and deadly.
I fought for control.
I felt Casey stiffen beside me. The fear was coming back to her now,
rising off me, infecting her. I had only seconds before we'd both be
useless for anything but a blind run, and there was no running from
that monster. From the woman maybe. But not from him.
To my left was a large round stone. One long step away.
I handed her the pitchfork. I saw a moment of confusion on her face
and then I saw she trusted me. She winced as she tucked the axe handle
under her wounded arm. We were too close to them to let it fall. She
hefted the pitchfork and braced the handle under her shoulder, pointing
it toward him, holding it like a lance. I listened for the sounds its
jaws made, the scrape of teeth against bone. I remembered counting in
the dark, how hard it was to hear over the internal sounds. It would
be the same for them. That would cover me.
I heard what I wanted to hear and took the step.
The stone was heavy, wet and slimy on the bottom. My leg tore
painfully as I bent to lift it. But the weight felt good in my
hands.
I was lucky. The rock was standing free of other stones and lifting it
hadn't made a sound. The animal feasted on, oblivious to everything
but the blood smell and the eating sounds, nearly sated with pleasure.
The woman crooned and stroked, smoothing the short thick hair that
gleamed in the light of the moon.
I guess I'd pictured leaning over him and crushing his skull. But that
was impossible. I couldn't risk another step toward him. There were
too many stones between me and him to warn him. He was four-and-a-half
feet long. I wasn't even sure I could throw the rock that far, much
less hope to hit his skull with any accuracy.
He stood straight legged on all fours, legs splayed slightly, neck and
head down, back arched. I studied him. The back was vulnerable. Not
to pitchforks, but to weight.
So I knew what I had to do.
I didn't even breathe.
I was a million years old. A caveman in the moonlight.
I raised it. It must have weighed thirty-five pounds. I pulled
together every inch of muscle. I arched my back and bent my arms at
the elbow and then snapped forward- the rock and me with it.
The rock arced down.
It looked right.
I wondered if I'd catch Mary's hand in there.
I hit the bad leg much too hard. I stumbled, fell.
There was a snapping sound like rock against rock and I felt a sudden
rush of despair. I heard Casey call my name. I hit solidly with both
hands in front of me. Something roared beside me. I felt the heat of
its body terribly near my face and head, smelled its raw moist
breath.
I rolled over. Stones bruised my back and thighs. Suddenly I was
staring into the enormous snapping mouth only inches away, spraying me
with spittle, sounds like shots from a pistol- and beneath it, that
immense ungodly roar. Casey screamed and the head jerked away from
me.
She'd used the pitchfork.
Two of the tines had entered its neck at the shoulder. She was strong
and she'd sunk them deep.
The body whipped around.
I saw where the rock had hit him. His back legs were dragging, as
useless as Casey's arm. I felt a savage flush of pleasure. We'd
broken him, skewered him. Casey held on.
The woman was on her feet and moving toward them.
I lunged at her, grabbed her by the legs and pulled her down. The legs
felt scaly in my hands, dry as leather. The woman whirled and shrieked
at me, pounding me with her hands. I saw her face. Eyes dark and
glittering. A crone's face, a Halloween mask, pointed, webbed and
shrill. Waves of foam spilling out of her toothless mouth, over her
chin. Her breath a reek of corpses.
Beside me the dog whipped side to side. And still Casey held the
pitchfork, leaning her weight into the handle, sinking it deeper.
Leaning in too far.
The dog screamed, dug in with his front paws and heaved. His shoulder
muscles rippled, his eyes tossed and rolled. I knew what he was going
to do. It was impossible but I saw it coming. I tried to warn her.
"Casey! Drop it!"
I reached for a rock. I pulled myself up over the woman until I
straddled her. Brittle claws broke off along my cheek. I felt the
blood
well up. I saw her dark eyes close a split second before I hit her.
The nose broke open. The cheekbones fell away at a strange, sunken
angle The legs kicked and trembled. I looked up.
The dog heaved.
The muscles in his neck were thick and hard as rigging. The pain must
have been amazing but there was nothing in him but a crazy meanness
now. I could see Casey's grip faltering on the pitchfork. The dog
lurched toward her, sinking it deeper. He got it into him good and
solid and then he jerked it away from her as though she were a child in
a bad match of tug-of-war.
He got free of her.
And then he hauled himself toward her.
At her. A fast, drunken lunge. While she struggled for balance.
I was on my feet, trying to get to him on the other side, to the handle
of the pitchfork, to push it so far into him that it would stop him. It
quivered like a bowstring. My foot slowed me down.
Just enough.
I had my hands on the handle as he went for her again and even the
crippled arm worked somehow as she tried to fend him off, the immense
heavy bulk of him that tore up high into her neck below the chin and
ripped her apart and covered them both with ash ower of hri0ht hloorl
I screamed.
The animal pulled her down, its right front paw tearing four long
gashes from the base of her neck to her stomach.
I don't even think she felt them.
But I did.
I had the handle by then. I had it and I used it. I was screeching
with rage and pain and I pushed, screamed and pushed with all my
strength, the image of her open mouth and eyes searing into my brain.
The animal let go of her and tried to shake me, just as it had done to
her. It thrashed at me. Snapped. Pulled. But I was crazy then, and
I was using two good hands instead of one and I stayed on, riding him
on the end of a long sharp stick, pressing it deeper with a power I
never knew I had, riding him down into the night.
There was blood rolling off his shoulder and I saw it change suddenly
from a dark ooze to a bright arterial spray. And then he was more than
even my rage and hatred could contain.
He hit one side of the cave and then the other. The mouth foamed and
spilled. The useless hind legs began to twitch. Its howling chilled
me to the bone.
A moment later the massive head turned upward one last time. The mouth
opened and closed as though baying at the far unseen moon. Its head
moved slowly down. Its cloudy eyes froze like small round stones.
I went to Casey.
I had to crawl. My body was trembling with exhaustion and something
else, something close to shock. I felt myself moving in and out of
reality as though a drug were working in me. I would see her there
just beyond me, blue eyes open wide, lips parted. I'd see the tides of