Part 10 (2/2)

Rusty was shaking so hard that his own gun nearly slipped from his fingers.

Roy's lips pulled back into a grin. He could smell another acidic stench; that of urine which had no doubt suddenly voided from Rusty's bladder.

Roy lifted the gun from Rusty's face. He had done the trick. ”You know...I'd be careful on these slick floors...I might just slip again.” The gun came back down to sight on Rusty's pale, wet forehead.

Rusty backed up, his body trembling. ”No...don't...”

Roy's finger twitched. A slight tug and all his problems would vanish in a cloud of smoke and blood.

His finger tightened on the trigger. Rusty screamed.

Roy jerked the gun back and laughed. Oh, to feel the power, to feel others grovel at his knees in fright!

He looked at Rusty, laughing. ”You miserable sack of s.h.i.+t.”

And then, the noise again...

Click, click!

Rusty's shriek caused Roy to jump back and nearly trip over the dead man. His heart leaped into his chest and his adrenaline spurned. He gained his balance, tightened his grip on the gun and moved forward. He stabbed his light toward Rusty where the sound came from. ”G.o.ddammit, what the h.e.l.l is going on-”

He stopped, nearly tripping over them. At Rusty's feet were two huge red scorpion-like creatures with their pincers tearing away chunks of flesh out of the deputy's leg. The things were busy stuffing the strips of meat and skin into their chitinous mouths as Rusty screamed at the top of his lungs.

Roy watched in horror, rooted to the spot as Rusty tried to scramble away only to fall to his knees in pain.

Rusty looked down at the creatures. He lifted the .38 and pointed it at one of the creatures' backs. The slug shattered the crustacean's sh.e.l.l and exploded its insides. It twitched and fell over on its back, its legs curling in like a dead spider.

The second creature dug its claws into Rusty's thigh and bit down hard. Blood spurted from the wound, drenching the creature. Rusty's eyes were wide in pain, his face slick with sweat and contorted with agony and what looked to Roy like anger. He stuck the barrel of the gun against the thing's sh.e.l.l between the eyestalks. He pulled the trigger and the sh.e.l.l ripped the creature apart. It grew still with its pincers still embedded in the deputy's leg.

Rusty's energy dissolved and a pall seemed to wash over him. He collapsed back against a layer of pipes and closed his eyes. He whimpered, his breath coming in short gasps. Roy still remained rooted to the spot. He couldn't believe what he just saw. It couldn't be a chemical leak now. It was something far beyond anything he could have ever dreamed.

Roy moved, felt warm moisture on his crotch and the inside of his legs. He had p.i.s.sed himself.

Ignoring his damp trousers, Roy s.h.i.+ned the flashlight on Rusty. The deputy opened his eyes, his breathing harsh and ragged. His leg was bleeding badly. His fingers were still locked on the gun.

Roy turned, checking the rest of the plant. The beam from his flashlight stabbed darkness. He couldn't see or hear anything out there. He turned back to Rusty who lifted his arm, pointed his gun at Roy, and fired.

There was a sear of pain through Roy's right thigh. The sheriff yelled and fell. The flashlight tumbled to the ground and spun, trailing flickering light along the walls. The reverberation of the shot echoed in the plant as Roy howled, eyes squeezed shut, his hands clamped over the wound. G.o.dd.a.m.n sonofab.i.t.c.h shot me!

The flashlight stopped spinning, it's light s.h.i.+ning back toward where they had come. The exit.

Roy began scampering toward a large row of machinery, dragging his lower body behind him just as another gunshot sounded. He felt it pinging right by him. He darted behind the object, groaning as he settled his weight on a portion of his injury. The G.o.dd.a.m.n motherf.u.c.ker is shooting at me! Who the f.u.c.k does he think he is?

A fresh wave of pain flowed through him as he raised his own gun, leveling it toward the ceiling. He was lucky he hadn't dropped it when Rusty shot him.

Click-click! Click, click, click, click...

The metal interior of the plant suddenly echoed with hundreds of sharp clicks. Roy's eyes darted around the plant, suddenly seeing shadows squirm and come alive. His vision barely made out deep red s.h.i.+ny sh.e.l.ls scurry about and multiply. A fish-like smell a.s.saulted his nasal pa.s.sages.

Gritting his teeth, Sheriff Conklin rose, his back rubbing against the cold metal of the shapeless piece of machinery. He hobbled toward the edge of the machinery, listening. Amid the clicking he could hear the scurrying and drag of Rusty trying to make his getaway. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Conklin emerged from behind the machine and hobbled toward where Rusty had been. The pain in his leg throbbed, but he could move it. He dimly made out Rusty's form hobbling toward the exit, limping on ravaged legs. Roy raised his gun and fired. The bullet hit Rusty's shoulder, jerking him forward, pus.h.i.+ng his body to the floor. He fell, the gun flying through the air to hit the ground. Roy grinned as he limped toward the fallen deputy.

Rusty turned over, making scrabbling motions to get away. His eyes grew wide as Roy limped forward, his gun smoking as it came up again, pointing at him. ”You stupid hick f.u.c.k. I'll send you straight to h.e.l.l.” He leveled the gun at Rusty's chest and was about to fire when he felt a sharp tug on his leg. He looked down.

One of the scorpion-like things was tugging at his pants with its large pincers. It pulled and the fabric ripped free, exposing his bare calf. Roy reacted instantly, swinging the gun barrel down and pulling the trigger. The shot blew the crustacean into chunky red and yellow sauce.

A barrage of clicking behind him brought six more making their way right toward him. Roy turned his head and saw that the fallen flashlight was pointing at the door the way they'd come in. He shot a glance at the wounded deputy and grinned. Rusty shuddered.

Roy smiled and limped quickly toward the exit. The pain from the gunshot wound hampered his movement, but Roy tried to will the pain away. He would get through this. He made a wide berth around Rusty, chuckling as he did so. He retrieved the fallen flashlight, cast one look back at Rusty. ”So long, motherf.u.c.ker.”

Then he left. Moving out the door and closing it behind him, leaving Rusty in the darkness of the power plant.

A moment later all that remained of Deputy Russell Hanks was his badge, gunbelt, and high school ring.

The crustaceans wandered through the pipes and machinery, searching for any last bits of edible matter. The vague sounds of a quickly retreating police cruiser barely registered in their primitive auditory ca.n.a.ls.

What did register was the presence of something else.

This sent a wave of panic through the creatures as they skittered and crawled into any dark crack or crevice they could find. Their primitive nervous system could register only a few sensations and this was one that they knew better than the others.

They knew it better than the urge to breed.

They knew it better than hunger.

They all felt the emotion as old as time itself.

Fear.

Chapter Thirteen.

Rick was leaning against the receptionist counter as Glen Jorgensen leaned over the transmitter. ”...Bangor General, please come in, Bangor General-”

Glen Jorgensen had been trying to reach Bangor General Hospital for the past fifteen minutes. This was the second attempt they'd made; the first had been close on the heels of when Janice and Bobby arrived at his office when it became apparent that Bobby's injuries were much worse than Glen thought. When he was met with static, he darted back into his examination room, barking at Barbara to a.s.sist him. Rick had waited in the comfy lobby as the physician worked on Bobby, wondering how the boy was, how Janice was making out through all this. He wanted to be back there to offer some comfort, some support, but he knew he would be hindering whatever Dr. Jorgensen had to do. So he sat in the lobby.

Glen Jorgensen emerged thirty minutes later looking tired and drained. He had worked on Bobby himself, suturing what remained of his finger, splinting and bandaging his hand. Between the time Sheriff Roy Conklin left and Glen began working on Bobby, the storm had grown stronger. Rain pelted the roof and came down in sheets, billowed by the howling wind. When Glen emerged from the examination room he hardly noticed the weather outside; he went straight back to the transmitter and tried again.

It was at this point that Rick got up and sidled up to the reception area. Glen noticed him and nodded. ”I gave both of them a mild sedative. They're resting in the room down at the end of the hall if you want to see them.”

Rick nodded and walked down, limping slightly from the bandaged wound on his right leg. Barbara was emerging from the room when he approached it. Her features were strained with worry. ”You can see them, but not for long. They both need rest.”

”How is he?”

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