by P. N. Elrod
Holy shit!
Ryder had always refused to learn to fight in his grandfather’s inherited plate mail, and at this moment, he wanted to kick his own ass for not listening. No way was his leather jacket going to stop that weapon from slicing him down to the bone. If it managed to hit something vital, game over.
Behind the monster, Jordan made a run for the kitchen. He prayed there was another way out, and if so, he was going to need to hold the doorway so they had time to get away.
With that thought in mind, Ryder flung the remains of the chair at the Terraphage’s orange eyes and made a break for the kitchen. He slid through the opening and slammed the door shut behind him. It was made of wood, nice and solid, but after what he’d seen that thing do to the chair seat, he was convinced it wouldn’t hold long.
A stainless-steel shelf stocked with supplies sat next to the door. Ryder grabbed the top shelf and toppled it over in front of the door.
“What are you doing?” asked Jordan. She was breathless, and panic raised her voice an octave.
“Giving you time to escape.”
“There’s no way out of here.”
The door shuddered under the Terraphage’s first attack.
“Then why the hell did you run in here?” he demanded. He needed more barriers to pile in front of the doorway. Something—anything to put in the path of that thing.
“I thought we’d be safe in here. It would give you time to kill it.”
“Listen, lady. There is no killing it. I tried to tell you that before. You run or you die.” He grabbed a sack of flour and piled it onto the toppled shelving. “Is there a window or anything you can use to get out?”
“No.”
“Then you’d better start tearing a hole through the wall.”
“It’s brick.”
“Hope you’ve got some dynamite, then, or we’re all dead.”
Anne whimpered, making Ryder feel like shit for scaring her more. She already knew she was going to die. He didn’t need to make it worse by scaring her more.
Ryder pushed a giant, freestanding mixer across the floor, ripping the cord from the wall. He shoved it onto the sloppy pile, knowing even as he did it that the effort was futile.
Jordan cradled her daughter. Her face was pale as death. “Closest thing I have is a propane tank I use on the grill in the summer.”
Ryder froze as the beginnings of a plan slithered into his mind. “Where is it?”
“Pantry.” She pointed toward an open doorway.
He ran to the pantry, found the tank. He couldn’t tell if it was completely full, but it was their best shot.
“Get in the pantry and stay there,” he ordered.
“What are you going to do?”
“Try to drive it back to where it came from.” Or at least send it off to find someone else to eat who was less trouble.
“What can I do to help?”
“Pray for a miracle.”
Jordan hugged her daughter’s trembling body. They were both huddled in the back corner of the pantry, as far away from that abomination as they could get. They couldn’t see what was happening, which somehow made things more frightening. If Ryder failed, they’d have no clue the monster was coming for them until it was too late.
“It’s gonna eat us,” whispered Anne. “Just like in my dreams.”
“No, baby. Ryder’s going to kill it and we’re all going to walk away.” The lie didn’t sound convincing, even to Jordan’s own ears.
“I don’t want to die, Mama.”
“You’re not going to die.”
A rumbling roar bellowed out from the monster, shaking the canned goods on the wooden shelves. Anne flinched and tightened her hold around Jordan’s waist.
Ryder shouted a violent curse that rang with pain. A gunshot went off. The monster hissed and hit a wall hard enough to topple some of the dry goods from their shelves. A can of green beans rolled toward Jordan’s toes.
Anne was right. They weren’t going to make it out of here alive, not if Jordan didn’t help him.
“Stay right here, baby. I’m going to help Ryder kill it and I’ll be right back.”
“No, Mama. Don’t go.”
Jordan cradled her daughter’s precious face in her hands. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks, and her blue eyes pleaded for Jordan to stay. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Anne shook her head. “You don’t know. You haven’t seen what it can do.”
“Those were just dreams. You’ll see when this is all over that the dreams weren’t real.”
“The monster showed up like in my dreams. Ryder showed up like in my dreams. We’re gonna die like in my dreams, too.”
“No. I’m not going to let that happen. You stay here. Stay quiet. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
Jordan kissed her forehead, maybe for the last time. Tears stung her eyes as she soaked in her daughter’s face. She didn’t want to leave her, but she’d do whatever it took to even the odds against that thing.
“Love you, baby.”
“Love you, too,” said Anne, her voice weak with fear and tears.
Before Jordan could change her mind, she turned and left.
The shelving in front of the kitchen door was a mangled mass of metal. The bag of flour had burst open, covering everything in a fine layer. Blood splattered the floor, mixing grotesquely with the white powder.
The fight had moved back into the main room of the coffeehouse. She could hear the hissing of the monster and Ryder’s acidic curses coming from the next room.
Jordan hurried over the floor, careful not to slip in the flour. She grabbed the knife caddy on her way out, thinking she could hurl them at the beast if nothing else. She wasn’t a fighter, but she’d do whatever it took to protect her baby girl.
As she cleared the doorway, she saw Ryder dodge a massive tentacle that shot out from the monster’s stomach. The tip of it gleamed red with his blood, as did the claws on one of the beast’s giant paws.
Ryder had been injured. He was a strong, fast, capable man. What chance did she have against something as huge and powerful as this?
A panicked gale of laughter rose up in her chest. She fought it down, not wanting to give away her presence. Maybe if it didn’t know she was here, she could get in a lucky shot.
Jordan had never thrown a knife before, but she’d seen it done on TV. She grabbed the biggest one she had by the blade and flung it end over end toward one of the monster’s eyes.
The handle hit just to the left of where she aimed, bouncing off harmlessly. She hadn’t managed to hurt it, but she had managed to get the thing’s attention.
Great.
The fiery light in its eyes flared, trapping her gaze. The greasy weight of fear descended on her, pinning her in place. Like a deer frozen in headlights, she was unable to move. She couldn’t even breathe. An alien presence slithered into her thoughts, burrowed into her brain like a worm. The world stopped. Time fell away. She heard a hissing whisper buzzing in her ears, telling her hope was futile. Death was easier. All she had to do was hold still and it would all be over. Let it eat her, just as Anne had said.
Poor, sweet Anne. Her baby was going to have to grow up without a mother. If she was lucky enough to grow up at all.
The monster lumbered toward her, growing larger by the second. Jordan tried to close her eyes. She didn’t want to see it happen, but she couldn’t look away. The monster wouldn’t let her. It held her gaze, whispering to her of death and peace.
How could there be any peace without Anne? Who was going to take care of her? She couldn’t stand here and let this thing eat her. She had to fight.
The fiery light in the monster’s eyes flared brighter, and a searing pain exploded between Jordan’s temples. The hissing inside her ears grew louder. Her knees locked. Her body shook under the strain of trying to break free from the monster’s hold.
It was close now—close enough to touch. It opened its jaws, and Jordan could feel its satis
faction slithering inside her mind. It knew it had won.
Jordan put the image of her baby’s face in her mind and clung to that. Her mind filled with memories of Anne’s first laugh, her first step, her first day of school, when she seemed far too little to be away for so long. She’d been so brave that day, wiping away Jordan’s tears and telling her she was a big girl now. She’d come home from school devastated that she hadn’t learned to read that day, and it had been Jordan’s turn to wipe away the tears.
So many happy memories of going to the zoo or watching cheesy movies and making up their own dialogue. Jordan was going to miss so much of Anne’s life, but she’d take her baby’s sweet smile with her and hold it close, always.
A heavy weight slammed into her, knocking her off her feet. Shock ripped her eyes open, despite her desire not to witness her gruesome death. Instead of the monster, it was Ryder who was on top of her. He’d knocked her out of its path and was now shielding her with his body.
Now that she was no longer looking into the monster’s eyes, the hissing whisper was gone from her mind and she was back behind the wheel of her own body. She blinked up at Ryder, trying to shed the lethargy in her limbs and the suicidal haze in her mind. She wasn’t sure what had just happened—how it had turned her into a person she didn’t recognize—but she knew she wasn’t going to let it happen again. No more looking into the monster’s eyes.
“Get back in the damn pantry,” growled Ryder, then he rolled over and started firing at the thing. It roared in pain and reared back. The tentacle flapped in the air as if trying to swat away the bullets.
“I’m trying to help.”
He pushed to his feet, and she could see blood soaking the front of his shirt. Three parallel cuts had torn it to shreds, as well as scoring his skin beneath. “You’re just in the way.”
“Tell me what I can do to kill it.”
“Nothing. We’re screwed.”
“I’m not letting it eat my baby. We need a plan.”
He fired again. The bullets weren’t breaking the skin, but they were keeping the thing pinned against the far wall as it batted at them like mosquitoes. “I had one, but it’s not working.”
“What was it?”
“Get it to eat the propane tank. Shoot the tank and make it explode in the thing’s mouth.”
“Do you think that would work?”
“Maybe. But it knows the tank’s not food, so it’s not going for it.”
It leaned forward from the wall, only to flinch back when Ryder’s gun fired again. Jordan didn’t know how many bullets he had in that gun, but they weren’t going to last long.
The monster ate people. Maybe if the tank smelled like people, it would eat it. At this point, anything was worth a shot.
Jordan took one of the small knives from the caddy and scored a line on her forearm. Blood welled up from the cut.
“What the fuck are you doing?” demanded Ryder.
She smeared her blood over the tank, painting it a grotesque red. “Up here we do a lot of fishing. You have to put scent on your bait to get the fish to bite.”
The Terraphage lumbered closer. Ryder fired again, only this time it didn’t back away. “Get back. I’ll see if it works.”
Jordan scurried back behind the counter. She grabbed a towel and tied it over the wound to slow the bleeding. She couldn’t see what was going on, but she could hear the gunshots and Ryder’s vile curses rising up every few seconds.
At least he was still alive to curse.
She pushed herself to her feet, hoping to take a peek, and a few feet away spied Ryder’s rifle lying on a pile of spilled coffee beans.
Jordan snatched it up. She was no marksman, but she knew the basics. Point and shoot. Just like a camera.
Ryder tossed the bloody tank at the monster. A snakelike tongue shot out and grabbed it, drawing it into the thing’s mouth.
Victory coursed through her. It had worked. The monster had taken the bait.
“Die, fucker,” growled Ryder as he fired his handgun at the tank.
The bullet pinged off harmlessly, not even denting it. There was no explosion, not even any flames.
Their plan had failed.
They were all going to die.
Shit! Now what was he going to do? That propane tank was supposed to explode like in the movies. Hell, if Hollywood was to be believed, all he should have had to do was throw a rock at the thing to get it to burst into flames.
But no. He couldn’t get that lucky.
The bloody tank rolled around in the Terraphage’s mouth as if it were sucking on a piece of candy. Its blistered tongue flickered over it, cleaning away every trace of blood. As distracted as it was by its treat, it wouldn’t be that way long.
It would either spit out the tank or swallow it, rendering it invulnerable inside the belly of the beast. Either way, Ryder was still screwed.
A huge boom exploded behind him. He turned around to see Jordan wielding the rifle.
“I can’t get a clear shot,” she shouted.
Most of the blood was gone. They had only a few seconds left. “Toss it here.”
She did. Ryder caught it and charged the Terraphage. The pale tank was barely visible now. It was going down the thing’s throat. He had time for only one shot. He stopped, aimed, and fired.
And missed.
The bullet tore into the soft pallet of the Terraphage’s mouth. It roared in pain. As its mouth opened, the tank fell to the floor, landing in a puddle of saliva.
His plan had failed. Anne was going to die despite his best efforts.
“Get out!” he yelled over his shoulder. “I’ll try to keep it distracted.”
Jordan didn’t ask questions. She sprinted for the kitchen.
Ryder reloaded the rifle, grabbed the propane tank, and propelled himself into the Terraphage’s open jaws.
Jordan raced back through the room with Anne just in time to see Ryder dive into the monster’s mouth. She had no idea what he was doing, but there wasn’t time to stop and figure it out.
All she cared about was that the door was clear, Anne was firmly in her arms, and they were getting the hell out of here.
She hurried outside, barely feeling the cold. She pushed Anne through the open door of the truck, scurried up onto the wet seat, and gunned the engine. It purred like a cat as she slid over the streets, heading out of town as fast as the tires could carry them.
Ryder was dead. All she could do now was make his sacrifice mean something by getting her baby out alive.
The Terraphage’s jaws clamped down hard, crushing Ryder. Something in his leg cracked and pain screamed up his spine, setting his brain on fire. For several precious seconds, all he could do was let the pain wash over him, consume him. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe, which was likely a blessing. The stench of decaying meat clinging between the thing’s teeth was overwhelming.
Finally, he pulled himself together enough to remember his task. He pointed the barrel of the rifle at the propane tank and fired.
He braced himself for the explosion, but none came.
The pressure around him changed, undulating as the Terraphage began to swallow him whole. He tried to hold on to the tank, but it was ripped from his fingers as it slid down the Terraphage’s throat first.
A hissing noise filled his ears. A sulfurous, rotting smell filled his nose. Gas. Either he’d managed to rupture the tank or the Terraphage’s powerful jaws had.
The dark, hot stench grew until Ryder was dizzy from holding his breath. When he could no longer stand it, he tried to pull in some air, only to find that his nose and mouth had been mashed against the Terraphage’s flesh, cutting off any available oxygen. His shoulder and hip joints popped and burned as the pressure around his body increased. Hot, wet muscles shoved him back toward its throat. He tried to fight it, but he was no match for this kind of power. He was along for the ride. The best he could hope for now was to get one quick shot off to ignite the gas in the Terraphage�
�s belly, killing himself so he didn’t have to burn to death in its stomach acid.
Lights winked behind his eyelids from lack of oxygen. He was running out of time fast. His hand still gripped the rifle. His arm was going numb, and he had no hope of moving it within the muscular confines of the Terraphage’s mouth, but he thought he could move his finger enough to pull the trigger. All he had to do was wait until he was on his way down its gullet before he fired. Anything sooner and the muzzle flash wouldn’t ignite the gas.
Dozens of serrated teeth dug into his leg. Hot, sharp pain streaked up his spine. He felt something crack more than he heard it, and another wave of agony washed over him. An involuntary scream exploded inside him, but he couldn’t pull in enough breath to let it out. The silent scream coursed through his chest, sapping him of what little strength remained.
Dizziness slid over him, threatening to steal his consciousness. His muscles grew weak and began to tremble from lack of oxygen. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He had to do this now.
As the Terraphage swallowed him, his arms slid down its throat first. He tried to pull the trigger, but it was coated with saliva and who knew what else. His finger slipped off. He tried again.
Numbness vibrated through him. Blackness closed down around him until even the twinkling stars in his vision disappeared. His strength faded, making even the small movement of one finger difficult.
Ryder gritted his teeth and focused all his concentration on that one little digit. His finger twitched. The rifle bucked in his grip.
He didn’t hear the explosion, but he felt it. Pressure slammed into him like a giant fist. The heat seared his hands and face. He became weightless for a brief instant before he hit something hard. Pain engulfed him, and he could no longer fight its pull. He let go and let the numbing blackness swallow him whole.
Ryder woke up to the feel of a little hand squeezing his. He cracked one eye open and hissed at the brightness of the light surrounding him.
“He’s awake, Mama.”
Anne. That was Anne talking. He’d know that sweet voice anywhere.