Page 79 of Monsters within Men
Noah turned to find Splat—numerous coloured wires and all sorts wrapped around him, attached to his belt and spilling out of his pockets—pointing in the opposite direction to where they were facing. He ran over to Splat, whose grim gaze focussed on the surrounding countryside. Another horde, the same size as the other if not bigger, ran across a muddy field.
It was over.
They were all going to die.
Noah shook his head.
He remained motionless until Splat whacked him on the back of his helmet with his fist, hard. “Don’t do this to us now, Noah.”
“Forrest!”
Can everybody please stop saying my goddamned name?It’s not going to do you any good. I can’t save you.
But the cry came again, distinctly Zeke-sounding, and Noah found that his legs were sprinting over to him. Zeke waved his rifle, pressing down on an unmoving trigger—jammed—in Noah’s direction with wide eyes and shaking hands. Noah whacked it against the tiles of the roof. The same trick had worked once before. He tested it, unloading a round at the closest type—they’re so close now—thanking a god he didn’t believe in when it fired.
He thrust the rifle back into Zeke’s hand before ordering Meredith over to Splat’s side.
“Brace! First explosive in position, southwards. You’ve got five!” Splat cried.
Noah pulled Zeke and Frankie back from the edge. Two seconds later, a booming, deafening roar came from behind them, heat warming their backs. Both new recruits turned to look, but Noah slapped their arms, gesturing for them to continue firing, even through the wisps of smoke the bomb produced.
Beside him, Luo reached the end of his clip and paused to reload. Catching Noah’s eye, they shared a look that said,Is this really it? Here? Now?
Commotion behind him. Splat was back over to their side. The types were about a minute from breaching the perimeter. Splat dropped to his knees, programming his next explosive. “Ten seconds!” he shouted, launching the grenade off the roof, to the far side of the car park, into the thicket of the pulsing mass of types, now so close to the shutter gate they’d sliced open earlier.
A shockwave of power and heat pounded through the air. Zeke and Frankie dropped to their knees, their faces awestruck as they watched types hurtle across the concrete or become devoured by the inferno.
“I’m running out of kit, boss.” Splat broadcasted. “And I can’t build them fast enough. Can Zeke come help me for a second?”
Noah tapped Zeke’s shoulder and nudged him towards Splat.
The car park was ablaze now. Several vehicles burned ferociously, one causing another explosion as the fire tore through it. But through the carnage, a multitude of types remained. Some charged on towards them even while on fire, remnants of clothing or hair fuelling the flames as it blackened their skin.
Noah scanned the horizon for any sign of Vitt, Savannah and Habib, but there was no sign of them. Hopefully, they were safe.
Then something directly below them caught his eye. “They’re entering through the shutter gate!”
“Not all of them.” Meredith pointed her gun at the closest tree. “I just shot one down from there.”
As she spoke, two sets of scaly grey arms pulled up to a sturdy, high branch.
Before there was time to help Meredith dispatch them, Luo dragged him over to the opening in the roof, pointing wildly. “We need to kick the unit down else they’ll be up here before we know it!”
“Zeke has activated the third device. South. Five seconds!”
“Forrest, I don’t think we have many rounds left.”
“Forrest, what’s our next orders?”
More demands came flooding through, but Noah tuned them out. He pulled on a memory of Leo’s voice, back during the worst weeks of his life. The doctor’s calm voice told him:breathe in, breathe out.
He nodded at Luo, and together they kicked over the shelving unit they’d used to climb onto the roof. Several typeBs were already at the bottom, jumping out of the way as it crashed to the floor. Hungry eyes gazed up at them as the types snarled and spat. Then, to Noah’s horror, three of them began to push the unit back up. One of them—a bulging, fat creature—made a series of grunting noises, which attracted two typeAs to come and join in. The five monsters worked side-by-side, united in their mission.
He made to kick the shelf again as it lurched diagonally towards him, but it was too late. Two other typeAs were already scampering up it, throwing themselves onto the roof from the top of the metal structure far, far more easily than any of Noah’s human squad. Noah picked up his rifle and shot them in their heads.
Overlapping screams penetrated his eardrums—Frankie? Meredith?—as he turned to assess the rooftop. Gone was their height advantage—the space was now teeming with types. His soldiers shot bullet after bullet, not always hitting their marks.
“Spray their feet!” he ordered, desperate to turn the tide. The squad was seconds away from being overwhelmed; more and more types were climbing up through the hole, some were even scaling the outer walls. Their numbers were the greatest he’d ever seen. Where had they all come from?
