by Maxey, Phil
“St—Stop!” he said.
Clovis looked at him.
“I’ve got an idea, she doesn’t have to die!”
Clovis raised his hand. The creatures who were already at the gun, some yards in front of Lilly, skidded to a halt. Then began to walk around her, seeming not being aware anymore of their prey. Lilly froze.
“Talk,” said Clovis to Bryan.
Bryan swallowed. “I think we have ropes in some of the pickups. We can use your creatures to pull our vehicles like how Husky’s pull a sled.”
The others in the back of the pickups looked at each other. The idea seemed crazy and clever at the same time.
Clovis stepped closer to Bryan.
I’m going to die.
“I mean, they are tremendously strong, I wouldn’t be—”
“Stop talking,” said Clovis. He then turned back to the people in the pickups. “Get the ropes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Blood dripped from Mo’s left hand as Abbey wrapped her scarf around it. She was hardly an expert in E.L.F physiology but it looked like the bullet had gone straight through.
She could feel his pain each time he tried to clench his fist, and had to concentrate her mind to get him to stop.
She looked at her hands and knees. They were both sore by the impact of the rough landing on the roof of the hotel they were in.
Walking quickly to the window of the room, she looked out onto the street. Nothing.
She looked back at her E.L.F friend, his wings were folded into his back. She could tell he was in pain. She looked at her pack. “Should I give you some painkillers?” He looked at her wide-eyed.
She shook her head. Too risky. Who knew what effect it would have on him. Instead she reached in and took out one of the bottles of water, then emptied a vase of fake flowers and poured some of the liquid into it. She then handed it to him, which he took with his good hand and started drinking.
She looked through the curtains again, the sun was just over halfway across the sky, telling her there was still a lot of daylight left. She wished it wasn’t so. Whoever shot at them was still out there, and looking at Mo, they weren’t going to be able to leave this small city anytime soon.
Her mind switched to the roof again where they awkwardly landed. It looked like one of the highest points in the area, and would probably give her some idea of what or who was around them.
She looked at Mo. “Stay here.”
She then grabbed her pack, picked her rifle up slinging it over her shoulder and left the room. She left the door wide open, in case he wanted to wander.
A few flights of stairs later she came out into a cool spring day. Puddles reflected the gray clouds above her, and the storm which they were caught in the middle of was now just a memory on the horizon. She ran past air-conditioning units until she got to the wall which faced the direction they came from.
Forest covered hills with double story homes blocked any sight of more than a few miles to the south, and to her left was a park with a river running through it. She guessed the area near the highway where they were shot at was roughly four miles away, easily within walking distance should they want to track her and her feathered friend. But they had been encamped in the hotel for over an hour now and there was no sight or sound of anyone.
She looked around at the roof. Maybe I should camp up here. She could do what they did at Roswell, barricade the stairwell. At least this time she could get down from the roof, presuming Mo was able to fly, even for just a short distance. She walked over to the east facing wall. Impressive looking buildings lay in a grid formation, most of which had the word “Bank” as part of their names.
She ran back to the stairwell, and descended the seven flights to the ground floor, and out into the lobby. A sign on the wall, gave her three options. “Bar”, “Conference room” and “Banquet Hall.” She headed for the bar.
Chairs and small round tables lay strewn across a tiled wooden floor. She approached the large counter and looked at the wall behind. The glass shelves were empty. Walking to the end she pushed up the wooden gate and walked behind the counter. Crouching, she pushed her hand into the darkness of the shelves that were there. After a few attempts her fingers felt a glass bottle which she could tell by its reluctance to slide was full. Dragging it back out into the afternoon light that seeped through a row of small windows in the wall opposite, she held it up and smiled. She then walked further along and looked at a fizzy drinks machine. Empty again. She sighed, and went to walk away when she spotted a can languishing at the bottom of it.
Trying and failing to open the large metal door of the machine, she looked around for something solid and heavy. The only thing that would suffice was one of the chairs. She quickly grabbed one and then from a few yards back hurled it at the glass front of the machine, which shattered with a loud crashing noise. She then moved quickly around the back of the counter, reached in and grabbed the can. She smiled and slid it into her jacket pocket. It was then she heard the noise of the engines.
“Shit.”
She ran back out into the lobby, keeping low as she went, looking through the large glass doors at the wide road which ran alongside the hotel. It was empty, but the sound of vehicles in the distance was clear.
Running into the stairwell she got two flights when she remembered the plan to block anyone’s path coming up. She descended back down as quickly as she could and ran onto the first floor corridor. A row of doors flowed on both sides, some open some closed. Running up to the first open one, she peered inside. Clothes and bags covered the floor. She scanned the room for the heaviest item she could move. The large draw unit jumped out as the obvious choice. She quickly moved to it and started dragging it, but it was slow going as the bottom was dragging along the carpet. Not working.
The sound of the engines rose and she moved to the window and looked out. In the distance about a mile off, a convoy of about four vehicles came into view. There was a large white haulage truck of some kind, along with two pickups and a sedan, all heading in the hotels direction. It was too late to try to fill the stairwell, and even if she managed to get something heavy into the narrow space of the stairs, the noise it would make falling down them, would probably alert whoever was coming her way where she was.
She ran out of the room and back into the stairwell, jumping up a few steps at a time until she came out to the floor where she had stashed Mo. Running towards the room she left him in, she did a double take into a room where its door was open. Mo was inside, examining a table lamp.
“Come here, quickly.”
He held onto the ornate looking light.
“Mo, come on! I’ll get you one when we get to Boston, but we need to move!”
He dropped the lamp onto a desk and scampered out into the corridor.
“Show me your hand.”
He volunteered it as she requested, holding it palm up.
She carefully unwrapped the scarf.
“This is going to hurt, but it’s for your own good, okay?”
He blinked at her.
She thought she heard the sound of car doors closing outside in the street. Mo’s head lifted as if he heard the same.
Producing the bottle of alcohol from her pack, she opened it and poured some on his wound. He immediately pulled his hand back, shaking it and mildly squawking.
“I know it hurts, but it had to be done. Give me your hand back.”
He looked at her, then slowly reached out with his injured hand.
She poured a little of the drink onto the scarf, then wrapped his hand in it. He tried to pull his hand back, but she held it firm until the bandage was wound tight as before.
“We have to go, follow me.”
She raced along the corridor with Mo hopping behind her, and into the stairwell. Far below she thought she heard voices in the lobby, but she ignored the sound and they kept moving upwards until she came out onto the roof.
She spun around and looked at the door
. There was a keyhole, but without the key there was no way to stop it from being opened. Her eyes scanned the large blank space around her, but everything was bolted to the floor.
“Mo come here, I’m going to need you to help me keep this door closed.”
He looked at her confused, but moved closer to her regardless.
She leaned in to the door and took a deep breath.
Mo’s eyes flicked around the roof, but then he moved backwards until his body was up against the light gray metal of the roof exit.
Then she heard them. The voices of men entering the stairwell. Not as many as must have been in the vehicles, but still more than one. They must have guns as well, shit.
She looked at the roof top around her and the walls on all sides. She then thought about taking her rifle off her shoulder and running into the confined space on the other side, and shooting whoever was there dead before she was discovered. But what if I miss?
Plans and their obvious flaws ran through her mind all the time while the voices could be heard echoing around the stairwell.
They’re close.
“Do we really need to go all the way to the top?” shouted a man. Someone replied, and the man swore. She then heard his labored steps grow closer, until it sounded like he was just on the other side of the door. She could hear his heavy breathing even through the door.
The handle turned and she braced the door best she could. His first attempt didn’t have much effort behind it, and the door didn’t budge. He swore again. “I think this doors stuck!” he shouted behind him. “Yeah yeah,” he then said.
His second attempt sent Abbey toppling backwards. The door flung open, and an overweight man with a checkered shirt stood wide eyed. He then scrambled to take the rifle from his shoulder.
Abbey went to do the same but then realized her rifle was a few feet from her, having being knocked from her when she landed on the floor.
Just as his rifle was level with her face, Mo leaped forward grabbing the man by his head and pulling him with such force that his neck snapped. The man collapsed to the ground.
Abbey looked at the man and then Mo, who was growling and hissing. Running footsteps came from the stairwell, heading in their direction.
Abbey crawled to her feet. Shit.
“Gerald! You okay!” shouted the other voice.
Abbey looked at Mo’s hand, and then the closest wall.
“Mo we have to go,” she then grabbed her rifle, and leaned into the stairwell firing off a few shots. Shouting replied, and then automatic fire, which ricocheted off the walls near her.
Turning, she started running while slinging her rifle over her shoulder.
The sound of heavy footsteps grew louder in the stairwell.
Without looking back she clambered onto the wall, and leaped forward over the edge thrusting her hands above her head. After a second of falling, Mo grabbed her arms and they were soon moving away with speed, swaying between other buildings and out of sight from those watching.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Zach slid his hand into his pocket and touched the paper note that was there. The sun was setting behind one of the many undulating hills covered in leafless trees and they had been driving all day, only taking the occasional pause when Diaz sensed creatures were about to cross their path.
Fiona briefly looked over to Zach. “We’re not too far to Pittsburgh, if we’re going to quit for the night, now’s the time to find somewhere before we get close to the big city.”
Through all their searching they had not seen any sign of Abbey, and Zach knew the chances of that changing within the next few hours was slim.
“Sure, take the next turnoff, we’re find a place in whatever next town we come across.” He clicked on his radio and told the others what they were doing.
She could be dead. I drove her away.
His squinted trying to push the wrong thoughts out of his head, and briefly touched his pocket again.
As they drove along the pleasant tree lined road, past a gas station, expensive looking homes lined both sides, all of which had some kind of large-scale damage. Roof’s collapsed, porches that were tens of feet from where they should be and nearly all had gaping dark holes where windows should have been.
Up until now they had been surprised by the lack destruction in the structures around the highway, especially seeing they were moving into what were more heavily populated areas, but as the gloom descended ahead of the night, it was obvious most of the buildings around them had suffered lots of attacks of some kind.
“Don’t reckon we’ll find anyone alive from here on,” said Fiona. She then quickly realized the ramifications of the words that just came from her mouth. “I mean of the people that lived here from before.”
Zach smiled. “People can be pretty resilient.” He then noticed a dark black shape against the sky. “What’s that over there?”
She slowed and tilted forward to try and see. “Some kind of old building, let’s check it out.”
After turning down a few streets, the road climbed and they came out onto a long street, lined with shops. Most of them were open to the elements, with their fronts missing.
“Look,” said Fiona looking straight ahead.
About a hundred yards in front of them were a mass of twisted vehicles, all heaped together to form what looked like a barricade.
“Stop,” said Zach.
She did and Zach jumped out switching on his flashlight and pulling his rifle from his back. The Humvee behind had also stopped and Bower leaped out, running up to Zach.
Both of them swept their lights over the wall of broken metal and plastic. Zach then realized that a part of it had collapsed.
“Do we really need to be doing this?” said Bower watching where Zach was heading.
“Nope.”
Bower sighed, then followed.
Zach clicked on his radio, talking quietly. “Everyone stay with the vehicles, and stay on the big guns in case things get hot. Over.”
Once they climbed over the remains of cars and trucks, they lifted their flashlight beams and looked out onto a scene of devastation. A few Humvees, together with a full battle tank sat amongst small pillboxes made from sandbags. Darkened patches covered most of the ground, which in the light of their flashlights looked devoid of color but Zach and Bower new what they were.
They walked forward avoiding most of the wreckage.
Bower looked inside one of the Humvees. “Looks undamaged from what I can see.”
Zach then jumped up on the tank, and looked inside the open hatch. Pointing his light down to the dark pit of the interior he leaned in. “Same with the tank, not seeing any damage.”
They both stood and looked around them. The silence was so complete that they could still hear sounds coming from those they had left just a few hundred yards away. Their radios then came to life.
“I’m sensing things coming our way. Over.” said Diaz.
“How long we got? Over.”
“A few minutes at most, they are moving lightning quick.”
Zach scanned the area around them. As he lifted his lights beam an impressive second empire three story building came into view looming over them. Part of its masonry on the right wing had been completely destroyed, but most of it still seemed intact, and it was definitely the highest point in the area.
He clicked on his radio. “Leave the Humvees, get everyone over here now, we’re going to hide inside the old courthouse.”
Bower wasn’t sure of the plan, but repeated the order to his people.
Soon everyone was running towards them, carrying their guns and packs.
“If we’re going to hide we better be doing it now, because they are not far!” said Diaz.
Zach ran towards the large light gray building, running up the stone steps. “This way!”
Sandbags lay scattered including some forming a small wall in front of the large arched entrance. Zach climbed over, and pushed the secure looking doors o
pen.
“I can hear them,” said Harper behind him, as everyone climbed over the obstruction.
“Come on, everyone inside,” said Bower, pushing people forward. Once the last had entered the building, he ran in with them and pushed the doors closed. He then looked up at the stone and marble, his flashlight following his gaze. “Hey this is some b—”
He realized the others were standing silent in front of him, and then he realized why. Bodies laid around the large hallway like forgotten dolls.
Fiona kneeled near one. “Not seeing any E.L.F damage to them, I think—”
A crunching noise came from the street outside.
“What is that? It sounds like white noise?” said Harper.
“Everyone kill your lights,” said Zach.
Each one turned their lights off plunging them into the absolute darkness. The intensity of the sound outside increased.
“It’s like a swarm of some kind,” whispered Hayes.
“Wait here,” said Zach. He remembered that there was a grand staircase to his left, so he reached out and immediately felt the cold metal bannister. Using that as a guide he put his boot on the first step and then the second, each time checking for anything blocking his path. He ascended quickly until the steps stopped. First floor.
Spreading his arms outwards, he moved forward until he felt a wall. He knew the direction of the door they came in from so he knew which direction to go in, to get to a room which overlooked the street. Soon he felt an opening, and then he saw a faint light coming from outside. Carefully but as quickly as he could he moved into the room, bumping into furniture until he was at the window. They stood at least seven feet high, and were mostly covered in large pieces of wood.
Zach stepped closer to one of the sources of light, and looked through a small gap between the planks. A feeling of dread descended on him. He recognized what was outside. He had seen them before. First at the prison in New Mexico and more recently in Dallas.
A mass of darkness just visible in the light from the moon flowed along the street, sometimes stopping to poke into a recess or an opening in a building. Even though it looked like one semi-solid creature he knew it was made up of hundreds if not thousands of smaller beings, all with razor sharp claws and fangs.