M Banner - Silo - Summer's End

It reminded Fletcher of squishing ants, at least until the horde ripped the door open on the cab and forced the driver out. He disappeared into a flail of revenge, his life now in pieces and part of their digestive system.

Summer must have seen all this, too. She took a quick step back and stumbled, as did Edison, both of them landing on the ground with surprised looks on their faces.

A quartet of Scabs closed on Edison’s position, looking as though they were going to attack. However, that was not what happened. They scampered past the old man and Summer as if they weren’t sitting there defenseless.

The four Scabs had eyes on Heston, taking a direct path toward him. The man turned and ran toward another building, this one smaller and made of wood instead of brick.

Krista ran to Edison’s defense as more Scabs advanced. She took position in front of him, then unleashed two more rounds.

Summer worked the professor to his feet, while Krista’s bullets hit the mark, liberating skin from bone in a dramatic spray of marksmanship.

Krista pulled the trigger again, but the gun only clicked.

Two of Krista’s men joined her as a dozen Scabs descended on their location. Her troops fired their pistols, but soon their ammo ran out as well, leaving them no choice but to go hand-to-hand.

The men wrestled and punched, throwing haymakers, elbows, and jabs. They repelled a few Scabs, but it wasn’t long before they disappeared under the weight of the pack, their limbs getting torn to pieces in a flurry of teeth.

Krista slipped away just as Heston’s men arrived for additional support. The guards tried to stop the carnage in progress, but they were no match for the sheer number of targets.

Moments later, Heston’s men became Scab food as well, their torsos shredded inside a bloody wrap of clothes.

Frost ran to the edge of the melee and snatched a sheath lying on the ground. It was still attached to a leather belt that used to belong to one of Heston’s cowboys.

Two Scabs turned and noticed him, changing their focus. Frost didn’t hesitate, letting loose with a sharp right, stinging the chin of the closest Scab. The barely human assailant went flying, tumbling sideways as if it had just been hit by a bus.

Frost brought his other fist around and under, nailing the second Scab with a powerful uppercut, landing a blow under its jaw. The punch sent the cannibal into the air. Like the first, its consciousness disappeared into the dark recesses of dreamland.

Frost made a hasty retreat, pulling the ten-inch hunting knife from its sheath. He dropped the belt and brought the blade up, its edge glistening under the burn of the sun.

The man held off another Scab by gripping his giant hand around its throat. He lifted the Scab off the ground, sending its eyes wide and skinny legs into a dangle. Its tongue flopped out of its mouth in a gurgle as its face turned a deep shade of red.

Frost brought the dagger up and gutted the meat-eater in an upward, slicing motion, starting at its navel and ending mid-chest. He tossed the dead Scab aside, then took a step back, taking position in front of Summer.

Fletcher couldn’t believe his eyes when Frost put his arms out with the blade in a defensive posture, looking as though he was prepared to defend the girl and the professor.

Then it happened.

Frost whirled around and jammed the knife into the side of Edison’s neck. The tip entered the skin just under the ear, sinking deep.

Edison gasped.

Summer screamed.

Frost withdrew the blade with a quick yank, dragging tissue and blood with it.

Edison brought his hand up and covered the wound as blood shot out in spurts, squirting red between the gaps in his fingers.

Krista’s attention came around. She froze with her face stiff as Edison toppled to the ground. A moment later, she ran to the professor, only to get decked by a swift roundhouse punch from Frost.

She flew sideways with her shoulder hitting the dirt first, then her body twisted, smacking the back of her head into the ground in a whiplash motion. She lay there stiff, her arms and legs no longer moving.

Frost bent down to Edison and readied the blade again, aiming the bloody tip at the man’s eye.

Summer let out a roar as she jumped onto his arm, her hands latching onto his bulging forearm. She pulled and twisted, wrapping her legs around his neck, trying to leverage the weapon away from Frost.

Frost tore Summer off with a yank to her hair, making her scream as he swung his shoulders. His power and weight sent her flying like a ragdoll.

She hit the ground hard, her butt landing first, then her elbows and back, making her wince after the impact.

The dog joined the fight, running and leaping at Frost, its powerful jaw clamping down on his wrist. Teeth entered skin, making Frost cry out in pain.

Dice stood firm. So did Fletcher, both men watching the dog tear into their boss. Neither of them moved while Frost battled Sergeant Barkley, whose paws were off the ground, its entire body hanging from the man’s arm.

Frost brought the knife around and let out a commando scream as he stabbed the dog in the hip.

Sergeant Barkley yelped, causing him to let go and fall to the ground in a twisted lump of fur. The dog squealed and whimpered, its head looking heavier than its body as it looked back at Summer.

When Fletcher saw Frost take a step toward Summer with the knife in a striking position, he took action. He used a flying leg kick, nailing Frost in the center of the chest.

The collision altered Frost’s course, sending the goliath stumbling backwards, his feet trying to regain their footing. He fell on his ass about ten yards later, landing in front of a knot of Scabs approaching from the rear.

The hunger gang surrounded Frost as he got to his feet. He managed to fight off several, landing punches to their heads and blade strikes to their necks.

He outweighed them by a hundred pounds each, but soon there were too many. They dogpiled, gnawing at him like a pack of wolves, ripping the man’s clothes from his body, then tearing into his skin.

Fletcher went to Edison and scooped him up, carrying the senior in his arms. “Hang in there, Professor. We’re going to get you out of here.”

Dice shook Krista, rousing her from her dirt nap. She pushed to her feet, looking dazed.

“You okay?” Dice asked.

“Barely,” she answered, her dazed eyes scanning the scene. She rubbed her jaw, then opened and closed it, obviously testing to see how badly she was injured.

“We need to go!” Dice said, nudging her forward. He looked at Summer. “You too.”

Summer ignored the man and ran to Sergeant Barkley, her face smothered in tears. The animal lifted its head to greet her, then tried to stand but couldn’t, its hind legs covered in blood.

“Come on, I’ve got you,” Summer said, scooping the animal up in her arms. She turned in a flash and ran to join the group, all of them heading at an angle to the left—the only direction free of Scabs—for the moment, anyway.

Krista jogged alongside Fletcher as her adversary carried Edison in his arms. She matched Fletcher’s stride, step by step, allowing her to keep her hands pressing on the wound in the professor’s neck. “We need to pick up the pace, Fletcher.”

“I’m trying, Carr, but he’s heavy for an old man.”

She smirked. “He does like his pancakes in the morning.”

“Here, let me,” Dice said to Summer, the two of them following ten yards to the rear.

Krista glanced back to see Dice holding his arms out, motioning to take Sergeant Barkley from Summer.

“Nah, I got him,” Summer said with strain in her voice. The animal’s head hung loose, bobbing as she fast-walked. So did its legs, flopping like cooked spaghetti. “Come on boy, stay with me. Please.”