Brian Keene - Urban Gothic

Javier’s landing was not elegant, but he kept his feet and smashed his forearm into the face of the next in line, before reversing his hips and using his leverage to drive the opposite arm’s elbow into the same target. The thing did not fall, but instead grabbed Javier’s arm and bit down on the exposed flesh. Javier screamed and pulled hard, yanking his arm back and leaving a wedge of flesh in the creature’s mouth. He punched again, catching the cannibal’s nose, which snapped under the impact. Javier’s stomach churned. The pain was making him nauseous.

His next swing missed as the shadow ducked below his fist, and then shoved forward. Male, and big, apparently, as he lifted Javier from the ground and rammed him into the cave wall. Javier’s body was pinned. He gritted his teeth, hissing as his opponent raked its clawed fingers across his chest and ribs, scratching and slicing with the same savagery as a rabid cat. Javier drove his knee up hard into the thing’s balls, and then kneed it again as it fell backward. Javier kicked the bruiser again as he hit the ground.

Suddenly, Javier realized that the others around him had fallen back, grunting and hooting as their larger companion rolled around on the ground. Javier’s eyes narrowed. He glanced down at his opponent. He wasn’t as big as Noigel, but his size was still ominous. As he watched, the creature staggered and then began to right itself.

Javier paused a moment, considering the situation. His enemy was bigger, older, and much stronger. He was also influential. There was no mistaking what was occurring here. The rest of the—what? tribe? pack? whatever—were stepping back and letting the big guy take care of business. They were deferring to their leader, or at least their champion. Javier wondered where this new arrival ranked in the pecking order. Obviously, Scug was a leader of sorts. Noigel seemed feared. Who was this one, and how would the others react if he was defeated?

In the darkness, a lantern flared. Javier squinted, shielding his eyes. His opponent chuckled. Javier dropped his hand and glared. He noticed now that his opponent was naked. The beast’s looks were apish, his eyes sunken into a doughy, pockmarked face beneath a thick brow.

His nose was barely discernible as anything more than nostrils, and his yellowed teeth were bared in an angry leer. Javier had bested him—hurt him—and he was very obviously pissed off about it. His intent was clear. He meant to kill.

Javier had different ideas.

He spat blood on the ground and let the big guy come to him, steeling himself, trying to prepare himself mentally. The mutant charged. Despite the gloom, Javier saw that his head was low and his arms were out at his sides. This thing wasn’t used to prey that fought back. It had exposed itself, made itself vulnerable in an effort to look even larger than it already was.

Javier dropped back and darted to the side, letting his opponent have the space he’d occupied a moment before. Adrenaline surged through Javier’s veins, boosting another wave of strength into him. The freak spun fast, roaring, and swung his arm in a wild arc. This time Javier did not dodge, but deflected the blow, slapping it aside and pushing the thing’s hand away from his body. Exposed and overbalanced, the creature stared down at his hand as if it had deliberately betrayed him. Javier grabbed his attacker’s wrist and pulled him further off balance. Then he drove his foot into the mutant’s chest as hard as he could. He felt the ribs break under the blow and grunted his satisfaction. The brute let out a yelp and stumbled. Javier twisted his hand until the bruiser had two choices, follow the direction Javier forced on him or risk a broken wrist. The thing yelped and moved the way Javier wanted. Javier turned him around.

“Fuck you,” he spat. “Think you’re king of the fucking cave cannibals?”

Javier drove his knee into the man’s kidney as soon as his back was exposed. The thing’s muscles were hard, and Javier felt the reverberation run through his heel. The fighter yelped and Javier struck again, taking no chances. This time, his opponent wailed and dropped to his knees. Using both his hands, Javier pulled the mutant’s arm high over his head and twisted.

The brutal face went down, slamming into the rocks. Javier landed on his foe’s back, knees first, driving them as deep as he could. The creature howled and thrashed. Javier had to struggle to maintain his grip on the muscled arm. He twisted again, stopping only when he’d separated the killer’s shoulder from its socket—ending the fight. Moaning, the creature shuddered once and then lay still, unconscious.

Javier seized the thing’s neck. The rest of the cannibals stepped back, hooting with cautious tones. While they watched, Javier twisted his enemy’s head, snapping his neck. Then he let the corpse fall and stood up slowly. The warped faces around him stared first at the dead man and then at Javier.

“Who’s next?” Javier’s voice was a broken croak. “Who wants it?”

He could tell that they were momentarily stunned—surprised by the unforeseen turn of events, the hunted becoming the hunter.

“Come on,” he taunted. “Who wants a piece of this?”

The pack shifted nervously. One of the creatures growled, low and menacing. Javier knew that their hesitation wouldn’t last much longer. He could sense them working themselves back up into a frenzy. The air felt charged. Electric. He had to take advantage of their confusion while he still could. The lantern light seemed to flare brighter.

Javier backed away slowly. He’d gone four steps when one of the females dropped down and grabbed the corpse. Her thick fingernails hooked into his skin and ripped long, bloody lines across his abdomen. Another of the creatures knelt and did the same, rooting between his legs.

Javier kept moving, understanding what was occurring. It wasn’t leadership or his display of strength that had saved him just now. It was simple economics. These things weren’t as smart or developed as Scug, Noigel, and some of the others he’d encountered. They were more savage. Bestial. They hunted because they were hungry, and if Javier wasn’t going to eat his kills, then they would.

He turned around and limped away as fast as he could. He didn’t want to run. He was afraid that the sudden movement might attract their attention again, the way a running rabbit attracted a fox or a dog. He heard the sound of flesh tearing behind him, accompanied by eager grunts and smacking lips. Given the number of creatures and the ravenous way they attacked their meal, it probably wouldn’t take them too long to finish. He needed to be long gone before the hunt began again.

Once he was safely out of range, Javier began to run again, retracing his steps and heading back toward the basement—intent on finding the girls and then following the river out of these catacombs once and for all. He was beginning to fear that if they didn’t leave the warrens soon, he’d become just like these creatures.

Or possibly transform into something even worse.

twenty-one

“Give me that damned crowbar,” Perry told Leo. “We need to get this door back up before more of them come.”

“You think there’s more of them in here?” Dookie asked, glancing around the foyer.

“Probably. Hold that flashlight still.”

“I can’t,” Dookie said. “My hands won’t stop shaking.”

“We need to find the light switch,” Jamal said. “Turn them back on so we can see and shit.”

“No,” Perry told him, taking the crowbar from Leo. “They turned the lights off for a reason. We flick them back on again, and they’ll know where we are. What we need to do is focus on getting this goddamned door open again.”

He tried wedging the crowbar under the edge of the metal slab, but it wouldn’t fit.