Brianna dashed down the steps, now slick with blood— human and insect.
She cut the first tongue and the other two reeled back defensively.
“Flip ’em!”
“Trying,” Caine said through gritted teeth. He turned one over but the bugs were learning fast. A second bug charged the first, slid beneath it, and heaved its brother back over onto his legs.
“Oh, no, we don’t do that,” Brianna said.
Caine had to back away again as the creatures charged. If they caught Caine, then the battle was over.
Brianna raced, grabbed Caine’s arm, and yanked him to temporary safety behind a tree.
Cuh-runch!
A bug mandible sliced the tree straight through.
Caine lifted and flipped the creature, but now the swarm was converging.
“They’ll follow us,” Caine yelled to Brianna.
“I noticed.”
“Gas station,” Caine gasped. He was already running, flat out, arms pumping. Brianna caught up easily. The bugs surged after them, crowding the street.
“You understand?” Caine gasped.
“Not much gas left there,” Brianna said.
“Go!” Caine yelled, and Brianna zoomed away. She reached the gas station. There was a heavy padlock on the pump and, to her utter amazement, one of Albert’s people sitting there guarding it.
“Unlock it!” she yelled.
“I can’t unless Albert . . . ,” the kid started to say until Brianna laid her knife against his throat and said, “Really no time for chitchat.”
He unlocked the pump. Brianna grabbed the handle—the hand pump was the only way—and worked it as fast as she could. Unfortunately it wasn’t the kind of thing that worked better at superspeed.
She grabbed the guard and yelled, “You—pump! Pump unless you want to die.”
“I don’t have a tank to put it in!”
“On the ground,” Brianna said. “On the ground. All over the place. Pump it!”
Gas gushed in irregular spurts from the pump and splashed onto the concrete.
Brianna zoomed back to find Caine laboring hard and barely staying ahead as he reached the highway. Out in the open the bugs would be able to use all their speed and catch him long before he reached the station.
“Keep running!” she yelled.
She dashed straight at the foremost of the creatures. It snapped at her with its tongue. She grabbed the tongue in midair and, holding on to it as hard as she could, she dived beneath the creature’s legs.
The bug stumbled and came to a halt, confused. Brianna released the tongue, scooted madly beneath the creature, and came out through its hind legs. She had bought Caine maybe three seconds. No more.
She took aim at the demonic ruby eyes of the next bug, fired at point-blank range, and blew back to the gas station.
She zipped past the panicky guard, who was still busily pouring precious gasoline out on the ground.
Inside what had once been the gas station’s mini-mart, Brianna searched frantically through trash and debris before coming up, triumphant, with a blue Bic lighter.
Outside she saw Caine, still barely ahead of his pursuers.
“Get outta here, kid!” she yelled to the guard. “Ruuun!”
The smell of gasoline was overpowering. It flowed in dark little streams across the parking area, filling seams in the concrete, forming shallow pools in low spots.
Caine raced past, feet splashing through the gasoline.
Brianna smiled.
The leading wave of the creatures hit the gas station, needle-sharp legs stabbing at tiny rivers of unleaded gas.
The fumes filled the air.
Brianna knew something about speed. She knew that the Hollywood thing where people outrun explosions was nonsense. Not even the Breeze could outrun a fireball.
But there was standing around in the middle of a fire, and then there was blowing through it at the speed of sound. There wouldn’t be an explosion, not right away.
It should work. Especially with a little cover.
She hid behind a pump and let the first creature draw level. She wheeled, flicked the lighter, and dodged in front of the bug as it ran by.
Whooooosh!
It wasn’t a dynamite explosion. But it was definitely a fire-ball.
A wave of heat singed her hair and eyebrows. A blast wave of pressure that popped Brianna’s ears. But the bug’s bulk had shielded her from the worst of it.
The leading creature reached Caine, but he had thrown himself into the air and the fireball, the creature, and Brianna all rocketed past beneath him.
As he fell he flipped the bug over.
Three of the creatures were caught in the fireball. Fire curled their antennae and cracked their brittle shells.
Two of the creatures were far enough back to dodge around the fire but the heat and the smoke had confused them. They moved away but not fast enough.
The fire crept down the pump hose, down to meet the heavy gas vapor in the massive underground tank.
Ka-BOOOM!
Pumps, concrete, shelter, mini-mart, and the creatures exploded in a fireball that made the first blast look like a damp firecracker.
Insect parts, twisted metal, and chunks of concrete rained down.
Only the lead bug was still alive. It lay on its back, kicking in the air.
Brianna sank her knife into its chin, inserted her shotgun, and said, “When you get to hell tell the gaiaphage the Breeze says, ‘Hi!’” She pumped two rounds into the creature and its head blew apart like a smashed watermelon.
Chapter Forty-One
13 MINUTES
ORC SMASHED HIS bottle against the blue-eyed bug’s head. It did nothing. He hadn’t thought it would.
She cut the first tongue and the other two reeled back defensively.
“Flip ’em!”
“Trying,” Caine said through gritted teeth. He turned one over but the bugs were learning fast. A second bug charged the first, slid beneath it, and heaved its brother back over onto his legs.
“Oh, no, we don’t do that,” Brianna said.
Caine had to back away again as the creatures charged. If they caught Caine, then the battle was over.
Brianna raced, grabbed Caine’s arm, and yanked him to temporary safety behind a tree.
Cuh-runch!
A bug mandible sliced the tree straight through.
Caine lifted and flipped the creature, but now the swarm was converging.
“They’ll follow us,” Caine yelled to Brianna.
“I noticed.”
“Gas station,” Caine gasped. He was already running, flat out, arms pumping. Brianna caught up easily. The bugs surged after them, crowding the street.
“You understand?” Caine gasped.
“Not much gas left there,” Brianna said.
“Go!” Caine yelled, and Brianna zoomed away. She reached the gas station. There was a heavy padlock on the pump and, to her utter amazement, one of Albert’s people sitting there guarding it.
“Unlock it!” she yelled.
“I can’t unless Albert . . . ,” the kid started to say until Brianna laid her knife against his throat and said, “Really no time for chitchat.”
He unlocked the pump. Brianna grabbed the handle—the hand pump was the only way—and worked it as fast as she could. Unfortunately it wasn’t the kind of thing that worked better at superspeed.
She grabbed the guard and yelled, “You—pump! Pump unless you want to die.”
“I don’t have a tank to put it in!”
“On the ground,” Brianna said. “On the ground. All over the place. Pump it!”
Gas gushed in irregular spurts from the pump and splashed onto the concrete.
Brianna zoomed back to find Caine laboring hard and barely staying ahead as he reached the highway. Out in the open the bugs would be able to use all their speed and catch him long before he reached the station.
“Keep running!” she yelled.
She dashed straight at the foremost of the creatures. It snapped at her with its tongue. She grabbed the tongue in midair and, holding on to it as hard as she could, she dived beneath the creature’s legs.
The bug stumbled and came to a halt, confused. Brianna released the tongue, scooted madly beneath the creature, and came out through its hind legs. She had bought Caine maybe three seconds. No more.
She took aim at the demonic ruby eyes of the next bug, fired at point-blank range, and blew back to the gas station.
She zipped past the panicky guard, who was still busily pouring precious gasoline out on the ground.
Inside what had once been the gas station’s mini-mart, Brianna searched frantically through trash and debris before coming up, triumphant, with a blue Bic lighter.
Outside she saw Caine, still barely ahead of his pursuers.
“Get outta here, kid!” she yelled to the guard. “Ruuun!”
The smell of gasoline was overpowering. It flowed in dark little streams across the parking area, filling seams in the concrete, forming shallow pools in low spots.
Caine raced past, feet splashing through the gasoline.
Brianna smiled.
The leading wave of the creatures hit the gas station, needle-sharp legs stabbing at tiny rivers of unleaded gas.
The fumes filled the air.
Brianna knew something about speed. She knew that the Hollywood thing where people outrun explosions was nonsense. Not even the Breeze could outrun a fireball.
But there was standing around in the middle of a fire, and then there was blowing through it at the speed of sound. There wouldn’t be an explosion, not right away.
It should work. Especially with a little cover.
She hid behind a pump and let the first creature draw level. She wheeled, flicked the lighter, and dodged in front of the bug as it ran by.
Whooooosh!
It wasn’t a dynamite explosion. But it was definitely a fire-ball.
A wave of heat singed her hair and eyebrows. A blast wave of pressure that popped Brianna’s ears. But the bug’s bulk had shielded her from the worst of it.
The leading creature reached Caine, but he had thrown himself into the air and the fireball, the creature, and Brianna all rocketed past beneath him.
As he fell he flipped the bug over.
Three of the creatures were caught in the fireball. Fire curled their antennae and cracked their brittle shells.
Two of the creatures were far enough back to dodge around the fire but the heat and the smoke had confused them. They moved away but not fast enough.
The fire crept down the pump hose, down to meet the heavy gas vapor in the massive underground tank.
Ka-BOOOM!
Pumps, concrete, shelter, mini-mart, and the creatures exploded in a fireball that made the first blast look like a damp firecracker.
Insect parts, twisted metal, and chunks of concrete rained down.
Only the lead bug was still alive. It lay on its back, kicking in the air.
Brianna sank her knife into its chin, inserted her shotgun, and said, “When you get to hell tell the gaiaphage the Breeze says, ‘Hi!’” She pumped two rounds into the creature and its head blew apart like a smashed watermelon.
Chapter Forty-One
13 MINUTES
ORC SMASHED HIS bottle against the blue-eyed bug’s head. It did nothing. He hadn’t thought it would.
