David Robbins - Atlanta Run

“Where do you suppose it came from?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Get going.”

“I’ve never seen one like it before,” Chastity remarked.

“Me neither. Let’s go,” Hickok urged her.

“Do you think there are more just like it?”

“Most likely,” Hickok said impatiently. “Where there’s one, there are bound to be others.”

Chastity glanced at the vegetation. “Would they be near here?”

“Don’t fret,” Hickok responded. “Any other critters are miles from this spot.”

A roar of unbridled rage proved the gunman wrong a moment later as a trio of mutated apes charged from the forest, converging in a feral fury on the man and the girl.

There was no time to unsling the M-16. Hickok drew the Colts and fired the right Magnum, then the left, and each shot was on target. One of the mutants was hit between the eyes and flipped backwards. The second mutant angled to the right as the Warrior fired, bearing down on Chastity, and the movement saved its life. The bullet intended for its forehead instead perforated the fleshy portion of its cheek and exited through its ear. Stunned, the beast doubled over in agony.

Chastity bolted for the woods.

Hickok pivoted and triggered the Pythons, both slugs tearing into the third ape, ripping into its chest and spinning it around in its tracks. He thumbed the hammer on his left Colt and sent a shot into the creature’s brain, and as the mutant crumpled he turned his attention to the injured ape. Too late.

The wounded brute rammed into the Warrior and encircled him with its skinny arms, the impact of its assault propelling both of them rearward.

Hickok felt his feet leave the ground, and with a start he realized they were going over the edge of the pit. The beast’s lurid features were within inches of his own, its yellowish fangs spearing for his throat. If those glistening teeth didn’t get him, the ten-foot plunge just might. He smashed his forehead into the ape’s nostrils and twisted, jerking his body in a spin to the left, his momentum upending the creature and reversing their placement so that the mutant was on the bottom when they landed with a bone-jarring impact.

The beast released its prey, arched its back in torment, and tossed the human aside.

Hickok rolled to a stop on his abdomen, dazed, the Pythons clenched in his hands. If he didn’t recover before the mutant, he was a goner. His chest ached terribly, but he suppressed the pain and forced his arms and legs to function, rising slowly and facing his bestial foe.

The mutant was already up.

Hickok elevated the Colts, his reaction sluggish, and he was unable to shoot before the ape took two steps and swung its left arm, connecting with his right temple and knocking him over.

The thing uttered a triumphant howl.

On his left side in the dirt and debris, dust swirling about him, Hickok looked up at the creature as it advanced. He raised his right arm.

With a savage snarl, the ape pounced, its knobby knees driving into the Warrior’s midriff, its right fist pounding the gunman on the jaw.

Hickok nearly blacked out. A wave of vertigo washed over him, and he could taste his blood on the tip of his tongue. Another blow snapped his teeth together, and he abruptly perceived that he was on the verge of losing his life. What a stupid way to die, he mentally noted, killed by a deformed monkey!

The ape locked its fingers on the gunman’s throat.

“Leave him alone, you bad monster!”

The pressure on his neck unexpectedly loosened, and Hickok took deep breaths to clear his head. He gazed upward, astonished to behold Chastity at the pit rim.

“You leave my new daddy alone!” she shouted defiantly.

Distracted by the yells, the ape was glaring at the child, its lips twitching, crimson flowing over its chin and ear.

“Leave him alone, you meany!” Chastity hollered.

The mutant roared and beat its fists on its chest.

Momentarily ignored, Hickok used the reprieve to gather his strength, feeling his senses returning to normal. He blinked rapidly, and happened to glance at the earthen floor in front of him. A tingle of excitement galvanized him as lie spied a veritable godsend: the Uzi! He’d forgotten all about it during the fight!

Having decided the girl was not a threat, the ape was turning toward its original adversary.

Hickok dropped the Colts, seized the Uzi, and tucked the stock against his chest as the mutant completed its turn; he flicked off the safety as the creature bent forward; he squeezed the trigger when the ape’s nails were within a hand’s-breadth of his throat.

The burst stitched into the mutant and flung it backwards to crash into the pit wall, snarling insanely.

His lips compressed tightly, Hickok rose to his right knee, firing all the while, the 9-mm slugs perforating the beast’s face and torso and causing it to dance like a puppet on strings. The gunfighter kept the trigger depressed until all 25 rounds in the magazine were expended, and he only ceased firing after the gun clicked empty.

The sudden silence was unnerving.

“Hickok? Are you okay?”

The Warrior licked his dry lips and looked up, mustering a weary grin.

“I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

“I couldn’t let him hurt you,” Chastity said. “You haven’t made up your mind yet.”

Hickok started to laugh, but an intense spasm in his left side checked his mirth. He wondered if one of his ribs was cracked or broken, and he vaguely recalled a searing pang when he fell into the pit, as if he had landed on a hard object. But the mutant had cushioned his descent. Or so he’d thought. He scanned the floor as he recovered his Colts and found the answer.

The M-16. The rifle was lying in the dirt at the exact spot of impact.

The gunman winced as he moved to the gun. He speculated that the stock of the M-16 had been wedged between the mutant’s body and his own as they landed, and the weapon had slid from his shoulder before the creature had thrown him off.

“Are you coming up?” Chastity asked. “There may be more of those icky things.”

Hickok snatched up the M-16 and stepped to the pole. She could be right, and he didn’t want to tangle with another one of those mutants if he could help it. He aligned the Uzi over his left shoulder, the M-16 over his right, and painfully climbed from the pit.

Chastity was staring at the forest as he came over the rim.

“You saved my life, princess,” Hickok said, pausing on his hands and knees. He needed to reload his weapons, but a minute of rest couldn’t hurt.

Or could it.

“There’s something out there,” Chastity said fearfully.

Hickok pushed himself erect. “Are you sure?” he asked, and then he heard the noise too. The unmistakable sound of something approaching through the undergrowth. Blast! How many mutants were there?

Chastity moved closer to him and gripped his right pants leg. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

Hickok agreed. He was opening his mouth to tell her to take off when the figures materialized in the trees.

He wasn’t certain if he was awake or dreaming. Confused, he listened to unfamiliar voices while he grappled with a strange mental fog.

“…most extraordinary. I doubt we have his equal anywhere in the city.”

“He does have superb musculature, I’ll grant you that.”

“We should permit the science techs to examine him.”

“What? And ruin a perfect specimen by having him dissected? What a waste.”

“Do you have a preference, Lilith?”

“Yes, Sol. As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Then let’s hear it.”

“Give him to me. My psychology staff will turn him. I guarantee it.”