Page 56 of Sloth
Max pushed his body to the limit.
And then he heard it.
The panting, thudding, crashing of a creature, hot on their tails.
“I hear them,” he barked. “On our six.”
“Don’t shoot yet. Get further.”
Shit.
They jogged up hill until a few minutes in, more animals crashed—pounding paws, wet snarls and intake of breath—possibly the entire caged population.
A ghostly howl followed the answering whooping screech of a monkey.
He jumped over a fallen log and almost tripped in the dark. The smell of pine wafted as their boots broke needles underfoot. The stars and moon only cast light on so much, but his adrenaline-fueled body and mind gave him what he needed. Readying his rifle, he mentally cataloged escape routes. Bush everywhere. Plants. Trees. Cliff.
Kill-zone.
“Cliff,” he gasped. “We get stuck here, we’re done.”
Too late. They hit the rocky wall, turned their backs and aimed into the darkness. His heart pumped loudly in his ears and he tried to calm his steady breath. He strained his hearing to gauge impact.
“You ready?” Sloan breathed, aiming her bow.
He answered by lifting his rifle.
Impact.
Demon beasts breeched the darkness between the trees. At first, Max thought they got lucky and only a few animals approached, but the sounds of paws thundering through the bush kept coming. Yellow eyes glinted in the darkness. More were there… hunting them. He counted four more sets of eyes. The few that breached didn’t stop. They didn’t circle. They pounced.
Holding her bow but not shooting, Sloan gave a war cry. The three animals already mid air writhed and dropped in clear agony. Max fired at them. Sloan must have used her power, but it wasn’t enough. With stubborn determination, the fallen animals struggled to re-correct.
Then Max’s blood turned to ice. More animals arrived. One, two, four… he lost count.
Sloan released the string on her bow, bolt flying into the new beasts. She re-nocked, bolted, and sighted, firing again.
Max adjusted his aim.Fired. Shot after shot, they defended, but like the animal they’d faced in the city, these kept coming. Unfazed by flying projectiles, they were relentless. Soon, Max had run out of bullets and Sloan had depleted her quiver. All beasts were down but struggling to rise. He threw the rifle down, stripped his knife from his ankle holster and entered an attack stance.
“Put them to sleep instead,” he barked.
“What do you think I’ve been trying to do? I can’t focus. I’m too wired. Unpacking the boxes isn’t working.”
Out of nowhere, another black heavy shadow landed heavily on him. Max fell back, barely holding the beast’s snapping fangs from his face. Something warm and wet rushed down his hand. Blood. From the animal’s bowels. He’d stabbed it. The beast kept fighting. Teeth gnashing, claws scratching, all of it continued until, weakened by blood loss, it fell on top of him.
When he pushed it off, he found Sloan locked in battle with another. How many were there? More sounds crashing through the trees.Jesus Christ.More were coming! Hopelessness choked him. However did Parker think they’d be able to handle this many monsters?
He shoved his knife into the animal atop Sloan. Released. Black blood spurted. He turned for the next. “Come on!” he shouted. “Come get me!”
Soon, the clearing held a new shape. Pile after pile of black bodies mounted around them. The stench of fresh carcass swamped him until his body was covered in gore. Instinct rode his actions until Sloan’s voice pierced his battle haze. Dispatching the final beast, he found her at the rocky cliff.
“Climb.” Sloan panted and pointed up. “There’s a ledge up there.”
Following her gaze, he noticed the flat space she indicated about thirty feet away. Too hard to tell if the ledge would fit them both, but it might. More beasts were coming. Good enough. Height gave them an advantage.
Sloan heaved in a breath, locked her fingers together and created a step for him.
“No,” he said. “You first, Sloan. I’ll boost you.”
