CHAPTER SEVEN
Gordon's shouts and the screaming, which can only be Evie, is accompanied by panicked barking. For fuck’s sake. They dragged Scruff along too? Had they been tailing us this whole time?
“Jesus, it's Gordon.” Mike turns his terrified eyes my way as we come to the same realization. “How the hell?”
“No time for questions,” Luke barks as he thumbs the safety off of his weapon. “They need our help. Docs, stay here. We don't need to be watching your asses along with our own.”
“No,” Doc Howarth fires back, and I'm surprised at the steel in his voice. “We can help.” His death grip on his rifle belies his bravado, but his face is determined.
“Fine.” Luke doesn't argue. There's no time. “But you listen and follow my orders to a T, understood?”
Both of them nod in agreement.
“HELP!” Another shout stops any more discussion.
“Let’s go.” We move on Luke’s command.
We follow the terrified screaming down Main Street toward the town limits. It doesn't take us long to find them. The yelling leads us right to them....and the horde that's hunting them like they're the remnants of the last supper.
Jesus, Joseph, and Mary! There are so many fucking leeches. Where the hell did they come from? The moving mass of shadow extends at least three deep across the open highway. A sea of flesh tearing teeth, breathing down the kids’ necks.
“Shit,” Badger yells as we all skid to a stop like we just hit a brick wall. “What do we do?”
Even in the pale moonlight, I can tell Gordon and Evie are losing ground. The horde is closing in, and it won't be long before they reach their intended feast...or us. We have to do something and quick.
“Just start shooting,” I fire back over the increasing noise of the horde. “Get them off of the kids’ backs and give them room to get to safety.”
We do just that. Spreading out across the dark road, we take our stance and shoot, determined to keep them from becoming fodder.
Not being the greatest with a gun to begin with, the darkness doesn't help me much and I pray to God I don't hit one of the kids by mistake. But I fire into the crowd of leeches anyway since the alternative is not acceptable. We need to get them off the kids’ asses long enough to get them inside.
The roar of gunfire fills my ears and my head, blocking out every other sound as we try to beat back the oncoming legion. I'm kind of glad for the drowning noise, not sure if I could handle all the disgusting wet gurgling that went along with these fuckers anyway.
Gordon and Evie are close enough now for me to see the panic and terror on their pale faces. They aim straight for us, barely ahead of their pursuers, and so intent on us they miss the shadow that appears over the side of the road, loping toward them with the speed of an attacking predator. I catch a glimpse of the snapping monster in my peripheral.
“Look out!” I scream as the once very large, bald man crouches like a cat and pushes himself off toward his intended midnight snack.
I'm not sure if they don't hear me, or if the fear is too much and they simply block me out. Either way, neither Gordon or Evie respond to my warning, and the leech barrels into the young ginger's shoulder, knocking him off kilter. Gordon regains his balance, but the leech is quicker. That slight moment of stumbling hesitation is all it needs. The thing hanging from the bald man's mouth aims with laser-like precision for Gordon's throat.
“NO!” Panic squeezes my heart in a painful fist as I wait for the kid's throat to be ripped out in front of my eyes.
“GET DOWN,” Robyn yells and this time he listens.
Gordon ducks as a blaze of bullets sends the thing staggering backwards and into the stampeding horde. Thankfully, the flailing leech takes out a few of his closer companions as he bowls into them, giving the kids some breathing room. But they won't stay down for long.
“Move your asses,” I scream at them. They sprint faster, practically falling at our feet as they reach us. Evie is crying hard, not even bothering to try and hide it. I grab her arm to keep her upright as she falls into me. Luke yells at me over her head.
“You and Doc H get them back to the garage. We'll try to hold these things off to give you time. And grab the extra ammo.”
As much as I don't want to leave my crew, I don't waste time arguing the order. Luke's right. Unlike the other buildings with their useless broken windows, the garage's solid steel doors will keep them out and keep us protected from their sense of smell. If they can't smell or see us, they can't find us. The garage is our only option.
“C'mon,” I order Evie as she sways. I don't know how long they've been running from the horde, but she's obviously exhausted. “Not much farther, but I need you to do this. Safety is just up the street.”
She perks up some at my encouragement and picks up her pace again. Just in time too. The horde seems to be aware of losing their dinner as their wet gurgling intensifies.
“Move.” I shove her none too gently away from the sounds of gun battle. They won't be able to hold them off for long. I need to get those extra mags.
Doc H takes the lead, heading straight for the garage, Gordon on his heels. Not that far. Just back up the street and past the other few buildings. We can make it.
The hulking shadows of the diner and the first office building come into view.
“Keep following Doc,” I order the two kids. “The garage is on the other side...” I bring up short and nearly trip over Scruff as he stiffens and brakes right in front of me.
“What the fuck, Dog,” I bark at him as I try to go around, but the bristling of his back and the growling is unmistakeable.
“Doc,” I yell, and the fear in my voice must resonate since they stop moving. Scruff is staring at the alley between the diner and the offices, and I peer in trying to decipher the shadows of the night.
Is that movement? I narrow my eyes and look harder. The moonlight throws a decent splash of illumination down into the alley, enough for me to notice the subtle shift marring the blackness as a body moves forward on stealthy feet. Yup, someone or something is in there all right, waiting to attack us. Sneaky bastard. But if it's a leech, that's a behavior I've never seen it display before. An attack is a calculated move.
I raise my gun, expecting for the thing to burst from the alley at any moment. The Doc and Gordon follow suit.
“Bixby! Behind you!” Evie's scream nearly busts my eardrum as she looms in my face, shaking my arm in terror. I spin just in time to see another leech barreling down on us from the opposite alleyway. What the hell? Had they just set us up for a fucking ambush?
The shock doesn't get time to settle in my brain since the abomination is almost on top of us. I shoot, hoping desperately that Doc and Gordon can take care of the other part of this carnivorous duo. My shots go wild, and I miss by a mile. So wild, I'm pretty sure I even missed the damn building across the street. Why do I even have a fucking gun?
The leech is too close now for another shot. I can see its crazed, muddy eyes rolling in their sockets and hear the hungry keening coming out of its throat. The sounds make me wanna turn tail and run. Instead I make a snap decision and step to its left as it hurls itself at me, swinging the rifle's stock at the flailing worm and the razor-blade teeth. I strike the leech dead center in the face, a spray of blood misting my neck and cheek. The swing, fueled by my adrenaline, is enough to take the leech off of its feet and flat on its back.
Dropping the rifle like a hot potato, I yank my knife and straddle the sprawled creature before it can get back up, plunging the blade into the thing’s chest and straight through the heart. It defies its death at first and tries to dislodge me, but the blood finally stops pumping and it falls still.
“Gordon?” I question, reaching for my gun. He answers me right away.
“We got this one taken care of. Both of 'em down for the count.”
“Those two maybe,” Doc H adds, his voice tight with anxiety. “But the rest of the crew are comi
ng. And they're bringing the party with them.”
I follow his pointing finger. He's right. The rest of the hunters have obviously run out of bullets and now run towards us full tilt, the bodies behind them in pursuit like a gaggle of kids after an ice cream truck. So much for holding them back. I think all they really did is piss them off.
“GO! GO!” The shout reaches my ears seconds after my legs are already in motion. They don't need to tell us twice. We're well aware the garage is our only salvation.
We sprint ahead, Nat's already in sight and beckoning to us like a beacon of hope. We're going to make it. Just a little bit further....
We hear them before we see them. The phlegmy keening floats through the windless night, heralding their arrival from the east of us and causing my heart to drop to the bottom of my stomach.
“Fuck,” I cuss under my breath as we stumble to a stop. “Fuckity fuck fuck fuck,” There's no mistaking the second horde heading towards us from the opposite end of Main Street. A whole new bunch of leeches, drawn to our screaming and shooting. Where the hell they're coming from, I'm not sure, but I think we just found the remaining residents of Maple Haven.
They stumble down the street, searching on instinct for the interruption that had garnered their miserable attention.
“You gotta be kidding me,” I mutter, eyeing the approaching threat and sneaking a glance over my shoulder at the other damned pack of leeches. They are the bigger threat at the moment. The others, although interest peaked, seem to be still unaware of us. We can make it to Nat's before they do, if we bust our humps.
“Run there.” I point to the garage, finger wagging.
I can tell the moment the new bastards get our scent. Their movements change from a bumbling shuffle to a frenzied twisting and jerking of their bodies as they break into a run. Their primal instinct to feed awakened by the coppery odor of our adrenaline-fueled, pounding blood.
Even as we run toward them, I'm calculating the distance in my head between us and safety. We may make it, the four of us. We may make it in time to the garage, but Luke and the others don't stand a chance in hell. They'll meet up with the eastern horde before they'll reach the safety of the garage. Sandwiched between the two deadly threats. And there's no way in hell I'm letting that happen while I'm tucked safely inside.
“Gordon, get Evie and the Doc inside that garage and grab the ammo. I'm going back,” I order as I throw the gun down in disgust. Not even sure I have any damn bullets left, but I know I'm useless with that thing. Drawing my knives, I turn back in the direction of my crew. If there's going to be a showdown, I'll need to be at the top of my game.
“Hell no.” Gordon's response doesn't surprise me, or even the Doc's as everyone falls in line behind me. I didn't expect any less and have no time to argue. Besides, bottom line, we're a team and a team stays together.
Luke is the first to see us running their way, shocked surprise replacing the grimace of exertion on his face.
“What the hell you idiots doing?” His yell carries over the terrifying sounds of the predators on our heels.
“We're cut off,” I yell back, jerking my thumb over my shoulder at the other horde closing in.
“Fuck a duck.” Don't know who says it, maybe Dom, but the meaning is unmistakeable. We're so screwed.
“Change of plans,” Luke barks roughly. “Head through the alleyway on the left, draw the horde through there. Hopefully it'll clear the street, and we can circle around the buildings to the garage.”
I nod in agreement. Not much of a plan but better than us playing the BLT role in this horde sandwich. Leeches aren't the smartest beings in the universe. Change the trajectory and hope they follow suit like a dog on a leash. Without losing stride, we steer away from the approaching legion of blood suckers on either side and make a run for the alley.
My blood pumps through my veins and fuels my body with intense adrenaline. The survival instinct is an admirable human trait and probably the only thing keeping us alive right now, dampening our fear. No time for emotion. We need to keep our heads on straight if we're going to get out of this alive.
The alley looms to our left and we run toward it, intent on reaching it before they reach us. We can do this. This is going to work.
“Abort! Abort!” There's no mistaking Dom this time. He skids to a halt, and Luke nearly runs him over in his haste. Why the hell is he yelling abort?
Then I see them. Blocking the alleyway and our chance of escape. Leeches exiting from the alley like maggots squirming from the mouth of a rotting corpse. I don't understand. It's like they have a plan. Almost as if they know what we are trying to do.
“Right alley.” Luke fires at us, quickly changing the plan and we move as one unit, heading in the opposite direction. But to no avail. They've already infiltrated that exit as well. A solid sea of leeches surrounding us on all sides.
“Fuck. We're surrounded,” Dom grounds out stupidly.
Like we don't know that already? Thanks, Captain Obvious. I try to control my panic, drumming my fingers along the handles of my bowie knives and wiping the sweat from my lip with the back of my hand. A reflex born out of my fear. We're going to have to fight our way out of this mess, and the odds are not in our favour.
There's no time to form a new game plan. The predators move in with the speed of a crashing wave. My heart reverberates loudly in my ears as it nearly beats from my chest. This is it. This is the final countdown.
“Orb it,” Luke orders us into the defensive formation as he holsters his empty weapon on his back and pulls his own knife.
His voice rings out steady and strong, showing no trace of the fear that's clawing at my throat. Even in our last moments, he stays the consummate leader—in total control. We hustle to form the circle, back to back and blades ready. Our last line of defense. Take care of the ones you can see and let the person behind you deal with what’s at your back. We've fought this way before....but that had been a small horde. This? This is something from my worst nightmare.
I send a silent prayer heaven bound as I glance over at Luke. He stares back at me, his eyes hard with determination and anger.
“We can do this,” he snarls at me like he can feel the hopelessness radiating off of me. “Don't you dare give up.”
I nod in response, even though I think he's totally full of bullshit. There's no coming back from this, no matter how much he refuses to believe it.
The tidal wave of blood suckers encompasses us now, shrinking our safety radius. A solid wall of stinking bodies and snapping teeth. Bile rises in the back of my throat, and I swallow it down. Taking my fighting stance, I ready my knives. Last thing I want is to be taken out as a hors d'oeuvre, but if I'm going down, I'm gonna take as many of these fuckers with me as I can. The roar from them is almost unbearable, hurting my ears with its reverberating thunder. When the hell did they start roaring?
Suddenly I realize the roar is not coming from them. It sounds like....like an engine?
Glaring lights blind me for a second before swerving away as a hulking shadow ploughs through the mass of bodies, sending some of them literally flying through the air. Gunshots shatter the night, competing with the foreign thunder. Heads of the leeches closest to me suddenly explode like overripe melons as a hail of bullets pierce the night air. We have no ammo left, so who the fuck is shooting?
The unrecognizable shadow solidifies into a solid steel vision from the past. An honest to goodness army truck pulls abreast of us, mowing down the leeches in its path with brutal precision. The deuce-and-a-half’s huge tires make mincemeat out of the eastern horde as it barrels over anything in its way and comes to a stop about ten feet in front of us.
Like fire and brimstone angels from Heaven’s army, the figures in the open bed of the truck continue shooting at our attackers. The air turns heavy with misting blood and tattered flesh, but still they keep cutting them down. My crew—hope renewed—join in with our blades, clearing a path between us and our rescuers.
<
br /> “Come on!” someone from the truck shouts at us as the tail gate falls open with an echoing clang of metal. We don't give the command a second thought. We may be jumping from the pan into the fire, but getting in that truck will at least give us the opportunity to live and fight another day. Given the choice between our necks torn out or the strangers in the truck? We choose the strangers. And they don't even have to bribe us with candy.
Evie runs ahead of me and as we approach the tailgate, I push her into the arms of one of our rescuers. He nearly yanks her off of her feet as he pulls her in. “Scruff,” she yells as she whirls with frantic eyes, but the dog's not nearly as stupid as he looks. He almost bowls me over trying to wedge his way past and into the truck.
“Get in.” The dark shadow lunges for me, and I reach for the outstretched hand just as a cry of pain and terror turns my blood to ice. I turn to the chaos behind me, searching for the source of the scream among the Hell mob.
Badger is down on his back on the ground about four feet away, a fucking leech hovering over him. His left arm is wrapped tight around his neck and the only thing preventing the creature from ripping out his jugular. Instead the leech has only managed to attach to Badger’s forearm, the sharp teeth locked deep into the flesh.
Without hesitation I run back, lunging at the creature and my arm already in motion as I come down hard, burying my knife deep between its shoulder blades.
It rears its ugly head at my attack, and the protruding worm disengages its bloody maw from Badger's flesh with a sickening rip. A hunk of flesh hangs obscenely from its lips as it swivels and tries to focus its attention on its new target. Me.
I duck on instinct as a shot whizzes by my ear and strikes the creature dead center, exploding the disgusting thing’s chest and flipping it head over heels.
“Keep them off of us,” Luke commands harshly over his shoulder to the unknown shooters in the truck as he rushes to join me at Badger's side. They follow the order, clearing us a path. Luke grabs Badger’s good arm and yanks him to his feet. Badger covers the jagged wound with his other hand, trying to contain the injury, but blood squirts out between his fingers and stains his hand red. I slide my hand under his armpit on his injured side to get a grip, ignoring his cry of pain. No time to worry about being gentle. We need to move him as quick as we can. Keeping him upright, we practically lift him off of his feet as we rush him up to the tailgate and into the back of the truck.
Strain of Defiance (Bixby Series Book 2) Page 8