“Sam. Sam. We’ve got a bigger problem.”
Chapter Fifteen
James pointed to the pond. The lights grew brighter. The surface bulged. Water lapped at the edges. Something big was coming up. And James knew just what it was.
Sam’s eyes widened in his narrow face. “Oh shit.” He looked straight at James. “Run. Run right fucking now!”
James didn’t need any more encouragement. The three ran, Dad halfway into the pants Sam had brought him. It wasn’t far to where they’d parked. Get in the truck and get the hell out of there. He’d outrun the monster on an ATV. They could definitely get out of there in a pickup. Wet flesh and warm bloody earth squished beneath James’ feet. He nearly tripped over a tall skinny man in a coat and tie whose left half was shredded. He didn’t care. All that mattered was running.
Wood splintered behind them. James knew he shouldn’t look back. Just keep running, run, run, run…
But he looked back. And he wished he hadn’t.
The thing in the woods rose out of its watery lair, its tentacles looping around tree limbs.
Oh, my sweet God. It’s even bigger than I thought.
He’d seen the head and the first set of arms during the ATV race, but that wasn’t half of it. No, more like a third of it. The sinuous vastness kept pushing out of the pond, more tentacles lashing out to seize tree limbs and pull its bulk upward. Its enormous weight settled on the edge of the water, pushing up ridges of mud. Water cascaded down its sides like waterfalls and spilled across the clearing, thinning the pools of red blood.
The huge azure eyes swept the sanctuary, growing slightly larger as they took in the scene of slaughter. It crawled into the clearing like a huge snake from its hole, its bulk casting a shadow over the place of sacrifice now sodden with the blood of its worshippers. Its long tentacles reached out, first poking at Phil’s near-headless corpse. The first thought that rose to James’ mind was a dog discovering its master was dead.
The creature looked up, its gaze following the bodies as they radiated away from where it had been offered human sacrifices for God knows how long. Any moment now, it’d catch sight of them.
“Move!” James snarled. “Now! Before it sees us!”
That got the trio moving, but it was too late. The monstrosity opened its enormous mouth and roared.
It had been a long time since the gunshots. Amber couldn’t hear anything from the sanctuary.
Her grip tightened on her shotgun. She threw a glance over her shoulder. The road leading back to the tree farm entrance was where the danger would come from. There were congregants—probably armed congregants—at the entrance. Her job was to guard the truck. The cultist guards were the immediate danger.
But what if James and Sam didn’t come back with James’ dad? Sam had told her to run, but didn’t give her any more instructions. Her jaw tightened. He was the trained soldier, not her. He would know when to stand one’s ground and when to cut and run. The mine had gone off—half the county could’ve probably heard that—and then the gunshots. And then nothing. Her mind whirled. If there were gunshots after the mine went off, that meant James and Sam weren’t killed by their own weapon. Did they kill surviving cultists? Or were they wounded and did surviving cultists kill them?
She brought her shotgun to her shoulder and pointed it down the trail into hell. If any cultists came from that direction, she wanted to be able to hit them right away. The turkeys she’d hunted at the reservoir were innocent. Anybody worshiping the thing in the woods was most assuredly not.
As she stood with her gun pointing between the two statues, her gaze wandered over to them. Her stomach twisted inside her as she looked at the two mock-ups of the horror worshiped in the sanctuary beyond. The horror that ate her uncle from his feet up.
A shiver ran through her. If the abomination was anything like those totem poles, she didn’t want to see it. Ever.
The silence oppressed her. She swallowed. Where were James and Sam? If the cultists killed them, they’d be coming after her next. But nobody, friend or foe, came through the gap between the totem poles. Was everybody dead, like the end of that awful movie she’d heard about where three tourists were made into a centipede?
Then an ear-shattering roar like a dinosaur from a movie cracked the gloom. Amber jumped, nearly dropping the gun. There were black bears in the rural parts of the county, but she’d never heard one roar like that. There was only one thing around here that could possibly make a noise like that. Only one.
Fear rolled throughout her body, setting sweat beading on her brow. She could get in the truck and drive away. Even if it came hunting for her, she could outrun it. James had on the ATV, after all.
She breathed in and out. To hell with running away. Her kin didn’t leave Edington even though the cult murdered her uncle. She wasn’t going to leave James and Sam to die like her uncle had at the hands—tentacles—of some monster.
Gripping her weapon tightly, she set off toward the sanctuary.
The monster roared. James grit his teeth at the pain in his ears. His legs suddenly turned to jelly. He stumbled. He remembered Bill dying on the abomination’s claws, his pushing the ATV accelerator the way down to get away. And pissing himself.
Luckily he didn’t feel the need to do that just now.
Suddenly Amber came around the bend, a shotgun in her hands. James tried to stop himself. Gravel flew, but he still slammed into her anyway. They both tumbled into the mud. The shotgun flew from James’ hands.
Sam was almost on top of them when James pulled himself to his feet. Amber wasn’t far behind him.
“Amber!” Sam demanded. “What the hell?”
“I heard gunshots!” she said. “Then nothing. Then the roar. I…” Her voice trailed away. Her eyes bulged. Her jaw worked silently. James knew at long last she’d set her eyes upon the thing that killed her uncle, the thing the cult she feared worshiped.
“Sam!” James interrupted. “Claymore!” He didn’t know whether or not the mine could actually hurt something that damn big, but it was worth a shot. Sam had left the mines by the bush when he’d confronted Phil. They were right there, ready to be planted.
Sam had his AR-15 shouldered. “You plant it! You saw what I did!”
“Got it!” The words were out of James’ mouth before he really had time to think. He had seen how Sam had set the mine, but the memory ran away, driven by mind-shaking fear. The rifle popped, but the monster didn’t even flinch.
Hands trembling, James took up the mine. He looked up. The monster was advancing now, its bulk pushing aside the mangled cultists. One man moaned before the train of black flesh rolled over him. Sam kept firing. Turquoise rivulets ran from the holes he’d punched in the monster’s skin, but the abomination wasn’t even slowing down.
“James! Now!” Sam demanded. He pointed at Dad. “Amber, you get him out of here!”
While Amber and Dad ran one way, James ran the opposite. He jammed the mine into the wet ground between the bush and a mangled cultist. That one looked almost like his grandmother. He looked away and busied himself plugging the detonator cable into the mine.
Something deeper than the AR-15 shouted behind him. He glanced back. Amber and her shotgun had joined the party. She must’ve sent Dad on toward the car. Without a gun of his own, there wasn’t much he could do anyway.
He looked forward. The monster was coming straight at him, rolling like a wave of lava. A multitude of eyes locked on him.
“Yeah, you bastard!” James shouted at it. “I’m the one that got away! You miss me?”
The eyes narrowed. James suddenly needed to piss. The thing understood him. It was intelligent.
As if things couldn’t get any worse.
James jammed the other end of the cord into the detonator. He didn’t have time to aim. The thing was so damn big it wasn’t like he really needed to.
The cable spilled away as James scampered back, bending it around the bush. Amber quickly joined him. Only S
am stayed where he was. James didn’t know how far back the explosion would reach, but he was pretty sure it’d hit Sam.
“Come on!” James shouted.
Sam picked up the last Claymore and ran. He didn’t get far when a huge black tentacle struck like a scorpion tail, burying a hooked claw into his shoulder. The blow slammed him into the mud just beyond the dying bush. The Claymore flew out of his hands, landing a few feet away from James.
Amber shouldered the shotgun again. The weapon boomed in James’ right ear. The tentacle flinched. Turquoise blood burst from many small wounds. James got the idea immediately. He pumped the forearm handle to spit out the casing from the shell that killed Phil and brought the weapon to his shoulder. No hesitation this time, not with the monster. Thunder cracked. The shotgun slammed into his shoulder, knocking him back a step. But the trickle of blood was now a pour. He and Amber must’ve hit something important.
Amber fired again as the tentacle started pulling Sam back. Then she threw the shotgun aside and ran toward Sam.
“Stay back!” Sam shouted. He buried his hands in the wet ground. The tentacle pulled taut. Sam screamed. James aimed again, trying to line up the shotgun with where the unholy limb was bloodiest while not hitting Amber. He’d blow the bastard’s arm clean off.
With a wet tearing sound that made James sick to his stomach, the tentacle came apart where they’d hit it. Sam dragged himself forward, shirt soaked with mingled red and turquoise blood and what was left of the tentacle hanging off his back.
Then Dad appeared from behind them. He ran up and grabbed Sam’s hands, pulling him away from the monster. They’d barely gotten a few feet when even more tentacles lashed out. Another hooked claw buried itself in Sam’s back. Dad threw himself out of the way. The tentacle that would have speared him instead slammed into his side, sending him sprawling. He crawled toward James and Amber as the tentacle hoisted Sam in the air.
Just like Bill.
No, it wasn’t just like Bill. James had no weapon then. Now he had the Claymore detonator in his hands, and Sam floated out of the line of fire. James had just a moment before the tentacle would drag Sam into its huge mouth.
“James!” Sam shouted. “Blow the Claymore! Kill it now!”
He snatched up the detonator and squeezed the trigger.
Nothing happened. His heart leaped into his throat. Did something come loose when he was unspooling the cable? If the problem was the end plugged into the mine, they were screwed, but if it was the end plugged into the trigger?
He jammed the cord and trigger together. The tentacle holding Sam pulled him toward the slavering mouth with far too many sharp teeth. James pumped the trigger once, twice, three times.
Light flashed. James looked away. The terrible roar drove blades of pain into his ears. Despite the distance and the bush, the claymore’s backblast rolled over him, nearly knocking him onto his ass in the mud. Something wet and hot slammed into his face, soaking through the bandage to burn in the wound the creature had left on his cheek. Amber and Dad cried out in pain beside him. A quick glance saw blood on their faces and clothes, but not much.
“It’s hurt!” Amber shouted. James finally dared to look. He gasped.
The thing wallowed amid the broken and shattered bodies of its worshipers. Glowing blue-green blood, so much like its terrible eyes, covered its black skin. The blood pumped from hundreds of wounds the Claymore had torn into its shiny black flesh. Steaming fluids cascaded from pulped eyes. Still-living tentacles writhed on the muddy ground, dragging themselves away from the monster they’d been torn from as they grasped reflexively.
Movement in front of the monster seized James’ attention. Someone tried to push themselves up amid the welter of human and monstrous gore. Blood matted the man’s red hair and the camouflage he wore. It was Sam! James had been too slow. He’d been caught in the blast.
Sam’s chest still ached from Phil’s gunshot. Now his legs and behind burned with pain. He pulled himself up on both arms, ignoring the burning any movement brought. One of his black boots lay ahead. The boot was full of meat. Sam tried to wriggle his toes. It worked for his left foot, however much the pain nearly blinded him. But nothing at all on his right.
He looked behind him. His right leg was gone below mid-shin. The damn blue-on-blue he’d thought he’d left behind in the Gulf had taken his damn foot. Anger rose in him. He shook his head.
Serves me right for worshipping the damn monster all these years, helping offer folk to it. Standing by when Leroy Tolliver was offered up to it…
Sam shook his head. He had more immediate problems. He looked up. The movement jolted the two claws buried in his back, sending waves of pain throughout his torso. One arm gave out. He fell down into the mud. His chin slammed into the ground. He momentarily saw black. Ignoring the pain as best he could, he kept his attention locked on the monstrosity in front of him.
The thing lay there amid the bloody clearing. The only movement was from some tentacles ripped away by the explosion, still clutching dead men or each other. The movement slowed as the last life left them.
Had James killed it? That’d serve Phil right. The thing he’d thought was a god, killing by good old-fashioned American know-how and one of the city kids he hated so much. He pushed himself back up on his elbows, despite the pain and the weight of the severed tentacles. The creature lay unmoving in front of him, blood trickling from its many wounds.
Sam laughed. Maybe they were getting out of this alive after all. He’d need to be fitted with a fake lower leg, but a lot of the boys coming back from Iraq and Afghanistan had those. They didn’t seem too bad off.
Then the monster twitched. Sam’s heart sank. It wasn’t over yet.
Several eyes in the midst of its bulk rolled open wide and staring. Its vast jaws parted. Many teeth hung from tendrils of black flesh, but still more were firmly embedded in its maw. Several tentacles, claws gone but still attached to its body, worked their way across the wet ground.
Where was his rifle? He tore his attention away from the mouth big enough to swallow a car. If he could get some shots into its open mouth, maybe it’d damage something vital. Back in the Gulf, there’d been a showoff sniper who’d shot an Iraqi through his open mouth. The bullet had punched through the poor conscript’s brain stem. Maybe there was something similar in the monstrosity.
There! His rifle lay in the mud to his right. He reached for it, wincing at every movement. His hand closed around the cold metal stock. When he pulled, the barrel and magazine came away. The blast had shattered his weapon more thoroughly than it had his body.
Well son of a bitch. Sam wasn’t going to be able to do anything anytime soon, and the monster was recovering.
Its remaining eyes locked on him, glaring like someone bigger he’d gotten a lucky hit on and pissed off. Fear sent waves of trembling through his body, the pain making him see red.
“The Lord is my shepherd,” he whispered. Hot blood dripped from his mouth to spatter on his hands. “I shall not want…”
The abomination he’d once worshiped charged.
James screamed wordlessly. The monster surged toward Sam, its glowing blood soaking the ground around it. Sam didn’t have time to scream before the enormous mouth engulfed him. The thing threw its head back like an alligator on Animal Planet. When it opened its mouth to spew mud and grass, the detritus was soaked with mingled blood, both human and monstrous.
He snatched up the shotgun and pulled the trigger. This time he held it properly, and the recoil wasn’t too bad. With a scream of rage, Amber fired too.
The creature reared like a cobra and swung its huge head to face them. Most of its eyes were gone, but the remaining ones burned with rage.
James looked to the last Claymore near his feet. He hoped nothing important was damaged. Gripping the shotgun with one hand, he ran forward and snatched it up.
“Get to the cars!” Dad interrupted. “It’s hurt! That’ll slow it down!”
James di
dn’t need any encouragement. The three ran just as the monster surged their way. The sound of its bulk sliding along the ground thundered in his ears. He threw a glance behind him. Wounded as it was, it was still pretty damn fast.
The path curved ahead. It wasn’t far to the cars.
“Through the trees!” James shouted. They could move between the trees. It—probably—couldn’t.
Dad and Amber turned left, abandoning the path to pass under the pines. James followed. The thing roared behind them. Wood cracked. A quick glance showed clawed tentacles sinking into the pine trees’ flesh. James swallowed. The thing wasn’t going to let the woods slow it down, not for long.
They quickly passed through the woods into the parking lot. There they ran into more trouble. Two more cultists were getting out of an old blue sedan. Both were armed. One pointed a long finger at James.
“It’s that kid!”
The other, shorter and uglier, raised some kind of rifle. James didn’t have time to aim his shotgun. He wasn’t even sure if he had any shells left in the gun and he didn’t have time to get any of the shells from his pocket.
Amber’s shotgun roared beside him. The glass in the open car door exploded almost musically. The armed cultist flew backward onto the gravel. The other ducked behind the open car door.
James looked behind him. The creature’s huge blackness pushed through the trees. Glowing turquoise blood trickled between the pine trees’ scales. Its remaining eyes locked on them like those of an obsessed madman.
“Get down!” Dad threw himself atop James. The two tumbled, the rough gravel stabbing at James’ bare arms. A gunshot cracked a moment later.
“Amber!” James shouted.
“I’m fine!” she shouted back. A shotgun blast emphasized her point.
James lay on his side facing the cultists’ car. He had the perfect shot at the survivor’s legs. He pulled the trigger and hoped he wasn’t empty.
The shotgun boomed. The blast blew the man’s legs out from under him. There was a scream and a thud as the man toppled headfirst into the other side of the door.
The Thing in the Woods Page 16