Game Over (16 page)

Despite the weakness in her arms, Molly managed to swing the sword again—once, twice—forcing the snarling creatures back. But an instant later, her blade struck the blade of a Boar and she lost her grip on the weapon. The sword went flying out of her hands, fell to the forest floor, and vanished.

The Harpy came at her with a shriek. Unarmed, Molly let out a shriek of her own. She raised her hands, ready to fight with just her nails and teeth if she had to, but she knew it would make no difference. She knew the end had come.

The Harpy, its terrible face frozen in a cry of blood-lust and rage, rushed down at her, its razor claws sweeping through the air. Molly caught the thing by the throat with one hand. Caught the slashing arm by the wrist with the other. Hurled the beast into the Cobras, making their slithery, bony bodies dodge to the side, halting their advance.

Then the creatures charged and swept over her. She was overpowered. On instinct, she threw her hands over her head and fell to her knees, waiting to die.

A second passed. Another second. She felt the presence of the monsters all around her. She heard their growls and snarls and screams. But they didn't fall on her. She didn't die. She couldn't understand it.

Molly lowered her hands and looked up.

The mob of monsters was still there. They towered
over her. But they had turned away from her. She saw their backs—the backs of the Boars and the Cobras. They were all facing away from her. Even when another Harpy materialized out of the forest sky and swept down screaming, it did not sweep down on her.

The monsters were battling something behind them. Something—someone—had engaged them in a deadly melee. Molly watched, astonished, as first one, then another, then another of the creatures flashed purple and vanished. Even as new monsters rose up to take the places of the fallen, the ranks of the creatures began to thin. A few seconds more, and Molly could see through the mob to its center.

And there was Victor One.

He was a horrifying sight. His face was gray and green. His eyes were streaked with red. His old wound had opened and the front of his shirt was stained nearly black with blood. He had a piece of wood in his hand—one of the boards from the crates inside the truck. The board had nails sticking out of one end and V-One was using one hand to swing and jab with it expertly. With his other hand he grabbed and struck and slashed. The Boars fell at his feet. The Cobras exploded. The Harpies spiraled out of the air like crashing planes. Every second Molly watched, another of the creatures flashed and died and vanished under Victor One's assault.

“Get in the truck!” he shouted at her, never stopping his attack for a moment. “Get in the truck and go!”

Molly hesitated. She looked around her quickly. More monsters were springing out of the earth, materializing out of the sky. She hated to leave Victor One alone in this battle, but he was right: if she didn't move, she and her father would be swarmed and killed. If she could get the truck moving, maybe she could pull V-One on board and they could all escape together.

“Go, go, go!” he shouted.

Molly obeyed him. The Cobras who had stood in her way were gone. She leapt to the truck. She climbed into the driver's seat, pulling the door shut behind her. She wrestled the gear shift into neutral. She reached for the ignition. Would it start? It had to. It had to.

She hit the ignition. She hit the gas. The engine whined. It fought to engage. It coughed. But no . . .

She tried again. Again, it whined and coughed—and then, yes, it started!

But too late. Boars and Cobras continued springing out of the ground all around her. Harpies appeared in midair and dove at the windshield. In an instant the truck was surrounded with monsters, even as Victor One tried to fight them off outside.

Molly put the truck in reverse. She stepped on the gas. She tried to back through the attacking creatures. But they swarmed over the vehicle. They hit it hard. The engine sputtered and died again. The truck stopped still. The creatures hammered at it, rocking it back and forth. Cracks spider-webbed over the windshield. The driver's window
began to cave in. Molly tried to start the truck again, but it wouldn't happen.

She looked at her father. He stared back helplessly. She looked all around her.

The creatures were everywhere.

23. RESCUE QUEST

RICK RUSHED TO
the door of the hospital barracks and looked out. The scene in the compound was incredible to see. Monsters blooming out of the earth. Monsters flashing out of the empty air. Soldiers shooting at the creatures with rifles. Stabbing at them with bayonets and combat knives. But for each creature that fell to earth, shrieking and flashing and disappearing, another grew up in its place. New soldiers were charging across the compound to join the fight, but there were only so many of them, and the monsters might appear forever. Already, as Rick watched, the soldiers were falling back and the monsters pushing forward. Soon, the soldiers would be swarmed and overcome.

Rick didn't hesitate. Ignoring the pain in his legs, he started running. Somehow he had to stop this. Somehow he knew he could, knew that he was the only one who could. He didn't feel Kurodar using him as a portal, but that had to be what was happening. Nothing else made sense. The Realm was inside him now . . .

But it wasn't the only thing inside him. His spirit was
there and his spirit could control the Realm. He knew that. His spirit could control the shape of things there. If he could somehow take hold of the inner portal. If he could somehow close that portal down . . .

Rick drew near to the heart of the battle—so near that a Cobra sprang up beside him, baring the fangs in its skull, ready to strike. Rick struck first, with a huge roundhouse punch. His fist smacked full force into the side of the Cobra's head. The snake's black eyes went milky white. It dropped sideways to the earth. It flickered. Flashed. It was gone.

And Rick turned to the rest of them.

With the melee noisy and bloody all around him, it was no easy thing to bring his focus to bear. But that was part of who he was, what he could do. He went inside himself. He narrowed his attention to a pinpoint, like a beam of light. He looked deep into his own spirit . . .

And there it was. Hidden away in him, like a secret sin. He saw it now. The link to the darkness of the Realm that had somehow become lodged in his own brain, the passage that linked him to Kurodar's evil.

With all the force of his spirit, he willed the portal to close.

He could feel it happening. It was like the stone eye of a giant idol slowly shutting, the lid slowly lowering. He could not shut the gap forever, but he could shut it for now, hold it fast for a little while, at least.

With a sort of inner thud, it shut. He felt it.

And almost at once, he saw the monsters stop appearing. The ones who were already there remained, fighting the battle, but no more Boars and Cobras grew out of the ground, no more Harpies materialized in the sky. He had closed the portal.

With no more monster reinforcements, the harried soldiers of the compound began to turn the tide of battle. They fired their automatic weapons in short bursts. Harpies dropped out of the air, shrieking. Boars squealed and fell and died. Rotting Cobras exploded in blasts of white bone. Step-by-slow-step, the soldiers began to move forward, driving the creatures back against the fence.

Rick looked round him, searching for a weapon with which to join the fight. As he turned, he saw a commotion out beyond the compound, at the edge of the woods on the other side of the half-open gate.

A mob of dead, half-rotten creatures had gathered there. They were swarming over something. What was it? A truck. The monsters mobbed it, threw themselves at it, crawled over the top of it, attacked it again and again. They looked like ants devouring a sugar cube.

A truck . . .,
Rick thought.

He felt something darken in his heart. Wasn't a transport truck coming to collect Molly and Professor Jameson this morning?

As the soldiers and monsters fought one another at the compound's perimeter, Rick began moving through the chaos. He went slowly at first, trying to see what was going
on out in the woods, what was at the heart of that swarm of creatures out there. But as the thought of Molly kept coming back to him, his footsteps quickened. Soon he was running again, running toward the gate.

A fallen soldier lay on the ground in his path. Wounded, bloody, but still breathing, his arm was lifted to his face, the back of his hand resting on his forehead. His automatic rifle lay beside him in the dirt. The strap was broken and lay twisted in the dirt like a green snake.

Rick barely broke stride as he reached down and snapped the rifle up. He readied it to fire as he went on running toward the truck.

He came through the gate. He had a good view of what was happening now. The truck was damaged, stalled. It had obviously crashed into the nearby pine tree. He could see the damage in the tree's bark. There was glass on the forest floor and what Rick could see of the truck's fender was dented. Harpies and Boars and Cobras were hammering at the cab again and again, trying to break in through the windows and windshield. Harpies were tearing at the canvas that covered the flatbed in back. Some of the snakes were trying to slither in over the rear gate, but every time they tried, something beat them back.

It was another few steps before Rick could make out Victor One, battle-mad, blood-soaked, wildly swinging a two-by-four to keep the creatures off the truck.

But the Harpies were up above him, out of his reach. They were on top of the vehicle, shredding the canvas
covering. Soon they would come through and attack the cab from the rear.

Rick raised the rifle chest-high and opened fire. He had to be careful not to hit the people in the truck so he aimed at the edges of the monster mob, and let off only a short three-bullet blast at a time. He went for the Harpies on the canvas first. The bullets tore into their gray, rotting flesh. The winged woman-like things flew back into the air, shrieking and sparking. One vanished midair. Another dropped writhing and flashing to the ground and then was gone.

Rick fired again. And again. A Cobra's head exploded. A Boar fell to the earth wounded. He pulled the trigger again—and nothing. A useless click. The magazine was empty, the bullets gone.

Rick tossed the gun away. The wounded Boar still lay on the ground, the purple bolts of lightning zigzagging through him. His sword lay beside him, shimmering with purple light. Rick rushed for the sword. Grabbed it. His energy recharged it. The purple lightning went out. The sword grew solid in his hand. He raised it above his head and let out a wild battle cry. He charged into the fight, swinging the blade.

Victor One heard Rick's cry; he saw Rick charge. His pale face broke into a ghastly grin. His arms seemed to gain fresh strength as he fought the creatures all around him.

Molly saw Rick come too. She had been fighting tears of terror as she tried to start the truck again. But now she
let the ignition go and grabbed the door handle. As the Boars and Cobras launched themselves at her windows, she let out a yell and threw the door open and slammed it into them. Once, twice—sending two attackers flying. And as a Harpy tried to reach in and tear at her, she slammed the door on its clawed hand.

In the next moment, though, a Cobra hit the window and the glass caved in, the sharp, dangerous shards falling toward her. Molly reeled back in her seat, covering her face with her raised arms. When she looked again, the Cobra was right outside, ready to strike through the opening, through the space above the jagged shards in the bottom of the window frame. Its head darted in on her, its dagger-fangs bared. Its jaws snapped shut—just missing her as she leaned back desperately against her father. The Cobra began to withdraw for a fresh strike. Molly swallowed her disgust and launched herself forward. She used both hands to grab the thing. She slammed its head down onto the jagged glass. The Cobra let out a hissy gasp as the sharp shards pierced its underjaw. Molly saw the purple lightning flash inside it. Then it was gone.

Inspired by his daughter, cheered by Rick's charge, amazed at the courage and power of Victor One, Professor Jameson had taken up the fight as well. He wasn't exactly a warrior personality, but an old expression came into his mind—
Needs must when the devil drives
—which means, “When evil is on the march, you do what you have to do.” He did what he had to do. He glanced at Molly. He saw
her battle strategy. He threw his own door open with all his might and smashed a charging Boar in its pink nose. The Boar went down, but the window cracked and a large section of glass, smooth on one side and blade-like on the other, fell into the professor's lap. He picked the glass up with both hands and when a Harpy arced out of the air and came through the window at him, he jammed it into her shrieking face. Her claws scratched his arms painfully, but the glass destroyed her and she sparked and fell away.

Rick and Victor One were fighting side by side now. Rick felt himself filled with a weird furious superstrength, like Jonathan in the Bible when he attacked the Philistines single-handed or like Mega Man X when his charge meter is full. He was hacking through the mob of monsters as a scytheman carves through wheat. And V-One, who had gotten hold of a Boar sword himself now, was doing the same.

Cobras, Boars, and Harpies flew back and fell on every side of the two warriors. Monsters were lying all over the forest floor, purple lightning lancing through them as they twisted in their death throes before they disappeared. A final Boar came rushing toward Molly's window, its sword point lowered to deliver a killing thrust. It never reached her. Rick let out an animal roar and brought his own blade down atop the creature's head. Rick was so pumped with battle power that the edge of the sword cut all the way down to the Boar's collarbone before the thing vanished from in front of him.