Page 26 of Heir of Ashes

“What the hell is that?” I squeaked.

I dove to the left, Logan to the right. We both dodged the glowing hand inches before it reached us, though Logan had to dodge the other figure as it swiped at him.

“Watch out!” I shouted as a skeletal hand almost smashed into Logan’s skull. It was pure reflex since Logan was keeping both in his sight now.

The one closest to me adjusted course and reached for me. Logan fired again, and again the bullet went through. I used the only weapon I had. My fingers jerked, changing into the sharp, scalpel-like talons I had learned to use so well during my years as a captive. My talons, unlike those from certain animals, had a flexibility to them, and were the size and length of my fingers. As the glowing hand came down, I struck, but unlike Logan’s bullets, my talons connected. The figure howled in pain—or anger. I realized it was the first sound it had made since it had appeared. The howl died when the figure burst into a brilliant flash of light, and I had to blink the spots from my vision. By the time I could see clearly, the figure had dematerialized into mist, and even as I watched, it was forming again. The howl resumed as if it had never faltered—and it was a definite snarl of anger. All I had managed to do as it reformed was piss the thing off. My heart drummed with fear and adrenaline, making me short of breath.

“We have to get out of here!” Logan shouted, jumping onto the bed, grabbing the keys and laptop by the nightstand.

I narrowly avoided a blow to my head, diving for the bed and the journal under the pillow. Our advantage was that we were faster than them. My duffel bag was by the nightstand, my purse already inside. I picked it up and flung it behind my back. By ordinary standards, it was heavy, approximately fifty pounds, but I carried it like it weighed only five. Logan jumped to my side, and we both evaded the second figure, opened the door and ran barefoot to the Range Rover parked a few yards ahead.

“We’re lucky they’re slow!” The words had barely left my mouth when both figures materialized right in front of us.

Logan grabbed my arm to keep me from colliding with a glowing hand, but my other arm kept arcing forward, following momentum. I pulled it back just before it hit the figure and lowered my head, evading the hand that was trying to flatten it to the ground. Was it my imagination, or had it moved faster than before? There was total silence surrounding the figures, a vacuum of sound that kept me off balance.

One figure lunged at me, and I reacted without thinking, jerking my hand up and hitting the glowing hand, connecting right at the edge of the plates where the glowing ended and its wrist began. The impact sent a jolt of icy pain up my arm, numbing it to my shoulder. The glowing hand flew off and disintegrated into the air.

The figure let out a piercing shriek, bursting into blinding light before reforming, its eyes glowing demonic red. Its hand did not reform. But the other hand was still there, and its left foot was now glowing. It had definitely gained speed, confirming my previous suspicion.

I dropped the duffel and avoided the kick to my head, but I wasn’t fast enough, and it connected with my left shoulder. There was a sickening pop as I spun with the force and almost fell flat.

Beside me, Logan wasn’t faring any better. Dimly, I heard him shout something and hurry away, drawing one of the figures after him. I looked up in time to see the one-handed figure following … almost in a blur! No wonder I couldn’t dodge the foot in time.

By now, other people, guests in the motel, were coming out to see what the commotion was all about. A crash came from inside the motel room, followed by a shrill scream. Logan had hit it. Someone warned they had called the police, but I couldn’t see how the police would be of any help. God, there were children in the motel. There was another loud crash from the room seconds before Logan came running out. The skeletal hand of the figure in front of me glowed, reaching for me, and I kicked it, knowing that it would only make it faster and angrier. But my arm was still numb, my left shoulder hurt like hell, and the few seconds I’d get would be better than none at all.

Logan approached fast, as if the devil was behind him. Or maybe just its minion. Almost upon him was the one-handed figure. Its plates, which previously looked dull, now shone as if polished, making clinking noises as it moved. As they neared, I registered that Logan was clutching something in his fist. His eyes never wavered from the slower figure materializing beside me, as if he was oblivious to the threat at his back.

Everything after that was a blur. The figure behind Logan jumped to attack him, one hand outstretched in a forward claw, its figure, plates and all, emanating that soft glow. I opened my mouth to shout a warning, and time stopped as I tried to suck in enough air. The figure in front of me fully reformed, moving with renewed speed, zeroing in on Logan as the greater threat. It lunged for Logan, the other skeletal figure descending ever closer to his back.

Logan thrust his hand forward, and white powder sprayed all over the obscured face of the second figure, causing itto suddenly start glowing. Even the plates shone, making it seem like it had previously been just a washed-out version of itself. Then he shifted direction, tackling me back to the ground and rolling us away just as the two figures collided. There was that blinding flash of light, followed by an ear-piercing shriek. Pain seared through my shoulder, leaving me blind, deaf, and gasping in agony. Logan shielded me with his body from the worst of the explosive supernova, but all I could see was the endless white.

Then he took hold of my shoulders, his hand like hot iron on an open wound when it touched my left side. When he shook me, the world went bright yellow, then tunneled down to a pinprick. I hissed through clenched teeth, and he let go, noticing the unnatural angle of my shoulder. He said something, but I could hardly hear, much less read his blurry lips. He grabbed my forearm and shoulder and waited.

“What?” I managed to ask before he jerked my shoulder back into place.

***

Once Logan had fashioned a makeshift sling for my arm, we peeled away from the motel in a hurry. My vision was a bit hazy, and I was still partially deaf from the sensory explosion.

Logan was talking on his cellphone, looking in a much better functioning state than I was. Morning was starting to break and the sky had that beautiful orange and pink tinge mixed with a streak of gray and blue. Snatches of Logan’s conversation filtered through, but the pieces I grasped made little sense to me, except for the fact that he was talking about the attack.

“ … Two of them, no … I don’t know … to check and … Douglas … this kind of activity … focused on us both … Yeah.” He glanced at me, then said hurriedly, “See you later.” And hung up.

“Who was that?” I asked, struggling to pull on my boots. The worst of the numbness was gone from my right arm, andalthough pinpricks still stabbed at my fingertips, I no longer winced at the prickling pain. My voice still sounded tiny and distant to my ears.

“Someone who’ll make sure a damage-control team gets to the scene.”

“Huh? Did I hear that right? What are they going to tell all those people?”

Logan shrugged. “I don’t know. Whatever it takes. I presume they’ll make some calls, get others to come, and make sure these people get a logical explanation.”

“What can they possibly tell them?” I wondered in astonishment.

“Whatever they see fit. That’s their job, and they have experience dealing with this kind of situation. Besides, even if someone doesn’t believe them and goes around blathering about it, few will listen.”

“So what? Someone will come and tell everyone they didn’t really see what they actually saw and expect everyone to believe them?” I was incredulous.

“Exactly.” He paused a moment before adding, “You know, it’s people who stick to what they saw that are actually the instigators of alien sightings, strange bursts of lights in the sky, and so on … not that they’re all false rumors anyway.” He glanced at me once. “It’s strange what a couple of words can do. Besides, people see whatever they want to see, believe whatever they want to believe. If you tell them they witnessed the set of a horror movie, they’ll believe it. It’s better—easier—than the alternative.”

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