Diana surveyed the skies. "Come on, Zurzay," she said. "You heard the shots. Come back." The winged-wolf was her last ace – really, her only ace – in the hole. She wouldn't be leaving this tree without him. Not under her own power, anyway.
A softball-sized rock landed on her left thigh, sending seismic shocks of pain up her leg. It hadn't been a direct strike – she could only imagine being on the receiving end of one of their long-limbed throws which might easily exceed major league pitcher speeds – but it hurt like a son of a bitch. If that had been her head...
She was tempted to start "spraying and praying" at their ground cover, but her ammunition was far from unlimited. Her best chance was to stay cool and hold on as long as possible until – one of these days – Zurzay returned.
Then the winged-wolf was there: rifling down from on high for one of his HALO – high altitude, low opening – landings, snapping his wings out at the last instant, hitting the nest hard enough to shake the tree. He squatted, grabbing her arm to hoist her onto his back while rocks rained down on them and Diana hastily slung the rifle over one shoulder. They launched out over the meadow.
She assumed Zurzay would execute a slow turn to the northwest toward home but they flew straight across the meadow toward the forest on the opposite side. The power and pace of his wing-beats was Diana's first clue that Zurzay had something in mind other than retreat. Passing over the cylindrical landing craft confirmed her suspicions.
"What are you doing?" she shouted over his shoulder. He twisted his head enough to give her what she interpreted as a "What do you think?" stare.
Oh, God, he's planning to rescue them? The only sense she could make of what he was doing was taking advantage of what might be the bulk of the Nazrene pack gathering around their tree, which implied that the Jensens would be lightly guarded. So Zurzay had enough strategic grasp of the situation – something she hadn't thought of until just this moment – to conceive of a surgical strike: get in there quickly, overpower or kill whoever was at the camp, and rescue Sonja and her two children? That was awfully hard to believe, but she couldn't think of a better interpretation of his actions.
"So what happens if we do kill their guards, Zurzay?" she asked, not knowing if he could hear her over the rush of the wind and doubting it made any difference if he did. "You can't fly us all out of here, and there's no way they can outrun the Nazrene..."
But then, as Penny had pointed out, she did have three guns. Sonja and her daughter did know how to shoot. And they had Zurzay, who was a one-wolf wrecking crew when it came to the baboons. If they found the right place to take a stand...at the very least the Nazrene would suffer terrible loses if their crazed obsession with these people persisted. Maybe he could fly them to a safe place one at a time while the remaining ones held them off? The whole crazy notion made a "wing and a prayer" seem like practical planning.
They were soaring over the edge of the woods on the far side of the meadow. Diana couldn't make out many details below through the canopy.
"Sonja! Laurie! Donny!" she shouted as loud as she could. "It's Diana! Yell to tell me where you are!"
"We're here!"
Sonja's voice. Diana glimpsed some dark bodies moving through the trees along a stone-strewn, open slope rising a few hundred meters to a rock formation.
"We can see you – "
Sonja's voice cut out. Someone appeared to be struggling near the edge of the woods maybe fifty yards from them.
"It's okay," Diana yelled. "We know where you are. Don't do anything to provoke them! We're coming!"
Zurzay was descending toward the edge of the slope. Chills of anticipation galvanized Diana. They were doing it. Rescue. Exactly what she'd wanted desperately to avoid. What Dan had cautioned her not to do. C'est la fucking vie.
They dropped down on the edge of the clear slope nearest the last Jensen sighting. Diana slid off his back and they started toward woods, Zurzay in the lead, both slipping in the loose gravel. Time was short: they had to separate the Jensens from whoever was holding them quickly or face the deluge of baboons now racing back across the meadow behind them.
Someone – the boy? – cried out. She could hear thrashing through the brush sixty or seventy feet ahead. She and Zurzay emerged onto another rocky, open slope populated by scraggly saplings.
"This isn't going to work," she growled at Zurzay. "I can't run fast enough to catch up with them. You need to go ahead by air and track them down."
Zurzay surprised her by leaping high and spreading his wings as if he'd understood her. After a few hard beats, he plummeted into the woods sixty or seventy meters ahead.
Diana was daring to believe they actually had some minuscule chance of success when a rock struck her shoulder from behind. She stumbled forward, feeling as if she'd been hit by a shot put ball. More rocks followed, some whizzing past, others striking her backpack and thigh. She dropped to the gravel, fiery pain roaring up her leg and shoulder, and swung her AR around. Pop! Pop! Pop! The rounds whistled through the brush and trees. She half-slid, half-fell in behind a small tree, facing the direction of the flying stones. No clue whether they were the vanguard of the Nazrene from the meadow or some reserve force that had been lying in waiting.
Another rock smacked the gravel in front of her face. Diana ducked behind the tree, popping off a few more rounds into the woods. A roaring yodel twisted her head to see Zurzay rising out of the woods like a lupine Jack in the Box – a snarling, clawing Nazrene attached to one leg. Zurzay spun in the air and kicked him off. The Nazrene sailed through the air, landing on his feet in an explosion of dust and gravel about fifteen feet from Diana. The baboon looked as startled to be there as she was having it there. Thanks a lot, Zurzay.
Diana raised her rifle and squeezed off a shot – and it was on her, ripping the rifle from her hands as she fell on her back. She reached for her pistol. The Nazrene's fist descended. She wriggled sideways and his fist buried itself in the gravel beside her head. The pistol was in her hand. The creature pinned her wrist to the gravel with bone-crushing force. Diana looked up into the gleaming red eyes. My last sight in this world.
But over the ape's shoulder, a broad-winged shadow was forming, growing –
The Nazrene released her wrist and turned an instant before two sets of grizzly-sized claws closed around the back of his neck and dragged him away, crushing its face into the rocky soil. Zurzay reached down and grasped the Nazrene's head, and with an air of casual deliberation yanked upward. A sound like dry wood splintering crossed the small clearing.
Diana pushed to her feet, gritting her teeth as pain cascading down her left shoulder joined with a geyser of agony rising from her double-bruised left thigh.
Zurzay stooped, and Diana was happy to climb on. They rose up over the forest moments before a horde of Nazrene rolled into the nearest clearing. Several tossed spears. Most fell short or missed their mark, but one thunked into Zurzay's midsection which drew a harsh grunt from the wolf and a sharp intake of breath from Diana. She felt the bunching muscles in his shoulders as he wrenched the spear out and dropped it in the trees below. She couldn't tell exactly where it had hit or how deeply, but aside from a momentary wobble in his flight his wings resumed a powerful beating that propelled them clear of the woods. Diana recognized the leader staring after them from the jagged line of missing fur on his forehead. He was gesturing furiously to his pack when he slipped from view.
"Asshole," she whispered back at him.
Just beyond the forest, they began to lose altitude. She wanted to believe her winged friend had a strategy in mind but the most likely explanation was that the spear injury was taking its toll. If the Nazrene suspected his weakness, they would come after them. And she had little doubt they suspected.
They coasted down toward the alien cylinder. It made sense. The thing was forty to fifty feet high, all curved and slick surfaces. She guessed that even the baboons would struggle to reach its top, if they actually could. And it was surrounded by open m
eadow. She could pick off anyone approaching the landing craft.
They landed with less than Zurzay's usual aplomb. Diana had to scramble free as he stumbled forward on landing, his claws scraping the metallic surface. With one eye on the forest, Diana limped around in front of him. She spotted a patch of blood in his right lower abdomen. He was hunched over, his orange eyes slowly blinking in a fixed stare. Diana had the impression he was taking an internal inventory.
Diana considered what to do. Her first thought was that the landing ship might have supplies inside. What else could the baboons have been carrying out? But she had no way of getting down and back up without Zurzay's help, and he didn't appear to be any state to offer her that at the moment.
Her next thought was the Nazrene, who had gathered at the forest's edge maybe a half-mile distant. So far, they hadn't ventured out into the meadow. They probably understood how vulnerable they'd be to her weapons out there. And if they were that smart, they might also understand how vulnerable she and Zurzay would be come nightfall.
Zurzay perked up abruptly, issuing a rumbling growl and rising out of his crouch to gaze over the north side of the cylinder. Diana raised her rifle and edged cautiously toward the point of no return where the curve of the landing craft would start her on a downward slide.
A young, shirtless athletic-looking man in shorts stood waving up at them with a cheerful smile, a Nazrene-type wood spear in one hand and a large knife hanging beside a leather pouch on his waist. A red-skinned young man. The gears in Diana's head turned a few rounds before clicking on a tentative identification: Gary Hanson?
"Howdy!" he called.
Diana lowered her rifle a few inches but did not move it out of line with him.
"Hello," she said.
"I heard the gunshots."
"What are you doing out here?"
"Same thing as you, I 'spect. Looking to rescue the damsels plus faggot in distress. Been following them since the filthy monkeys took 'em."
Diana nodded as the picture fell into place. "You're Gary Hanson?"
"Yup." He peered at them for a moment. "You're from Glenwald, right? I've seen the bear with wings flying around that area, 'specially the Jensens' place. You're one of those staying there?"
"Yes. I was there when you ran out of the house after murdering and cannibalizing your sister, though we didn't meet."
"Yeah." The boy grinned at her. "Sorry I missed meeting you."
"That's what you're sorry about?"
Gary affected a sad expression. "Oh, right, 'course I'm sorry about how things turned out with my sister. I wasn't exactly in my right mind when I woke up, you know?"
"Are you now?"
"Seems so to me. Look, you gotta understand something. My family..." He circled a forefinger around his temple. "They were a little out there, if you know what I mean."
"I'm not sure I do."
"I mean they were against vaccines, fluoride in the water, public schools, and thought the government was out to get them." The youth rolled his eyes. "You know the type. Had to fight my mom even go to high school and play ball. Almost happy to be free of 'em if I'm being honest."
"And you think that excuses you for killing your sister?"
"Didn't say that." He started to scowl, but papered it over with a bland smile. "My point is that we were raised in a crazy house, and when I got sick with whatever was in the air, some of that nuttiness came out. Temporarily."
Diana glanced at the woods. The Nazrene were still there, watching them, their bodies stiff with coiled tension. Surrounded by monsters, she thought.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Diana."
"Pretty name." He winked at her. "For a pretty lady."
Was he actually flirting with her? Under these circumstances? Clearly, the elevator didn't go all the way to the top floor with this kid.
"Aren't the Nazrene aware that you've been following them?"
"Yup. They tried chasing me down a couple times but the ape bastards can't catch me, so they mostly just ignore me now. Been waiting for my chance to sneak up on them and free the Jensens, but couldn't see a way to make that work. But now that you're here with your guns and the flying bear..." He paused, frowning as if suddenly remembering something. "How the heck did you two become friends anyhow?"
"That..." Diana shrugged. "Could take a while to explain."
"Well, the important thing is we can do something against the monkeys now." He paused to check out the nearby woods and their watchers. "Looks like you already did something to rile 'em up. You kill many?"
"A few. Not enough."
"But working together, I bet we can kick some monkey ass."
Diana felt a small prick of hope. "Do you have experience with firearms?"
"Uh, no." His smile dampened. "Never got into guns. Checked out a couple at a farmhouse after I woke up but couldn't hardly tell one end from the other. Better off with old Betsy and Barney here." He patted his wooden spear and knife. "Picked up the spear after one of the apes tossed it at me. Been practicing. I can hit things pretty good not too far away. Tip doesn't break or anything. Hardened with fire. Them monkeys love their fires. And in close my Bowie is a mean sumbitch." He slipped out a knife that to Diana looked more like a machete. "Ran it through a deer the other day. Like a hot knife through butter."
Diana stared at him, deciding no comment might be the best tactic. She found it almost impossible to take the youth seriously. The Adderall had obviously affected his mind, but he was an imposing specimen at six-two or three and was built like the star athlete she'd heard he was. He'd been a football commit to Georgetown, according to the Glenwald Star. The kid was, or had been, the real deal. And that was before. Now, he could outrun the baboons, which she was fairly sure no human being could accomplish. Maybe Penny, but then they were cut from the same cloth.
"How come you know so much about guns?" Gary asked. "Were you a hunter?"
"No."
"Ex-Military?"
"Not exactly." Diana wondered whether it would be worthwhile to tell the boy something that might earn some respect – maybe even a dose of healthy fear – and satisfy his curiosity at the same time. She decided it was. "I was a CIA field agent."
"Like a spy?"
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." She gave him a chilly smile.
"Ha. Right." His answering smile was uncertain.
"On another subject," said Diana, "would you say you're much stronger than before?"
"Oh, yeah – hella stronger. Shit, I figure I can run close to forty miles an hour, maybe more, and my vertical's off the charts. Got no clue how much I can bench now. The old me could get 275 on a good day. Bet I could press that much with one arm now!"
As if, Diana thought, eating your sister and losing your family and the whole area and perhaps the whole world – plus being thrown back into the Dark Ages – was like winning the fucking lottery. Yet she couldn't help feeling impressed by his cluelessness. Having another "Redskin" on their side couldn't hurt. Unless he started getting a taste for human flesh again. But even so, his optimism didn't come close to infecting her. Thinking they could "kick some monkey ass" was completely delusional, and she wanted to go up against the Nazrene again approximately as much as she wanted root canal surgery without an anesthetic.
"My friend is injured," she said. "I'm not sure how badly. And I'm not feeling so great myself. Aside from being battered with rocks, I haven't had any water or food since yesterday afternoon."
"No problemo. The space ship's got both. And a whole bunch of other stuff."
"Really?"
"You betcha. You should come down and check it out. I'll keep an eye on the monkeys."
"I'd like to. Unfortunately, unlike you, my body can't stand a twenty or thirty-foot fall."
Gary held out his arms. "Don't worry. I'll catch ya."
"I think I'll pass on that."
"Okay." He thought for a moment. "There's rope in the ship. I'll toss some up and you c
an...uh...have Jeepers Creepers hold it."
"His name is Zurzay."
"Nice name. How'd you think of it?"
"I didn't. He told me."
As they spoke, Diana noted Zurzay's gaze shifting between them, his eyes glazing over. She hoped it was from boredom. Gary Hanson, on the other hand, seemed to be working through multiple layers of disbelief.
"That thing speaks?"
"Not often." Diana checked the edge of the forest. The Nazrene were no longer there. "I'll take you up on that rope offer."
"You got it."
The youth disappeared into the cylinder. Diana faced Zurzay, studying the wound in his abdomen for a few moments – it didn't appear to be bleeding much, anyway. Not much would be accomplished by her probing it, assuming the wolf would let her. She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze.
"Sorry I got you into this," she said.
Zurzay rumbled something and made a slicing gesture with one hand.
Diana sighed. "Whatever that means."
Gary tossed up a loop of rope that was unlike any rope or strap Diana had ever seen. It was slim but had a solid heft. No sign of any strands on its ends or length. She folded it a few times, but it wouldn't crimp. It might've been rubber but it had a rough, ropelike texture. She wondered why the "Keepers" had included it. But then that was just one of many questions she had regarding them.
Seeing nowhere to tie the rope, she extended an end to Zurzay. "Could you hold this while I climb down? I'm going to check out the landing craft."
His hands appeared to form knots of their own around the rope. Diana grabbed hold and backed herself down mountaineer-style, one aching foot at a time, her thigh and shoulders on the verge of cramping from the bruises and all the running. Zurzay, despite his injury, showed no sign of exerting any strength in holding her weight.
She dropped down on the grass and turned to face the boy. "Boy" didn't seem the right designation for the tall, sculpted shirtless youth who stood grinning down at her.
"You're tall," he said.
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