reverberated in my teeth. The creature fell off my back, and the gunshot after made my head throb. I raised my head to find my little brother standing over me, gun in one hand and one of the CO 2 tanks in the other. Let’s hear it for improvisational weapons.

Unfortunately, two dead wasn’t even going to stop them. In and out they darted, testing our flanks, moving too fast for us to even get a count. It didn’t help that, aside from the handless female, it was hard as hell to tell the nasty things apart. They moved in unison like the first time, coordinating to snap and harry us on all sides.

We couldn’t move like this. Marty was fighting Duke more than anything, struggling to keep the dog from barreling off into the trees, and it was impossible for us to hold a tight defensive formation while in motion. Face it, we weren’t trained soldiers.

“Cam, if you know any tricks that won’t kill you, this might be the time to use them.”

He said something that I couldn’t quite hear, not looking at him as I was, but it sounded affirmative. The next time the beasties made a try for us, he raised one hand in the air, opening his fist as he shouted, “ Prima luce! ”

Light burst all around us, lighting up the underbrush like high noon. There was a crash in the trees as the things retreated in a panic, and then all was silence. Cameron sank slowly to the ground, panting. Fresh blood stained the bandage on his head.

I did a quick glance around, but no one else seemed to be hurt. A few bumps and bruises maybe, and Zane of course was looking more like death warmed over the farther we went, but we were upright. Mostly.

And what the hell was up with the Yeti’s pets? I thought they were supposed to be animalistic, wild, but they were obviously thinking, planning. They weren’t supposed to be able to do that, without the Yeti to guide them. Which meant… they had another leader?

The handless female had left the roof last night, rather than face Cole and me. She’d left the others to fight and die, but she’d retreated. She was smarter. Cunning. Their tactics were just like Marty’d said, like a pack of wolves. A pack could bring down something the size of a moose, just by constantly darting in and out and wearing it to exhaustion. I didn’t think my little group stood any better chance in the condition we were in.

Cole popped his clip, shaking his head at his dwindling ammo. When he caught me looking, he frowned. “We can’t keep fighting these things hand to hand, and I’ve got half a clip left.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think paintball guns are going to take them down. If anyone has a better idea, let’s hear it.” He was right, though. In close quarters, we were more hazardous to ourselves than anything, and if we spread out too much, we’d be easier targets. And if the Yeti came back and entered the fray, we were all screwed.

Marty fished his possibly illegal slingshot out of his pack and fastened it to his arm. “If we can find some rocks, I can try this out.” No one really had any inclination to go rock hunting off the trail, however.

“Will it shoot paintballs?”

Marty shrugged. “For whatever good it would do, yeah, I suppose. Not gonna hurt much, but damn they’ll be pretty while they eat our faces off.”

My gaze happened to fall on Cameron, still crumpled on the ground. “Cam…? How much juice you have left?”

He raised his eyes, and I instantly regretted asking. His face was gray, drawn, and his pupils were dilated oddly. He wasn’t doing well. “I can’t do the light again. Only works once, and it didn’t hurt them, just scared them. It’s a novice’s trick…”

He was done in. Drained, nothing left. I could see that. And I asked anyway. “Could you put a blessing on something? Just a little?” Defensive magic took less than the big attack spells. Maybe, it would be enough less.

He took a long time to answer, so long that I wondered if he could even hear me. Wasn’t I supposed to be the deaf one? Finally, he nodded. “Nothing big, like a patch of ground. But something small, yes. I think so.”

“Guys, get your markers out. Have Cam magic the paintballs.” They all looked at me like I was crazy. “Come on, we don’t have much time!”

It took a few minutes to get the guns assembled, and another few for Cameron to gather up the willpower to actually cast the blessing. At the last second, Marty stuck a pocketful of change in the pile too, and we wound up with holy quarters and nickels. Hey, if he thought he could shoot those with a slingshot, more power to him.

I could smell the cloves on the air as Cameron passed his hands over the colorful jumble of ammunition, but the scent was so faint. The priest was just plain out of mojo, and I honestly wasn’t sure if he’d make it down the trail. If we couldn’t carry Zane, we damn sure couldn’t carry Zane and Cam.

I gave Zane my marker, hoping he could at least fire off a few shots with his good arm, and slipped my now free left hand under Cameron’s arms as he stood up. “All right, folks, hobble like your lives depend on it.”

It took a bit for the nasties to rally and come at us again. It was possible that they were afraid of Cam’s light, but I didn’t believe that. Handless was figuring out a better way to kill us. We got about fifteen minutes of peace and a good chunk of distance behind us without incident.

Then the howls started up, the voices all around, echoes of other people’s lives.

“I’m a little teapot!”

“Pow, right in the kisser!”

“Hey, does this smell funny to you?” The tiny bit of protection from Cameron’s blessed water still held, but that didn’t make it any less nerve-racking, marching through this gauntlet of macabre commercial slogans and sitcom theme songs.

It did occur to me, sometime during my stint as Cameron’s crutch, that we were leading the creatures down into a populated area. Sure, Ericson’s store wasn’t exactly a teeming metropolis, but there were innocents there. Somewhere along the way, we’d have to make a stand, get rid of as many of them as possible, or subject everyone there to the seductive lure of the stolen voices.