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Boneyard Rumblers

Page 15

by Gina Ranalli


  The Bronco bumped over both John and Walt and then he was free, flying up the highway, the rear end fishtailing as rubber squealed.

  He checked the rearview mirror, thinking the RV would be behind him shortly, but it stayed still, growing smaller by the second.

  “What the fuck!” He punched the steering wheel, cracking it, and then switched to punching the ceiling, giving it a few new dents.

  How had he been so fucking stupid? He should have known Cash would betray him the very instant he somehow-miraculously, Bliss had thought-escaped the hunters. There was no escaping hunters. Not ever. If they had you, you were dead, your head in one place, your body in another.

  The rage and sorrow mingled in his chest and for one horrifying second he thought he might burst into tears. Never had he felt so helpless.

  A thought, hard and fast, suddenly knocked him upside his head.

  Meadows.

  He’d left him behind. Last Bliss knew, he’d been in the RV and clearly he had stayed there throughout everything that had happened since Walt crashed the Indian. Why? Was he asleep or some shit? That seemed doubtful. Maybe, like Willa, he was too afraid to come out at first.

  For one of the few times in his life, Gunnar Bliss didn’t know what to do. Turning around was out of the question but could he just leave Meadows there? And what if John and Walt were able to recover? It wouldn’t be overnight but he supposed anything was possible. And Melosia?

  He didn’t even try to convince himself he gave a damn about Opal. She’d never be anything but an albatross around his neck, even if she turned out to be an adequate killer. Fuck no, man. She was on her own. But the others?

  “Fuck!” he shouted again, the gas pedal pressed to the floor. Whatever his plans were, whatever his next move was, it would have to be decided from a safe distance. His kind couldn’t afford to lose him now. They could very well be on the brink of extinction.

  CHAPTER 28

  Silver ball bearings.

  Cash learned the shotgun was full of silver ball bearings the size of nickels and was thankful he hadn’t gotten a face-full of them when he’d first jumped up from behind the SUV or any moment after that.

  The instant he’d crossed into the tree line and saw Helena and Quinn, he’d made his final decision. It wasn’t hard. It was join them or die. He chose the former and now he held what they called the Phoenix Blade and had just stabbed his father with it. Bliss was already gone, fleeing like the true coward he was, leaving behind his so-called family to fend for themselves.

  Cash couldn’t decide if he was more relived or disgusted but he’d have to ponder that later.

  “What does this thing do?” he asked Helena as they jogged into the road.

  “Supposedly, it turns monsters back into humans but I doubt that’s true.”

  The Winnebago’s engine roared to life and Quinn, having run ahead of Cash and Helena, blasted its rear end with more silver.

  “Don’t waste those!” Helena yelled and Quinn lowered the weapon to look over his shoulder at them.

  “They’re gonna get away.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “We still have the phone.”

  “The phone?” Cash asked.

  She ignored him. “Come on. We need to get back to the Jeep.”

  The three of them returned to the woods, which weren’t very deep, and crossed into a residential neighborhood where the Cherokee waited. They piled in, Cash climbing into the backseat while Quinn took the wheel.

  The movement made Helena grimace and Cash said, “Still hurt, huh?”

  She glared at him. “Of course I’m still hurt. I’m fucking human.”

  Quinn was driving the Cherokee much too fast but the area was empty of other traffic, it being so early in the morning. The rain had let up for the most part, but it was still slick out and Cash hoped they wouldn’t go sailing off the road and into a tree or a telephone pole.

  Helena had lifted a laptop off the dashboard and was now peering at the screen intently. Cash looked on from over her shoulder, curious.

  “GPS?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  Quinn took the curved freeway entrance too quickly and the Cherokee threatened to flip. Cash held his breath while Helena grabbed at the hand hold over her seat. “Jesus,” she gasped. But then the vehicle was righted and they were truly on the road, in pursuit of the RV and hopefully Bliss as well.

  “Faster,” Helena directed and Cash wondered if he should put on his seat belt, which was funny if you really thought about it. He was virtually immortal, even plowing face first through the windshield and colliding head on with a tree probably wouldn’t kill him, but it would hurt like a bitch and Cash was not all that fond of pain, despite being a pretty good actor about it.

  The Cherokee exceeded the speed limit by nearly forty MPH but they still didn’t know if it would be enough. Bliss had a decent head start on them but the RV might be within reach. Cash didn’t think Winnebagos could go very fast, given how annoying they tended to be when you were stuck behind them, but he supposed it could have been the fault of the most common drivers of the RVs, who seemed to always be elderly.

  Not this time though. This time Opal was driving and that chick was nothing if she wasn’t a woman with a mean temper. She probably didn’t give a shit if they were chasing her or not. Cash assumed it was Bliss she was trying to catch, most likely to take his head off and punt it to the moon. He could hardly blame her. Even he felt a little bad, leaving John and Walt back there in the road. Maybe they would recover but maybe not. If not, they almost certainly wouldn’t die. They’d lay there in agony, maybe fully aware of what was happening to them, until someone came along and moved them or perhaps an animal would decide they looked like good snack food. Either way, they were fucked unless they healed quickly enough to avoid those outcomes, which Cash didn’t think was likely. He wished he’d taken the time to put them out of their misery. Not that they deserved it. Especially Walt, who’d always taken such pleasure in not only eating people alive but basically torturing them as well, relishing their fright and laughing when they were so terrified they’d shit and piss themselves or pass out cold, only to be revived and tortured further, sometimes for days.

  The whole situation was fucked up.

  “We’re gaining on them,” Helena said, still consulting the laptop. “That fat ass RV couldn’t get out of its own way if it were on fire.”

  Still holding the Phoenix Blade, Cash said, “This really turns them back into humans?”

  “That’s the legend,” Quinn said, eyeing him in the rearview mirror. “We’ve never seen it work though.”

  “I think it’s bullshit,” Helena said. “But it sure seems to sting like a bitch. It’s sent more than one of those bastards off whimpering like a whipped dog.”

  She looked back at him as if suddenly realizing who she was talking to and held out her hand. “Maybe you should give that to me.”

  He hesitated. Could he trust her? What if she decided to try stabbing him with it? He didn’t think he wanted to be human again and certainly, as previously noted, he didn’t want to be writhing around in pain the way Melosia had been.

  “You stabbed your mother with this,” he said.

  Her face hardened. “I said give it to me.” She paused, then added, “Please.”

  He did as she asked, placing the blade in her extended palm. “And I stabbed my father.”

  Eyes widening, she said, “What?”

  Quinn took his eyes off the road to turn and peer at him for a moment.

  “That’s what he told me anyway,” Cash explained. “He told me he’s my father.” He let the news sink in for a moment, hoping it would make them trust him more. “And not only that,” he went on, “But he also said I’m not the only one.”

  Looking back at the road, Quinn said, “You mean those things can breed?”

  “Yeah,” Cash replied. “Apparently we can.”

  Quinn either didn’t care about his verbal
misstep or didn’t notice, but Cash could hardly blame him.

  “There’s the RV!” Helena said, leaning forward, the laptop forgotten.

  Cash didn’t know what these hunters intended to do when they caught up to the Winnebago but he was glad he was with them.

  “How many are in there?” she asked.

  He thought about it. “Three, I think.”

  “You think? You don’t know how many monsters you were traveling with?”

  “Make that four,” he said sheepishly.

  “Great,” she said, the word dripping with sarcasm.

  “If it makes you feel any better, your mother is one of them. She’s the one I forgot, actually.”

  This news didn’t seem to please Helena in the slightest.

  “She’s hurt though,” he added quickly. “She won’t be a threat.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?” Quinn asked.

  “Uh…” He realized it hadn’t been since they’d left the farmhouse. “It’s been a few hours,” he admitted.

  The two of them exchanged a glance Cash couldn’t read. Were they happy? Mad? Scared? He had no idea but he had a feeling he was about to find out as the Cherokee’s engine roared, closing the gap between the two vehicles. Just when Cash thought Quinn intended to rear end the RV, he swung into the other lane and sped up even further. Luckily, there was no oncoming traffic but another car could show up at any moment. The RV also sped up-whoever was driving had spotted them and was attempting to get away but it was too late. The moment Quinn pulled the Jeep alongside the Winnebago, Helena was rolling down the passenger side window while also reaching under her seat. She brought up one of those deadly shotguns as the laptop fell to the floor, forgotten.

  The sound of the shotgun blast in the Cherokee was enough to blow out an eardrum but Quinn held the Jeep steady whereas the driver of the RV-Opal, Cash could now see for sure-lost control of the vehicle, veering it sideways and off the road where it slammed to a stop in a ditch. Helena’s aim had been true and Opal’s brains splattered all over what remained of the driver’s side window and probably all over the interior of the captain’s chair area.

  Quinn skidded to a stop and he and Helena exited the Jeep like well-trained soldiers, fearless and efficient. Cash was impressed, watching them raise their weapons and bear down on the Winnebago, a unit in a way the monsters had never been.

  He jumped out of the Jeep, morphing as he did, not sure what to expect, but not particularly worried either.

  The screeching of tires made him twist around in the opposite direction, just in time to see Bliss’s Bronco turning sideways in the road. Bliss was leaping from the vehicle before it had come to a complete stop, flinging himself forward on powerful legs, directly at Cash. The two of them went tumbling to the ground in a snarling ball of claws and fangs and pain.

  Cash had barely registered what was happening and then he was fighting for his life in a way he’d never had to do before. Taking down humans was easy; facing one of his own, a superior in every way, wasn’t. Bliss’s fangs gnashed at his throat, searching for the carotid artery to rip out and then a blast from the shotgun hit Bliss in the back. He howled like a wounded animal but did not cease his attack on Cash.

  Barely able to hold Bliss’s jaws from his neck, Cash sunk his own claws into his opponent’s throat and still Bliss did not surrender his grip. A shadow fell on them both and Cash caught a glint of silver and then blood was splashing down into his face, coppery, hot and blinding.

  CHAPTER 29

  The instant Helena saw Quinn’s shotgun have little effect on Bliss, she dropped her own and went at him with the blade. Luckily, he was intent on killing Cash and didn’t see her coming. In one swift, practiced slash, she opened the monster’s throat, drenching Cash with its blood.

  It howled and rolled away, clawed hands clasping the gushing wound, fangs snapping reflexively at the air. Quinn blasted him again, knocking him back so hard, his feet left the ground for a moment before he landed on his ass, now clutching his open belly.

  Cash scrambled to his feet, rushing at Bliss and Helena slashed out at him as well, thrusting the blade into his upper chest just before he passed by. He stopped short and their eyes met. She saw the shock and betrayal there but both faded as quickly as they had appeared and his expression seemed to say, of course this is how it ends, how could I have thought otherwise?

  She almost felt pity for him but then the image of Sam flashed in her mind, Sam who was most probably dead and if not, at the very least, scarred for life. Mutilated. She stabbed Cash again, this time in the stomach, sliding the blade between his ribs with the ease of a sharpened claw through powdered snow.

  Cash made a gagging sound, his eyes still fixed on hers, before sinking to his knees as she pulled the knife free.

  “Helena!” Quinn yelled.

  She turned to see two females climbing out of the RV, one limping, with scraggly blonde hair. The other, she recognized. A tall, Latina beauty, long hair hanging over half her face.

  “Please!” the Latina yelled. “Don’t shoot me!”

  Quinn didn’t lower his weapon, his eyes ticking towards Helena for a split second.

  “Wait,” Helena told him.

  He still aimed the weapon at Melosia but Helena saw his finger relax on the trigger.

  Melosia had her hands in the air as though she were being arrested but the woman beside her just seemed confused, not saying anything, one hand pressed to her right thigh, slick with blood.

  Helena stood frozen, uncertain, her own pain coming in more frequent waves. She realized her shirt was damp and when she touched her belly, her hand came away red. She’d pulled the stitches out at some point in the attack and the world was beginning to go gray around the edges. She was nauseous and realized she’d probably been bleeding for quite a while.

  “Quinn,” she said. “I’m gonna pass out.”

  The ground suddenly rushed up, smacking her square in the face and she had to fight to keep her eyes open. All she wanted now was sleep. Just sleep. Nothing else mattered. Not the monsters, not Sam or Quinn or even herself. She found herself too exhausted to care what happened next. She was done. Game over.

  She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she opened her eyes again. It could have been two minutes, two hours, two days. The first sense she felt was that of being cold and wherever she was, it was bright. Turning her head, she realized she was on a small bed in a small room and there were people seated at a table nearby.

  “She’s awake,” a male voice said and then someone’s face filled up her vision. He looked familiar, she knew she should know who it was but her brain took several seconds before the name pushed through the fog.

  “Nick,” she said.

  “Stay still. We’re driving you to the hospital.”

  “Where am I?”

  “You’re in a Winnebago. You’ve lost a lot of blood. Don’t try to talk. We’re almost there.”

  A Winnebago. Alarm shot through her system and she made a feeble attempt to sit up, but Nick’s hand on her chest was strong and impossible to fight against.

  “Stay still,” he repeated.

  From somewhere else inside the RV, someone was moaning. A woman.

  “They’re in here?” she asked, frightened.

  “Only two,” Nick told her.

  A hand came out of nowhere and pressed itself against her forehead. Helena felt ill again and didn’t resist until Nick stepped aside and Melosia was there. Immediately, she tried to sit up again, searching herself for a blade that wasn’t there.

  “No!” she cried. “Get away from me!”

  “It’s okay,” Melosia said in a soft tone. “The blade worked. I’m not a monster anymore.”

  Helena wanted to scream. She was suddenly certain this was a nightmare. She’d had similar ones before. The monsters had her trapped, trying to lull her into a sense of comfort but then they would laugh maliciously and force their own blood down her throat, turning her
into one of them, a vicious abomination, hideous and eternal.

  “Relax,” Nick said. “It’s true. She’s human.”

  “No,” Helena said again, shaking her head back and forth. “It’s not possible.”

  “The Phoenix Blade works,” he explained. “It does what the myth says. It reverses the raising and makes them human again.”

  “That’s not possible. It’s just a story.”

  “It’s not,” Melosia said. “I have my life back and you to thank for it. My sweet girl.”

  “No! No, no, no, no.” Helena refused to belief it. She wouldn’t let herself. It was a ploy. Melosia could appear human whenever she wanted. She was hiding her true self until she had the opportunity to either attack or escape.

  “Look,” Melosia said and lifted her blouse to expose her midriff. Helena saw a terrible scar, a long straight slash that looked like both a cut and a burn. “I’m already healed.”

  It didn’t matter. Helena would not be fooled. “Where’s Quinn?” she asked.

  “He’s driving,” Nick told her. “Quinn say something to Helena.”

  If Quinn replied, Helena didn’t hear him. Instead, that insistent moaning came again and seeing the expression on Helena’s face, Nick said, “There’s another one here. I got her with the blade and now she’s changing back to human too.”

  “It’s a painful process,” Melosia added. “But so worth it.”

  “You’re a killer,” Helena cried. “You’re not human! You’re a monster!”

  “I’ve done horrible things,” Melosia said. She was about to say more but Nick touched her shoulder, stopping her.

  “We can have a family dispute later, okay? Right now, Helena, you should rest. We’ll be at the hospital in a few minutes. They’ll take good care of you there.”

  He pulled a thick blanket up to her chin and then both he and Melosia went away to sit at the small kitchen table again. The RV bumped over something and Helena’s stomach rolled again. Nick and Melosia spoke softly to each other, whispering, and Helena couldn’t make out anything they were saying. The groaning continued and eventually became weeping which turned into sobs of pain.

 

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