Christopher Rice - The Heavens Rise

Another one landed a searing, direct hit, tearing a chunk of flesh from his eyelid. He screamed despite himself, felt his knees slam to the concrete. They’re going for my eyes. She’s here. She’s here and she’s trying to blind me. Then he heard one of them slap to the concrete next to them, and then another. And a third, and the air around him felt still suddenly.

He was wiping the blood from his eyes, blinking furiously, telling himself they hadn’t pierced his eyeball, that he would be in agony if they had, and that when he was able to see again, he’d see them littering the walkway around him, their skulls exploded like all the animals who were subjected to a power like his own.

“Nikki Delongpre?” he growled.

But once he said her name aloud, realization hit. Three birds at once. There’d been three birds at once, and unless she was infinitely more powerful than him, there was no way she could have hooked more than one animal at a time. He’d tried countless times and failed. She wasn’t alone.

He was still wiping the blood from his eyes when he felt sudden movement around his legs, then in between them, the brush of cold, tensile skin. His vision cleared just enough for him to see the giant snake coiling itself around his knees. The exhibit’s star attraction, freed from its tank and coiling around his waist now. He managed to lift one arm above his head, but the other was pinned underneath the sudden constriction, and immediately his lung cried out in protest as he felt the squeeze. The son of a bitch was ten feet long uncoiled, so thick he probably wouldn’t have been able to fit both hands around its body.

And now its expressionless eye was level with his, its giant head sliding over his chest, and when he went to scream, there wasn’t enough breath left in his lungs to give voice to its terror. He had one free arm, but when he went to claw the thing’s eye out, the mouth opened and swallowed his hand. And the knowledge that it was human intention— her intention—driving the snake’s seemingly emotionless movements only added fury to his terror. He tried to say her name, but what came out was a slurred perversion of it that made him sound brain-damaged. And he prepared himself to die, on his knees, splinted by the snake’s unnatural constriction, his vision finally cleared of his own blood.

Then the snake’s head exploded, and its suddenly lifeless body lost its coil, sliding down him gradually. He pulled his hand free of the mass of gore that had once been its head and used it to push himself out of the snake’s ghostly coil. The last few movements needed to free himself made him look like a bride stepping out of a wedding gown she’d let puddle on the floor.

Another sharp crack from high above, but nothing animal about it. Another rain of glass from the shattered ceiling. Only there was a disturbance in the high mound of jungle foliage a few feet away in advance of the impact. A startled movement that was all too human. The fresh rain of glass was about to expose someone’s hiding place.

Ben Broyard somersaulted to the walkway in front of him, head slamming to the pavement just as the giant wet leaves that had concealed him were torn to pieces. His body went limp and Marshall was wondering if the little fucker had been knocked out cold when suddenly, for the first time, his own world was wiped away from him as if by a giant hand.

• • •

Someone was calling his name. His head was spinning and everything he heard sounded like it was coming to him through a thin tube. But he could hear his name, laced with another word he couldn’t make out. A woman’s voice. Screaming . . .

Nikki.

His eyes popped open. Marshall Ferriot stood over him, wide-eyed, blood streaming from the bites across his forehead and the bridge of his nose, his expression as vacant as Marissa’s had been earlier that day when she’d almost torn his head off. Nikki’s voice was blending with the squealing emergency alarms. They’d spread out the second they hit the jungle exhibit, both of them trying to get different vantage points on Marshall, as far away from him as possible.

But now he’d been exposed and . . . she’d hooked him! That’s why she was screaming. When he’d fallen right in front of Marshall, she had no choice but to hook the guy, and that was the other word she was screaming: Now Now Now Now Now.

Ben reached out for a giant shard of glass lying a few feet away. He ignored the fact that it had sliced into the flesh of his palm. He knew if he looked right into Marshall’s eyes, he would hesitate, so he closed the distance between them without looking at his face. When there were only inches between them, he slashed the jagged pieces of glass at Marshall’s throat. And it was as if it had moved through water.

Because Marshall Ferriot’s skin had become fluid and black. It looked as if he was bending backward at the waist, but his torso was actually lengthening, his legs fattening, and then his mouth opened so wide it appeared to consume his entire face, turning his head into a featureless, gelatinous black mass that looked like crawling lava after it has dived under the surface of the ocean. His neck was lengthening and taking on the patterning of a snake’s smoke-colored scales. His arms had opened as if he were about to take Ben in an embrace, then they sealed themselves to both sides of his narrowing trunk, sprouted into something that looked like a millipede’s legs. Then the matching rows of dripping fangs took shape inside the creature’s giant, crescent-shaped mouth, and it was now ten feet long, level with the floor, its blazing eyes focused on Ben.

Ben wasn’t sure what terrified him more, the thought of staying put or the thought of what the thing’s soul would look like if he tried to drive it a second time. So he turned and ran. And that’s when he felt an incredible gust of air behind him, heard a deafening, pained hiss and looked back in time to see the winged beast Anthem Landry had become seize the giant serpent in its great avian beak and lift it off the ground. Doglike, the winged monster swung its head back and forth, wings pumping madly, and the giant serpent’s entire body jerked and spasmed as it was hefted up into the air. Then they both dropped.

The serpent’s limp body smashed into the emptying remains of one of the open-air tanks. Now that it was pinned to the floor, the winged creature landed talons-first on the serpent’s back, and then tugged lightly on each talon to make sure it had pierced its scales. Then, wings pumping to give it balance, it pulled its talons in opposite directions and tore the son of a bitch in half.

One after the other, it yanked it talons free from the blood, gore and shredded scales. When it turned and looked back at Ben, he collapsed on the walkway, just inside the tunnel that lead to the rest of the aquarium. The creature stood up on its hind legs, its talons tucked against its feathered chest, and despite the inhuman shape of its blood-splattered beak, the eye that it focused on Ben was Anthem’s. And when the creature opened its beak and let out a piercing scream that sounded like a woman’s cry filtered through a torrential thunderstorm, Ben thought it might be parroting the terrified sobs he couldn’t fight any longer.

Having exhausted itself, the creature picked up the serpent’s severed head in its talons, then kicked itself into the air with its powerful legs, the pumping wings giving it flight. It took a few minutes for Ben to gather his courage and walk to the spot where the serpent’s shredded lower half lay strewn across the walkway. Once he was there, he looked up and saw Nikki standing on one of the thatched, elevated walkways that passed just below the tree house overhead. She was staring up through the shattered glass ceiling of the exhibit, probably at the spot where the creature had flown away. By the time he had joined her on the walkway, they could hear the footfalls of approaching police officers, too many at once to drive off, so he took her hand and they sped off down the walkway in the opposite direction.