Star Road (22 page)

Sometimes,
he thought,
you get exactly what you wish for.

He dropped to one knee and, with the warrows closing in, sucked in a deep breath, took careful aim at a spot between the eyes of the lead beast, and squeezed the trigger.

As a black fountain of blood and brains exploded into the air, he had already taken two more shots.

~ * ~

Annie backed up and bumped into Jordan, their backs touching,
almost,
she thought,
as if we’re one person.

So far, Annie and Jordan, backed by Nahara and Rodriguez, had been able to keep the creatures at bay.

But for how long?

But next to Jordan stood Rodriguez, who Annie could actually hear whimpering, moaning between the steady
thump
of the pulse blasts and the howling yelps of wounded warrows.

She didn’t take a moment to look down at her gun to see how charged it was.

It wasn’t a damn assault weapon. Not designed for a goddamned standoff.

At least Nahara—next to her—seemed to be taking some kind of aim and shooting with a reasonable degree of accuracy.

But then one warrow leaped in close and swiped at Nahara’s gun hand. His pulse gun flew from his grip as Jordan blew the creature’s face into a bloody mess.

“Shit,” Nahara said.

Right,
thought Annie.
Shit, indeed.

Nahara responded by pressing himself tighter against the defenders, now with only two reliable shooters and Nahara, unarmed and exposed.

Fruit ripe for the plucking.

The steady punching sound of a pulse gun filled the air.

There were more blasts coming from somewhere down below ... louder sounds, too.

Not some puny pea shooter, not the handguns they had, but something much more powerful.

More warrow screams echoed from down below. Wild snarls and thrashing sounds.

Is this the cavalry arriving?

Someone helping them. Someone who survived the initial onslaught? A security guard who had maybe been in hiding and who had come out now and was going to save them from this massacre?

A nearby warrow swung its head toward her. Mouth wide. Teeth gleaming as it went for her arm.

But Annie was able to tilt the gun in time so those jagged teeth met her gun barrel—and in that contact, with her finger pulling back on the trigger, the beast’s head disappeared.

Buying seconds.

Any real hope, she knew, was riding on their savior, down below.

~ * ~

The last of the charging warrows fell inches away from Ivan, like a longdistance runner who simply couldn’t go the distance.

No time to examine the things, since he could still see huge, dark shapes bobbing up and down on the balcony.

He lowered the gun, and bolted.

He made his way through the piles of bodies, most of them dead, but a few were writhing on the ground, some trying to turn their heads and catch him in their jaws as he raced by and up the escalator.

To the top of the stairs.

To see the four people from the SRV.

And even as his gun came up, he wondered if he was in time to save them, because the creatures had them surrounded and were closing in, their jaws wide ... hungry for flesh and blood.

~ * ~

Annie saw him through a break in the circle of creatures.

Gage.

Gun up.

Shooting.

A surge of hope, but at the same time wondering:
How the hell did he get here... with a gun?

Only seconds ago, she had accepted the hopelessness—the simple, dark, grim fact of their impending death.

Now ... suddenly things looked different.

But in that hopeful moment, one of the creatures leaped forward and pulled Nahara out of the protective huddle.

Its claws closed on the man’s midsection.

Nahara’s trapped body swiveled, his eyes wide, turning. His mouth was open; he was screaming, but no sound came out.

He was being dragged away to where the warrows could feast in private.

Annie spotted other beasts crouched down low, avoiding the gunfire and creeping up on them, using whatever cover they could find.

But—a decision—she used her next shot to drill a smoking hole through the throat of the warrow that was about to eat Nahara.

Its traplike jaws didn’t let him go.

Maybe a reflex action, an instantaneous rigor mortis that kept the man held in its grip.

Only then did Annie turn to shoot at the closest warrow who was crawling toward her.

She turned, almost too late.

This time, her gun wasn’t coming up fast enough. She thought for sure she was dead.

Which is when she heard another one of those cannonading blasts, and the creature fell, sprawling on the floor, inches from Annie.

Gage’s blast had taken it down, and behind her she heard Jordan shooting. Rodriguez kept making noises.

But ahead, Gage said—
yelled
—over the mayhem: “You gotta move...
now!”

Between him and Jordan, the rest of the pack was either dead or dying. Savage snarls and howls filled the air.

Seeing a break, Annie hurried over to Nahara, freeing him from the clamped jaws and hearing Jordan right there behind her.

“Let me help.”

Gage stood there, gun up, scouring the area, firing at anything that moved. Then, quickly, he waved them over to the dead escalator and down through the piles of warrow bodies to the floor below.

~ * ~

22

GETTING OUT

Ivan stayed back until the
others started down the gore-drenched staircase. The carnage was terrible.

But Jordan ran up beside him.

“We’ll give them cover,” Jordan said.

“You got it,” Ivan said with a nod.

And then they, too, went down the slippery staircase, turning and pausing as they did. The corridor was empty but not silent. Whimpering and guttural growls filled the air, and Ivan was tensed—ready for one or more of the wounded creatures to suddenly leap at him.

Like Jordan, Ivan looked all around the empty room below for any signs of more creatures.

Is that it? The entire pack is wiped out?

The only survivors were the handful they had left behind on the balcony, intelligent enough to be cautious after all this carnage.

And how soon before they regroup and come after us?

Some may have started nibbling at their fallen companions ... perhaps deciding that the tasty humans were simply too much trouble.

But as he neared the bottom of the stairs, Ivan saw that wasn’t true of all the warrows. A few big ones began leaping—covering two or three steps at a time—as they came down the stairs, racing toward them.

“Fuck,” Jordan said.

Then the gunner turned to the others.

“Run! Fast as you can! Get the hell back to the SRV!”

Jordan glanced at Ivan.

The look, the message was clear.

It’s you and me, pal. Let’s see how much more you got.

Bringing up the fucking rear.

They started firing, Jordan lethal with his small handgun. Ivan used his bigger gun with devastating effectiveness on the warrows that chased after them.

And all the time they ran backward, taking care not to trip over any of the bodies—human or warrow—that littered the floor.

A slip, a fall, and those seconds on the ground could mean the difference between life and death.

And all the time, he saw Jordan watching ... waiting to open fire again.

“Charge low?” Ivan called to him.

A nod. Nothing more.

The others—Annie, the doctor, and the station manager—had reached the main doors and were hurrying outside.

Are there more creatures out there, waiting to clean up?

Then, when he and Jordan were almost at the door, the safety of the SRV only a minute or two away, Jordan nodded to the left and said: “Over there.”

A gesture, Jordan’s free hand came up and pointed.

More warrows were coming down the corridor to the left, joining forces with the survivors from the battle on the balcony who were spilling down the escalator.

Jordan glanced at Ivan, then to the door leading outside.

The others... how far had they gotten?

All the way back to the SRV?

Ivan hoped so. Maybe they had bought them enough time.

“We gotta go for it,” Jordan said.

Now, instead of a slow, backward move mixed with gunfire—having given the others a gift of protective fire—Ivan followed Jordan, turned, and started running full out for the open door ahead.

He was about to see if he and Jordan—and the others—had what it took to outrun the animals chasing them.

Ivan was thinking:
About as primal a moment as the universe can deliver.

~ * ~

Sinjira stood by the closed hatch, peering out through the small portal.

Annie and the others—most of them, anyway—were running across the tarmac, heading back to the SRV The thin blue sunlight threw their nearly invisible shadows on the ground.

They were moving fast.

But where was Jordan ... and Gage?

Sinjira unlatched the door and started to push it open.

“What—what are you doing?” Ruth asked.

Sinjira turned on her.

“Opening ... the god ... damn ... door.”

Ruth looked out her porthole, then to Sinjira. Her face was twisted.

Fear will do that,
Sinjira thought.
Take those soft, smooth curves, and turn them into a grim mask.

“They’re n-not here yet! Wait.”

Yeah, right,
Sinjira thought, choosing not to listen to her.

Whatever they were running from had to be close behind.

No time for them to wait outside while the door opened.

She hit the controls on the door; a message on the display asked for confirmation as it ran a quick atmosphere and pressure check.

Another touch, and the door popped open, swinging outward just as the captain, Nahara, and Rodriguez raced up the staircase. Tears and sweat streaked Rodriguez’s face, and Nahara was bleeding. His jacket was stained with blood.

Into the SRV

Rodriguez out of his mind, the only one to speak.

“Close it! They’re coming!”

Annie led Nahara over to a seat—the one McGowan had been sitting in. He was obviously hurt. Then she looked out the open door.

Thinking:
The crazy scientist might be right.

~ * ~

When Annie settled Nahara into a chair, he let out a loud groan as his head slumped down onto his chest.

Annie hurried to the hatch, her gun ready—and saw the situation. Jordan and Gage were running hell for leather to the vehicle. She wasn’t sure if she should risk a shot or two at the pursuing beasts.

Five... no, six warrows were racing toward them, quickly closing the distance with their long, leaping bounds. Jordan and Gage didn’t slow down to aim and shoot. They sent off a few wild shots over their shoulders, but all went wild, scoring the tarmac and taking out a few windows in the terminal.

Judging the angle of fire, Annie could see that the warrows were too close for her to try to pick off one or two.

Come on,
she thought.

“Run, you bastards!”

Not knowing if they could outrun those things or not.

Still, she could try to divert the creatures.

Aiming carefully, she fired to one side and then the other of the runners. Each blast scorched the ground and took out huge chunks of tarmac, but the warrows kept coming.

In the open doorway, Annie watched, her chest aching from not breathing.

The beasts were closing the gap ...

Thirty yards ... twenty ... fifteen.

Until the two men were close enough, and she had enough elevation to shoot over their heads.

And then they were at the bottom of the stairs ... and up ... and in.

She slammed the door shut behind them and threw the bolts.

She turned to them. “What do you say we—”

She stopped talking when something—the lead warrow—slammed into the side of the vehicle. It sounded loud enough to rock it, and Ruth let out a squeal of fright.

Annie knew they were safe. There was no way the creatures could tear through the shell of the SRV. They were safe, and she was smiling with relief as she turned to Jordan.

He had gone straight over to where Rodriguez sat, panting heavily and bathed with sweat, and grabbed him by the shirt. He screwed up a handful of fabric and all but lifted him out of his seat.