Claw

by Katie Berry

  Though he knew there was nothing back there that could help him, he didn’t care, and only wanted to put some distance between himself and whatever in God’s name was now coming down the tunnel.

  Back at the dead-end cavern of wonder, it felt like his heart was threatening to pound its way out of his chest. He ran to the edge of the precipice, sweat pouring from his panicked brow. It dripped into his eyes, stinging them and blurring his vision. Turning back from the void, he blinked rapidly to clear his eyes so he could see what had followed him down the corridor.

  “Jesus Christ! Just bugger off and leave me alone!” He rubbed at his eyes and shouted at what was emerging from the darkness into the cavern. When his vision cleared, and he was able to discern what was stalking him, his heart skipped a beat and almost stopped.

  About one hundred metres from him, twin bears stood, framed by his spotlight. Much larger than an adult grizzly, these bears still looked like cubs. He surmised that they had to be related to that thing stalking around the forests of Lawless, though not quite fully grown, despite their massive size.

  Nichols snapped his head left and right, looking for something, anything, with which to defend himself. Grabbing a chunk of rock, he threw it at the bears as they approached. The fist-sized rock bounced off the shoulder of the cub on the left. The beast didn’t notice the impact in the slightest and kept plodding toward him, its sibling at its side.

  Standing at the brink of the drop, Bob felt the gaping blackness pressing against his back. The bears approached slowly, seeming in no apparent hurry, now that they knew their prey wasn’t going anywhere.

  Nichols looked backward over the edge of the cliff, his mind registering what he’d only glimpsed as he’d tried to blink the salty sweat from his eyes. There was a secondary ledge just below where he was standing. It looked to be about a metre wide, situated about three metres down. He could drop down onto it out of their reach -- of that he was sure!

  The twins were now about ten metres from him, and Nichols knew if he were going to do something, he’d better do it soon, or he was going to get ripped to shreds. He knelt on the edge and turned around unsteadily, feeling the lip of soft rock crumble slightly near his right knee as he positioned himself for the drop.

  Flashing the light down to the narrow, rocky shelf below, suddenly the three metres looked more like thirty. The flashlight was going to prove a liability since he needed it not only to see what he was doing but also to see where the bears were located. Deciding to put the flashlight in his mouth, he clamped his lips and teeth around it to hold it tight. It glowed from his buccal cavity like a locomotive emerging from a darkened tunnel. He lay down on his belly along the lip of the ledge, slowly turning his legs out into the blackness to lower himself down.

  Unfortunately, Bob Nichols upper body strength was not what it had been when he was younger. Like so many elderly people, his muscles had atrophied after decades of lack of exercise and neglect. What should have been a simple thing for a man of fifty or even sixty, for a man of seventy-five, like Bob, it was almost impossible.

  He had enjoyed a privileged life, not having to break a sweat to make a living. Being the nephew of the owner of the Sinclair Development Corporation had certainly allowed him privileges while growing up, of that he was more than sure. And never having to do anything more strenuous than chasing a golf ball around the green or perhaps tip back his elbow to partake of another scotch and soda, he was about as physically unfit a specimen as had ever walked the planet.

  His face pressed to the cold, dusty rock, Nichols splayed his arms across the edge of the ledge, his feet now dangling down into the darkness below. The intention had been to lower himself in something of a controlled manner. But the soft leather gloves he wore were not suited to gripping time-worn rock, and the smooth, supple hide slid over the eroded rock much too quickly as gravity pulled him over the edge.

  The bears were almost upon him, less than a metre away now. The cub on the left, being closer to him, swept its paw out to try and snag him as he dropped down, its fresh, young claws looking wickedly long and sharp.

  Bob continued his slide off the ledge and then plummeted into the blackness below. His trip was a short one, and his brittle bones impacted the rock ledge with brutal force. The flashlight ejected from his mouth, and a shriek of pain burst from his lips. His left leg hit the narrow ledge first, shattering his ankle in a dozen places as the rest of his body landed on top moments later. Nichols now lay flat on his back along the ledge, right leg hanging into nothingness, his left ankle a white-hot brand of agony. “Oh Jesus Christ, God, it hurts!”

  He tried to move and was surprised to see he could still sit up, but his ankle screamed in pain at him once more, and he followed suit. A roar came from one of the cubs above his head as they listened to his injured mewling, unable to reach him.

  He reached toward the flashlight and grabbed it away from the edge of the ledge where it rolled when he landed. Flicking the light upward, he looked into the ravenous faces of the cubs. Saliva dripped from their partially opened mouths onto his upturned face, and he wiped it away. The creatures knew their prey was now unobtainable and both roared again, this time in frustrated unison.

  Nichols cringed at the sound, his ankle pain temporarily forgotten. The cubs gave a final howl of frustration and turned away, perhaps going to look for prey more easily accessible than the whining, injured thing just out of their reach below.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, the mayor said, “Thank God! Thank God!” He moved the light along the ledge, assessing his situation. The shelf of rock ran about four metres along the rockface to his left and then ended, dropping into oblivion below. Shining the light to his right, he saw he had only one metre or so before the rock did the same disappearing act into nothingness.

  Nichols tried to stand. He scrabbled his hands along the rock wall to pull himself up. Once standing, he decided to put some weight on his ankle, and it rewarded him with more searing pain that made his vision go white.

  Bob stretched up his hands to see if he could reach the ledge above to pull himself back up. His heart sank when he saw his grasping fingertips were about a half-metre too far away to reach.

  He had no way up.

  The flashlight in his hand had been a trusted companion up until now. Without warning, it began to dim, going from a brilliant white to a dull yellow in less than twenty seconds. “No, no, no!” He cursed at the light, “Work, you piece of shit, don't die on me now!” He smacked it with the palm of his hand, but nothing improved and it continued to die.

  Soon, the high-intensity flashlight was nothing more than a faint memory on the back of his retinas, fading slowly away until it was swallowed by the blackness that surrounded him. Now, the only sense he had left was sound. He listened to the white noise of the waterfall off to his left shooting into the chasm below. It was pitch black, and he couldn’t see anything, anywhere, effectively making him blind as well as injured. He slowly slid back down the rockface, wincing from his ankle pain once more as he sat. The rough, rocky ledge dug into his back and buttocks.

  Mayor Bob Nichols peeled off his supple, kid-leather gloves one at a time and placed them neatly in his lap. With slow deliberation, he put his uncalloused hands to his face, covering it though there was no one to see, and he wept.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  Arctotherium Angustidens pawed at the single glass door remaining in the airlock, trying to make it open. Because the mechanism was off its base, it continually jammed and then reset itself, only allowing the door to move a couple of inches before slamming shut once more.

  Trying a new tactic, the prehistoric bruin pressed its enormous head into the door, the steel frame around it squealing as it pushed harder and harder. The glass, already cracked after Edna’s horrific demise, shattered inward in an explosive shower, coating the lobby floor with millions of glistening shards.

  At the sight of the door shattering, the pack of swarming seniors shrieked, with several
grey and blue heads fleeing toward the kitchen. Others, however, refused to listen to the young whipper-snapper and instead tried to get inside the malfunctioning elevators, pushing and pressing into each other in an attempt to get to safety.

  With the glass out of the frame now, the bear pressed forward, its gargantuan head thrusting into the lobby. It let loose a vocalisation that shook the bells on several of the slots. The seniors flew into a renewed frenzy of panicked screaming and shoving. Several were down on the ground now getting trampled by their fellow residents as they attempted to flee.

  The beast pushed hard again. Another shriek of metal on metal came as it managed to wedge its shoulders into the airlock, but was stopped halfway through by its massive girth and roared in frustration. The noise level inside the casino cranked to eleven on the dial as a new wave of screams rolled through the throng of petrified blue-hairs.

  With a mighty heave, the animal pushed again and advanced into the lobby, straining to get through the secondary airlock. Now, the only thing keeping it from its upcoming meal of well-aged prey was its own gargantuan ass.

  ***

  Austin ran through the now empty smoking room and slammed his hip into the emergency-release exit bar, not slowing down at all. His speed was so great that he slid several metres on the fresh coating of ice outside before coming to a stop.

  Snow removal had been an issue around the casino, as usual, thanks to Ray Chance’s continual budgetary cutbacks, and numerous sections still needed to be cleared and sanded. Several spots had piles of snow that had fallen off the roof and piled up along the ground under the eaves of the building throughout the winter. It made navigating the terrain outside the smoke room exit extremely hazardous. It wasn't that the piles were large, but that they were hard-packed and icy, and not particularly conducive to running over the top of at high speeds unless one wanted to fall and break an arm or leg.

  Austin wished he could solve the problem by running farther away from the building, but the fog was so thick that if he lost sight of the main structure, he'd be lost within seconds and then he, along with everyone else, would be royally screwed.

  Rounding the building, he rapidly approached the lobby. The bear was almost through the secondary set of airlock doors, only its huge posterior sticking out of the entrance now, the rest of its muscular body disappearing into the lobby. The beast roared from inside the casino and tried to push farther inside; the seniors inside reached a new peak of panic.

  “Shit and crackers!” Austin yelled out loud. Now running full-tilt, he had thrown caution to the wind. Coming off the icy piles of snow, he hit the shallow, crimson pool that remained of Edna O’Toole, and went for a slide. Before he knew it, Austin found himself on his back, staring up at the canopy over the entrance. The T-Rex lay next to him on the ground in a puddle of gore. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he slipped in the gory mess once more and fell back on his buttocks.

  An incredible shriek arose from the panicked seniors inside. If he didn’t get to the senior citizens from the Golden Castle soon, they were going to be toast. Reaching for the rifle, he jammed the stock into the ground and pulled himself up using the side of the building, then finally stood, using the gun as a crutch.

  The bear had almost gotten its amazingly-large butt through the door frame now. The half-dozen or so senior citizens still inside the lobby were crushed up against the elevator doors. They pushed and shoved, trying to get through them, if not to rise above the horror, but perhaps to at least hide from the monster. Near the front desk, some of the more agile oldsters began to climb the stairs, abandoning their walkers in the process. They pulled themselves slowly up the staircase, holding onto the railing for dear life. A couple of the more sprightly ones had actually made it halfway. Unfortunately, it looked like one or two of them had either had a coronary from fright and exertion or had been knocked down by their retirement home travel-mates as they attempted to flee.

  Rivers of drool gushed from the beast’s parted jaws as it tried to advance on its upcoming Senior Smorg Special at the Bonanza Buffet. Their screams grew louder and more shrill, becoming a deafening discordance of despair. Almost through the entrance now, only one last bit of steel framing twisted around the creature’s lower body held it back, ensnaring it in the doorway.

  Austin moved cautiously across the blood-slicked ground, looking for a better angle. Things were going south quickly. He stepped forward and knelt, assuming a firing stance. Propping the stock of the T-Rex firmly against his right shoulder and lined the bear up the sight.

  Just as he was about to pull the trigger, inside the lobby, Alex jumped forward and started waving his arms and shouting near the beast.

  Austin checked his trigger pull at the last instant. He shouted, “Jesus Christ! Alex! Get the hell out of the way!”

  Alex looked to his father and saw what had almost happened, his face going white in the process. The boy complied and darted off to one side, heading for the smoke room exit and letting this dad do what he needed to do.

  The Tyrannosaurus Rex roared, the oversized rifle’s muzzle flashing again and again as Austin pumped round after round at the beast. The sound was explosive in the closed confines of what remained of the casino entryway, and Austin's ears were ringing from the blasts. Two of the rounds hit home, blowing chunks from the bear’s ass-end. Two other shots went wild, executing a brightly coloured Royal Flush slot machine along one wall. Fortunately for the seniors, this assault on the beast’s hindquarters had the desired effect on the bear. A low, bass rumble came from the beast’s throat as it turned toward him.

  ***

  Alex bolted across the lobby, running through the access into the smoking-room and bursting through into the fog. He had an idea.

  Running blindly forward, he almost ran face-first into the Gold Mountain maintenance truck that seemed to appear out of nowhere in front of him. He ripped the driver’s door open and rummaged behind the driver’s seat and found what he wanted, a storage locker. "Yes!" he shouted. Quickly rummaging through its contents, his heart suddenly beat faster at what he discovered inside.

  With his new treasure tucked in his jacket, Alex jogged a bit farther into the fog and saw the faint outline of the Golden Castle Adventure bus. He suddenly felt a spark of inspiration and jogged toward it, hoping it contained what he was looking for.

  Sliding to a halt near the driver's side of the minibus, the boy flinched, looking away from the gore inside, feeling like he was going to ralph. He ran around to the passenger entrance, prying the doors open with frozen fingers. A wave of nausea washed over him once more when he saw that the monster hadn't successfully removed the entire driver from the vehicle. Part of him still remained in his seat. A single leg, the right it appeared, had tangled in the seatbelt as the creature extracted the driver, ripping it off as it tore him from the window. Alex grimaced and glanced behind the driver’s seat to the small storage locker behind it with the red cross on top. He tore the lid open, rifling through the locker’s contents, hoping he’d find what he was looking for somewhere inside.

  ***

  Backing up and firing another shot, Austin now had the beast’s undivided attention. In the excitement, he'd lost track of how many rounds he fired. Recalling Christine’s sales pitch, he remembered it held eleven rounds but wasn’t sure if he'd fired eight or nine already. Several of them had struck home hitting the bear’s ass, while others had impacted the ground due to his firing too low. His shoulder was throbbing along with his ears from the repeated assault of the rifle's concussive blasts on his body, both physical and auditory. He needed to get the bear out of the casino and have it follow him, and he hoped to God that he had enough ammo to do so. He fired another shot at the monster, and it turned, beginning to push itself out of the casino entrance toward him.

  “Okay, so far, so good! Now I’ve got this thing extremely pissed at me and wanting to eat me instead of the seniors, just like I wanted. Peachy!”

  The bruin roared, seemingly
in agreement, and continued toward him. “That’s right! C’mon, you big, ugly son of a bitch,” he shouted, turning to flee. “Follow me!”

  Austin moved as fast as he could along the slippery slope leading toward the back of the casino. If he went down now, he’d be next on the menu. He made sure to keep the snowbank on his left as he moved up the lane or else he’d be lost in the fog. Alex was MIA, and he wondered where he’d gone, concerned for the boy’s safety.

  Turning his attention back to the task at hand, it appeared the shells Austin pumped into the bear’s hindquarters had been more than enough to keep its attention focused on him. It shrieked and roared once more, advancing toward him through the billowing fog.

  Austin moved toward the corner of the building and his face suddenly brightening into a broad grin when he saw what lay in front of him. “Holy crap! Awesome job!”

  Disappearing into the fog, like a runway lit for take-off, were a series of bright orange flares, hissing and sputtering on the icy ground. Austin marvelled at what someone had thought to do. As the ice-fog smothered the remaining daylight, they blazed brightly, dazzling his eyes and acting as a marker trail, lighting a path for him through the mist toward the storage shed.