Pittacus Lore - The Fall of Five

I look around. The area is clear. The Monster Mart and its surroundings are pock- marked from blaster fire, and there’s still a plume of smoke curling up from the woods. Besides the dark patches on the ground where the dead Mogadorians turned to ash, there is no sign of our attackers. We wiped them out.

Sarah walks over to us, the Mog blaster propped up on her shoulder. “Is that it?”

“I think so,” I say, keeping my voice level. I feel like fist-pumping and high-fiving, but want to keep it cool. “For once, I think we caught them by surprise.”

“Is it always this easy?” Five asks.

“No,” I tell him. “Now that we’re all together, though . . .” I trail off, not wanting to jinx it. That fight couldn’t have gone much better. Granted, it was only one ship worth of Mogadorians; they’ve got entire armies stationed in West Virginia and elsewhere, not to mention Setrákus Ra. Even so, we mowed them down in record time, and I don’t think any of us suffered an injury. Yesterday, when Nine was all gung-ho for storming West Virginia and seeking out a rematch with Setrákus Ra, I’d tried to get across that I didn’t think we were ready for that. Now, after this performance, maybe it’s time to reconsider our odds.

“Where’s Six?” I ask, glancing around. “Someone must’ve heard that ship crash. We need to get out of here before the cops show.”

As if in answer, a low rumble comes from the tree line, from the direction where the Mogadorian ship fell. I shine my Lumen that way just in time to see Six sprinting towards us, waving her arms.

“Incoming!” she shouts.

“What’s incoming?” Five asks, swallowing.

“Sounds like Piken,” I reply.

There’s a sharp breaking noise—the sound of a tree being uprooted and snapped. Something huge is coming this way. I put my hand on Sarah’s shoulder.

“Get back,” I tell her. “You need to stay behind us.”

She looks at me, her grip tight on the Mogadorian blaster. For a moment, I’m worried she’s going to argue, even though she knows fighting a Piken is way different than being in a firefight with Mogs. Shooting from behind cover is one thing. Going toe-to-toe with a monster that thinks blaster fire tickles—that’s something else entirely. Sarah touches my hand, lets her fingers linger for just a moment, and then breaks away, running for cover near the post office.

“What the hell is that?” asks Five, still standing next to me, now pointing towards the tree line.

We both see the monster at the same time as it bursts from the trees, bearing down on Six. But I don’t answer Five. I actually can’t answer because, whatever this thing is, I don’t have a name for it. It’s like a centipede the size of a tanker truck, its wormlike body covered in cracked and leathery skin. Hundreds of tiny gnarled arms extend from its body, churning up earth as it rumbles forward with surprising quickness. At the front is a face sort of reminiscent of a pit bull—flat, with a wet snout, and a slavering mouth that opens upon rows of jagged teeth. In the center of its face is a single unblinking eye, bloodshot and full of malice. I remember the horde of creatures the Mogs had caged in West Virginia; as nasty beasts go, this guy would be at the top of my list.

Fast as Six is, she isn’t faster than this thing. The centipede draws even with her and then jerks sideways. Its back half—the tail—pivots upwards, the bulk of it towering over Six for a moment before crashing down.

Six throws herself to the side just in time to avoid being crushed. Chunks of ground spray out from where the tail landed and made a huge indentation in the ground. Six is quickly back on her feet, driving her sword into the centipede’s body. It hardly seems to notice, its twisting body recoiling with enough speed to jerk the sword out of Six’s hands.

“How are we supposed to kill that thing?” Five asks, taking a step back.

My mind races for an answer. What advantages do we have over this one-eyed worm thing? It’s fast, but bulky and confined to the ground. . . .

“You can fly, right?” I ask Five.

“How’d you know that?” he asks, his eyes locked on the beast. “Yeah, I can.”

“Pick me up,” I tell him. “We need to stay above this thing.”

As the centipede rounds on Six again, I see Bernie Kosar leap onto its back. He’s back in panther form, digging his claws deep through the monster’s hide. With an annoyed squeal, the centipede rolls through the dirt, forcing BK to jump off or be crushed beneath its bulk. The distraction is enough for Six to create some distance between her and the beast. She turns invisible.

“It’ll be easier if you’re on my back,” Five says, kneeling down in front of me.

I’d feel goofy hopping on Five’s back piggyback style if it wasn’t a life-or-death situation. As soon as I’m on, Five shoots into the air. It isn’t like the shaky levitation we can all manage using our telekinesis; he’s fast, precise, in control. Five gets us about thirty feet in the air, right above the centipede. I start bombarding the creature with fireballs, tossing them down as fast I can generate them. Charred sores open up on its back, a horrible stink rising up in the air.

“Disgusting,” mutters Five.

The centipede roars in pain, coiling in on itself. Its huge eye sweeps frantically across the battlefield. Its tiny brain can’t really register where the pain is coming from. I keep up the assault, hoping I can kill this thing from above before it even knows what’s happening.

My next fireball flies wide of the beast as Five dips suddenly towards the ground. Jostled, I grab onto the back of his shirt until he’s flying straight again. His shirt is soaked through with sweat.

“You all right?” I ask, shouting to be heard over the rushing wind and the howling centipede.

“Not easy carrying around a flamethrower,” he yells back, trying to joke, but his voice sounds strained.

“Just another minute. Hang in there!”

The centipede’s eye rolls back in its head and up, spotting us. It roars again, this time almost gleefully, and then its body lances upwards, all its tiny arms grasping at the air. Its hideous face shoots towards us, teeth gnashing. Five screams and we zip backwards in the air, the beast swallowing empty space where we used to be.

The sudden change in direction throws me off Five’s back, my hand clutching a ripped piece of his T-shirt. I’m falling.

I’m able to push against the ground enough with my telekinesis to somewhat cushion my landing. If not for that, I probably would’ve broken a leg hitting the ground. Still, the wind is knocked out of me. And, to make matters worse, I hit the ground right in front of the beast.

Distantly, I can hear Six and Sarah shouting at me to run. It’s too late for that. The centipede is just forty yards away, rumbling towards me. Its mouth is wide open, a foul stench emanating from the darkness of its gullet.

I brace myself and ignite my Lumen all over my body. If this thing wants to make a meal out of me, I’m going to make sure I burn going down. As long as I can jump past those rows of teeth, I can probably burn my way right through the thing. Getting swallowed by a Mogadorian centipede isn’t my best plan, admittedly, but in the seconds I have before it’s right on top of me, it’s the best I can come up with.

As it gets closer, I see a red dot reflected in the centipede’s eye, like the beam from a laser pointer. Where is that coming from?

A single gunshot explodes from somewhere behind me.

The monster’s eye explodes. It’s just a few yards from me, and I’m splashed with foul-smelling eye goop. It shrieks and rears up, forgetting all about me. I use the opportunity to backpedal, lobbing fireballs at the creature’s underbelly as I go. The beast starts convulsing, its tail thrashing with enough force to make the ground under my feet shake. After one last, massive spasm, the centipede collapses into the dirt and begins to slowly disintegrate.