by Sandy Nathan
A growl rattled in Flossie’s throat. Lena spun around and plugged a Big trying to sneak up behind her. And then they came. They were ranged along the side of the hill out of her sight, doing just what she expected. A pincers move, classic strategy. She didn’t know how many tunnels they had or where they’d come from exactly. Lena’s heart beat hard. She might die in the next few minutes.
But it didn’t work out the way the Bigs had planned. She heard them screaming from behind the hill. The snarling of many dogs was intermingled with curses and shrieks. A Big ran across the field in front of her, pursued by a half-dozen wild dogs. She shot him. The dogs gutted him where he fell.
She crept closer to the edge of the rise to see better. Dogs were on their bellies, searching the grass for more of the easy new quarry. Bigs began rising out of the ground without any idea of what awaited them. The dogs crept closer, silent, eyes on their prey.
A Big walked stealthily past the place where she lay hidden in the grass. She didn’t drop him. He moved cautiously into the field. A bit farther, and then he stood up and walked away. Three Bigs shuffled behind him, looking every which way.
The dogs did what the Bigs had wanted to do to her: ambushed them and cut them down. Bigs ran with dogs snapping at their flanks. They were pulled down by the dogs or shot by her.
The dogs’ pack behavior took over. The animals hunted as a team, stalking one after the other, crisscrossing the field, searching for strays. They entered the woods and chased out two more. She dropped them and the dogs tore into their bodies. Only a couple of the Bigs had weapons, and they couldn’t hit a thing with them.
She and the dogs killed eleven, and the dogs might have pulled down a few more that she didn’t see. Listening to the ferocious animals savage the Bigs’ bodies brought her no joy. She’d won, but she was a killer now. Lena sat up, tears glistening on her cheeks. She’d killed people.
The dogs in the meadow noticed her move. Every head popped up, all eyes fixed on her. They forgot their feast instantly. They lifted their muzzles, sampling her scent. The dogs soundlessly assembled at the base of the hill. The pack leader dropped his head and stared into her eyes. The others followed him.
Lena leapt to her feet and picked up her machine gun for the first time that day. “You mess with me, dog, you’ll be dead.” She aimed at the pack leader. “You wanna see bad? I’ll show you bad.”
She stepped carefully down the hill, eyes on the leader. He dropped back, keeping his head down and ears back. She got on the flat, looking at him. “Well, what are you going to do? Do it!”
He broke eye contact and moved away, slinking sideways but keeping his head pointed toward her. She’d bested him. But not the number two dog. A smaller, grizzled dog leapt at her, teeth flashing. She shot him, remembering Grace’s admonition that automatics shoot high. The dog collapsed mid-leap and fell in a heap, twitching. The others began to melt into the grass, disappearing the way they’d come.
“Wait!” She didn’t want them to leave. She wanted them to help her. She’d blown that by killing their pal. “I don’t want to kill you.”
The sky roiled and darkened. She looked up and saw Shaq’s face across the meadow. “I’m sorry, Shaq. I know you sent them to help. I didn’t want them to kill me.” Had she destroyed his trust? She stood there, afraid of her own dog. Of course, he had weighed twelve pounds when he was her boy.
“I need to make sure no more of them get out. I can’t do that alone. And I’ve got to get back to the children.”
Shaq was in his rollicking puppy mood. Playing, he bounced over the field away from her, and then spun in circles on his hind end before coming to a stop in front of her, front end down and tail wagging. Dust and leaves flew. His passage caused small whirlwinds to flurry around the meadow.
“Oh, good, Shaq. You’re not mad at me. Would you make them obey me? I need guards. They can eat the Bigs later.”
“Woof!” resounded over the grasslands. The thunderous sound caused the dog pack to drop flat on the ground. After wagging his tail and barking again, Shaq bounded off.
“All right, you hounds, follow me,” Lena walked boldly in the direction the Bigs had come. She wished she had a whip like her grandfather used with his hounds. He never hit the dogs, but the snap of the whip told them where they should go. Those were hunting dogs, not ladies’ pets, and ferocious. All of them were killers, though they loved and served Grandpa.
The Bigs’ trail was easy to follow. They knew nothing about hiding their tracks and probably didn’t think it would be necessary. Lena identified three fresh tunnels that they must have used to get out. No more Bigs were visible as she passed. She also located the detonated canary hole. “That’s one down.” No need to fear attack from that direction.
After completing her survey, she returned the way she had come. One of the Bigs was emerging from a tunnel as she approached. He looked at her, his blue eyes locked on her brown ones.
“Darky,” he said, smiling. Her aim was off. She shot him in the right arm. He kept coming. She shot him in the left shoulder. He slid back into the hole, either pulled by his compatriots or backpedaling hard with his feet.
When the opening was clear, Lena pointed the muzzle of her gun down the hole and fired a few rounds. Screams told her that she’d hit paydirt.
She fired down the other holes, even though she didn’t see Bigs. Muffled groans and shuffling from underground said they’d gotten the message. But not all of it.
She looked at the lead dog and pointed at the burrow nearest her. Making a downward movement with her hand, she said, “Stay here. Kill anything that comes out.” She swept her arm to the other holes and looked at the leader. “Cover them all for me, and cover my retreat.”
The dog looked at her, seeming to understand. Other members of the pack trotted off to the other holes. “You can have all you can eat. If we stay friends, we’ll hunt together. You’ll get more food than you ever would without me.” She knew that the dog couldn’t understand her, but it made her feel better to talk to him. “I’m sorry I shot your friend, but you can’t attack me.”
She had to get back to the kids. They needed her. Lena climbed back up the hill, got her sharp-shooting guns and ammunition. Her water. She found that the Russian bulletproof vest was very well-designed. It had tabs and pockets to allow her to carry her gear efficiently. She set off across the field to their camp and the kids.
It was a long, hard trek. She was exhausted before she even started out. As she walked, Lena wished that she had worked out every day she’d spent in Ellie’s world, and every day of her life before that. Then she’d be up for this.
The only nice thing about the hike was Flossie’s trotting along next to her. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you, Flossie?” She was a different type of dog than the hounds. More of a housedog or companion than a hound with a blood lust.
Lena kept trudging. She was so tired when she got to the children’s tent that her hands trembled as she unloaded her guns. She wanted to flop on the ground, but they were so quiet inside.
“Are you all right?” she unzipped the tent flap as fast as she could and stuck her head in. The smell of feces and urine assailed her, but nothing moved under the bulletproof vests. She piled into the tent and lifted one of the vests. “Bobby! Are you …?” His blue eyes looked into hers. “Oh, my God. You were so quiet. I thought …” She slumped. “Well, you are good children. I told you to be quiet and you were.”
What to do? She shouldn’t leave her guns out there. She should be out front herself, watching. But she couldn’t leave the children in there, stinking and lying in shit. Maybe they’d done that all their lives, but she couldn’t allow it. She decided to take a chance and tend to the kids.
Flossie was gone when she came out to get towels and water to clean the children. Lena looked around. She saw Ellie sitting in a tree behind the camp. She’d been there all day. A huge gray ball like a wasp’s nest hung from the branch. It must have been four feet across.
An egg sack, Lena thought, having seen Ellie’s other “babies.” This one was many times larger than the others, though. Lena thought Ellie would help the others, but apparently her maternal duties had deep-sixed her involvement in the battle.
Lena felt better tending to the children. They loved to be touched and talked to. “Everything’s gonna be fine. Don’t you worry. We’re gonna be fine. I’ll take care of you the rest of your lives. We’re gonna get out of here and you babies are going to run across that pasture havin’ fun.
She knew some of their names. Bobby. Patrick. Ellen. James. Billy. All she had to do to know a child’s name was look at him or her, and the name came to her. They had the Bigs’ intuitive abilities, but theirs had kindness behind them. She knew how the new food was agreeing with them, and who wanted water and who needed formula. They were wonderful to be around—and very alert, now that their fluid levels were up.
“All right, children, I have to cover you up again. I’ll be right outside, but don’t make any noise.”
Shadows lengthened. She had a bad feeling about what was happening to the others. She hadn’t heard a thing, but the oppressive quality of the Bigs’ presence weighed upon the camp. It was much worse than what she’d experienced with the smaller Bigs. She had the feeling that Sam Big and all the others were working on her friends’ minds. She repeated Jesus’s name, hoping that she could withstand the urge to leave her post and march directly into the underground. Flossie and her pups curled up underneath her, as though she could provide them with protection from the darkness.
Lena heard a whirring sound and looked up to see Ellie flying toward the main battlefield. Light glittered off her faceted body plates, shooting flashing beams around the meadow. Her wings moved faster than the eye could follow, beautiful iridescent things like flying knife blades. Ellie looked at Lena. Her eyes were brilliant silver orbs devoid of feeling or expression.
She shuddered. Ellie reminded her of the exhibition of military planes she and Henry had seen at the air base. Streamlined fighter jets rose high into the air in tight formation, swooping down and over the field where they stood. They thrilled and terrified at once. Ellie was like that, beautiful and horrible. She streaked toward the field where the others were massed.
45
“Ah, ‘tis the beautiful Mrs. Egerton,” Sam Big’s voice emerged from the hole in the ground like an oily balm. He sounded like a gracious host welcoming his guests, “The dear friend of my ancestor, Sam Baahuhd.” He spoke normal English, tinged with the village’s burr. “Ah welcome ye with all the love in dear Sam Baahuhd’s heart. For ah am his true son and heir.”
They stood in the lawn area between Jeremy’s computer center and the blown open rear entry to the underground. Jeremy had pushed a wand-like periscope over the edge to see what was going on down below and found all seven levels to the underground were wide open.
As Jeremy withdrew the scope, Sam Big began his courtship of the group—and that was what his words amounted to. He had perceived the subtle movement of the periscope from the shelter’s depths. Grace was surprised; either Sam Big’s eyes were very sharp or he had highly responsive computerized sensors functioning.
“How lovely to have you and your friends. Jeremy, the great Tek himself, is here. And Henry, whose drinking powers Sam Baahuhd could not best.” He seemed to know some of those who were present, but not all. He missed the two Indians and Mel and James. And he didn’t speak to Sam.
Grace looked at her friends and found them spellbound, focused on the opening and the voice coming from it. The man was charming. They drifted closer to the hole as they listened. Sam beckoned them back from the edge. Grace moved away, along with the others. She sensed that it would be harder to resist that voice the closer they got.
Gathering them in front of the tent, Sam whispered, “It is the Voice. Do not believe anything he says. He welcomes you to your deaths. You will go down there if you listen to him.”
Grace shook her head to clear it. She did want to go down the stairs. Worse, she felt a throb of desire deep in her body. Sam Big was magnetic and knew her weaknesses. “What can we do, Sam?” she implored.
“What ye did before, say your holy words and remember Him who made all this world. This is the easy part. It will get worse. He will change.”
Jeremy ran into the computer center and came out of the tent wearing big, padded headphones from his computer. He pulled them off in disgust. “I thought they’d cut the sound, but they make his voice louder.”
“You have to call on what power you have. He will call you until he dies. Or you do.”
The Voice continued and they withstood it using the means Sam had suggested. Sam Big’s tone changed when no one marched down the stairs.
“Ye’re a whore to beat the best, you lil’ cunnie. Lady Grace.” Sam Big’s laugh rolled over the lawn, almost toxic enough to poison the grass. “Named yerself a new name, but it can’t hide the bitch beneath. Veronica Egerton. That’s a proper whore’s name. Ah’d take care o’ ye so ye’d stay put, ye and yer nice little quim …”
Grace felt herself pulled forward, wanting to run straight to the beast. The malevolence in his voice throbbed through the air. And through her. She wanted him, though she would have died before admitting it. What he said seemed the absolute truth.
“Ye’ll never change, hell-bitch. Come down to me and get what ye want. I’ll give ye what’s yers. Com’ere, hell’s wart!”
She moved forward three steps. Sam grabbed her and pulled her back.
“Ah, me Sammy,” the voice recognized Sam’s presence for the first time. “Me love. Do yer friends know that you and I been rammin’ it home since we was lads? Y’ were fourteen when ye let me have ye, body and soul. Th’ bitch thinks she’s got you, but we know, don’t we?
“Ah own ye, Sammy. Get down here, now!” The Voice became ferocious. For the first time, they could feel Sam Big’s power and rage. “I want you! The bitch will na’ steal ye from me.”
Sam backed off in horror, but couldn’t turn away.
“Ah, Sam, did I tell yer secret? Those jolly boys w’ ye ain’t nuthin’ ‘pared to you and me. Ah’m embarrassin’ ye? Ah’m so sorry …”
Sam covered his ears and bent over. They couldn’t see his expression.
“We had such great times. ‘Member the way ye squealed?” Sam Big laughed uproariously.
Sam dropped to his knees, holding his head in his hands, groaning, “No, no …”
“Ah is embarassin’ ye w’ yer new lady, the cunnie from hell? Aw. I’m sorry, but yer my pretty. An’ ye love me, na’ her.” He paused artfully.
“That ain’t what really bothers ye, is it? It’s the punishment ye got. Ye’re a very bad man, Sam of Emily. I had to punish ye. So I took yer sister. Ah know ye remember wha’ happen t’ her. A fine piece a’ flesh, she was. Didn’ need legs for what we did. Didn’ last long, though.
“And that girl ye fancied? Th’ skinny one? Jennie? Ah—she hardly lasted a day when my boys had a’ ‘er. Ah know ye fancied ‘er, Sam, but ye don’ allus get wa’ ye want.
“Ye got me, luv. Ye love me, an’ ah love ye. Think yer new friends will want ye now they know about ye?
“C’mon down, Sammy boy. Ye know ye want to.”
Grace could hardly bear to hear it. She covered her ears, but it didn’t do any good. The words covered her like filth. She turned to Sam.
He leapt up in anguish, tearing open his bulletproof suit and exposing his chest to the others. He screamed, “KILL ME! KILL ME!” He turned to each of them, offering his chest. “SHOOT ME! I WANT TO DIE! Kill me or ah will go down there …”
When no one would kill him, he pointed his gun at himself. Wesley grabbed the weapon.
“Excuse me, Sam. I need to reach over here for a second.” Bud spread his hand wide, touching Sam’s chest. Sam collapsed. Bud softened his fall and laid him on the ground, squatting next to him with his hand remaining over Sam’s heart. Sam Big’s voice continued to belch out
of the hole. Bud turned to Wes. “Would you shut him up?”
Wesley stood facing the opening and raised his hands above his head, eyes closed, apparently in prayer. A spray of blue sparkles appeared from his fingers, becoming a fountain that eclipsed the sun. A column of light arose from his head, spreading out, filling the area over the underground. It covered the meadow and went all the way to the sea. Inside that dome, peace reigned.
Bud laughed at his companions’ reactions to Wesley’s display. “You ain’t see ol’ Wes in his glory. He’s been known to sprout a giant over his head that would do in Sam Big and all of his dogs without no trouble at all. Unfortunately, he’s only done that in the Mogollon Bowl with Grandfather there.
“But let’s get to work; I don’t know how long Wes can keep that goin’.” Bud focused on his hand and his connection to Sam, who was passed out. “I needed to do this to get a little control here.” He closed his eyes and might have been thinking, or calling upon something unseen.
“OK, we know what happened to Sam down below,” Bud said. He kept his hand on Sam’s chest, squatting as he talked. Sam remained insensible. “And we know just how mean that sumbitch is, and how he plans to destroy us.” He looked up at Grace, who was white-faced and shaken. “Grace, ma’am, I don’t believe what he said about you.”
“It’s true, Bud, Absolutely true. I used my body to gain influence and power, not because I loved anyone. I was a whore …”
“Mom, that’s not true. You did some bad stuff, but you made up for it,” Jeremy stepped forward, appalled by what Sam Big had said about his mother and the effect it had on her. She looked shrunken.
“No, he’s right, Jeremy. I could feel myself wanting him as he was talking. I almost went down there. I’m no good.” She was distraught.