Book 2: Chapter 101: Enough (1/2)

”Right, that didn't work,” Dan stated. He kept pumping in Bartholomew's gas anyway, just in case. ”Plan B.”

He turned to the Coldwater commander. ”How much of that sticky ammo do you have?”

”Enough,” the mercenary replied flatly.

”If you can spare some of it for me, I want to try and drop a literal ton of it on Cannibal while he's stuck inside an enclosed space.”

Abby's eyes lit up. ”That might actually work! Or at least slow him down!”

Dan checked Cannibal's progress. He had officially crossed beneath the mansion's boundaries. If he went straight up, he'd be inside one of the kitchens. The foundations were reinforced, but Cannibal was very strong. It wouldn't hold him forever. Fortunately, he either didn't know, or didn't care. He continued his steady pace forward, all but swimming through the dirt.

”So where do you keep it?” Dan pressed. ”The armory?”

The Coldwater commander's helmet obscured most of his face. His lips and chin were barely visible and they were pressed together in a pinched expression.

”The special properties of our ammunition emerge from a chemical reaction,” he said, hesitantly. ”Lady Anastasia had it developed for specific use against enemies with high durability and strength. It was never designed to be a standalone substance.”

The commander paused his explanation and removed the magazine from his assault rifle. He racked the slide, caught the ejected round, and showed it to Abby. It looked like a normal bullet, but the tip was an inky black.

”You can't just remove the liquid,” the commander explained. ”It needs to be fired. We don't just have a barrel of it laying around somewhere.”

”Okay.” Dan tried not to curse. They didn't have time for this. Cannibal was inching ever closer. ”Plan C, then. Abby, get inside that panic room.”

The Summers' panic room was enormous. Capable of holding up to thirty people in relative comfort, it was essentially an entirely separate house, only underground, with two-foot thick walls surrounding it. Past eighteen inches of metal were another few layers of odd materials that Dan couldn't begin to identify, some wood, and a great deal of insulation. There was no possible way for anyone inside the panic room to hear what was happening outside of it.

Which made it all the more disturbing when they heard soft scratching through the walls.

Cannibal had found the edge of the panic room. It was impossible for him not to; the structure was simply too large to miss. His tunnel stalled outside the northern wall, where the monstrous Natural was currently running his clawed fingertips across the reinforced surface blocking his path forward. Each gentle caress left a trail of tiny scratches in the metal. Dan's veil traced them. It was obvious Cannibal wasn't trying all that hard. He was too busy savoring the moment.

Abby's extended family was panicking in a sort of controlled fashion. They'd chosen to distract themselves from their impending doom by loudly arguing with each other while the service staff milled nervously beside them. The remaining Coldwater guards had corralled them all near the exit, a simple set of retractable stairs, and were tensely awaiting word from their commander on a plan.

”The walls should hold,” the commander said with admirable steadiness. His head, though, gave away his nerves. It continuously flicked towards the wall, and the quiet scraping sounds beyond it.

Dan shook his head. ”I'm not so sure.”

”We only need to stall.”

Dan checked the time on his phone. ”For twenty more minutes. I don't know if we have that long. If Cannibal makes it inside this'll be a slaughter.”

The scratching grew louder, culminating in a harsh squeal. Dan's veil felt the outer layer of steel being peeled apart like an onion. They didn't have many options. He'd long since run out of Bartholomew's anesthetic. Cannibal had breathed it in like it was oxygen, and seemed little worse for wear. The predatory Natural was moving slowly, but that seemed more out of cruelty than any impediment.

Abby stepped forward with a look of stubborn determination. ”I can be bait.”

Both men stared at her.

”That's silly, dear,” Dan said.

”I cannot risk your life, Ms. Abigail,” the commander agreed.

Abby looked mutinous. ”You said it looked like he was after me. Well, there's an easy way to find out. I'll leave the safe room and see if he follows. He's obviously using his power to track us somehow. It's not like he can use a GPS while he's digging underground.”

Dan ignored his girlfriend's terrible plan. He looked up at the ceiling. ”Please tell me there are defenses in here.”

”Two turret emplacements,” the commander nodded, pointing them out. ”Any more would risk friendly fire incidents, and this is meant to be a sanctuary.”

Dan turned to the corner of the room, where a secondary security console had been placed. One of the guards was monitoring the cameras, but the grounds seemed empty.