The snake's gaping jaws were wide enough to engulf Lori's entire skull, and a tiny glistening bead of poison hung from the needle points of the fangs. It had reared up, at least six feet high, above the screaming girl, its shadow across her body.
Ryan's H&K G-12 was up and ready, braced against his hip, aimed at the spade-shaped head of the reptile. But his finger held still on the trigger of the powerful blaster.
"No!" Doc shrieked from just behind him, his voice so unexpectedly loud that Ryan nearly let rip with the automatic.
"Why not?"
"It'll fall on her and the child'll be instant grave fodder."
It was unmistakably true. The rattler was so gigantic that it hung over Lori, menacing her, its head weaving slowly to and fro. The warning rattle of its tail continued unabated.
The girl seemed almost paralyzed, like a rabbit in the lights of a night wag. She was on her back, legs drawn up, one hand lifted as though she could simply push away the monster snake. Her mouth was open and she was crying out, a string of pleading, helpless words.
"Could try and take its head off?" J.B. suggested.
The rattler was about thirty yards away from the group, its eyes registering their presence. But most of its attention was fixed on the blond girl beneath it.
"Hell of a chance it'd chill her before we could chill it," Ryan replied.
Rick Ginsberg had joined them, panting hard, one hand clamped to his side. His eyes were round with disbelief. "Is that?.. You never said a word about sci-fi monsters, Ryan. It's a dream. A nightmare! It'll kill the girl, unless..."
"Shut fuck up!" Jak snapped, hefting one of his throwing knives, gripping it by the weighted hilt. "Could hit eye, Ryan?"
"No," Doc said despairingly. "A clean kill or drive it away."
For several racing heartbeats nobody moved or spoke. The snake's head kept up its hypnotic swaying, and Lori began to weep uncontrollably.
Ryan, keeping his voice low, spoke to the others. "Got to go for the head with blasters. All at once. Should manage to splatter it apart."
"I forbid it, Ryan," Doc whispered, his left hand playing nervously with an errant strand of hair. "The risk is too great."
"You got a better idea? If not, then we'll do it like..."
"Help me, please," Lori called, her voice barely audible above the harsh noise of the snake's rattle.
"Yes," Doc said suddenly. "Distraction. I'll distract the beast and you can then do the shooting part."
Without another word, the old man was off and running, waving the walking cane in his right hand, fumbling as he ran with the silver handle, discarding the ebony case to bare the steel rapier blade within it.
"The double-stupe old!.." Ryan exploded, taken by surprise. "Get ready to try and chill the mutie!"
Everyone drew their own blasters, ready to open fire at Ryan's order, aiming at the blunt, questing head of the rattler.
"Come, thou mighty worm, Ouroboros!" Doc shouted, trying to attract the bright, soulless eyes from Lori toward himself. He leaped into the air and brandished his sword.
Slowly, incuriously, the snake peered down at him, its rattle slowing to a menacing, vibrating hum. It lifted its head even higher, retreating a little, the smooth coils of muscle tensing.
"Going t'strike," J.B. warned.
Lori had fallen silent, looking around at the bizarre capering figure in his stained frock coat and cracked knee boots. The sword flashed crimson as it caught the last rays of the dying sun. Doc darted in and thrust at the nearest part of the giant snake, bringing his rapier back dripping dark blood. But the rattler didn't move its head, and its eyes were unflickering.
Ryan had leveled his G-12, aiming at a point a hand's span below the jaw. He could actually see the tiny ruby glow from the laser sight on J.B.'s new MP-7 SD-8, an inch or so higher than where he was aiming. Jak's Magnum and Krysty's P7A-13 pistol were also focused on the creature's head and neck.
"Ready," Ryan whispered.
"Avaunt, creature from pitchiest night!" Doc yelled, encouraged by the success of his first assault.
The mutie rattler's stunning speed took them all by surprise.
Before anyone could even tighten a finger on a trigger, the snake had weaved back and then struck, its head a blur of movement.
By the sheerest fluke, Doc happened to be waving his sword in the beast's general direction, even though he was looking down at Lori. The snake virtually impaled itself on the tip of the rapier, jerking it from Doc's hand. The force of its attack knocked Doc flying to the dirt in a tangle of arms and legs. But the prick of the steel was just enough to deflect its snapping lunge at the old man.
Frustrated, hissing in fury, its tail swinging with the rattle back in overdrive, the mutie monster straightened up, ready to strike at the man and woman in its shadow.
Ryan wasn't about to take any more chances with the enormous reptile. "Now!" he yelled, squeezing the trigger of the blaster. Set on continuous, the G-12 poured out a devastating stream of lead, accompanied by J.B.'s gun on triple burst. The snap of Krysty's handgun and the boom of Jak's powerful cannon counterpointed the rippling roar of the rifles.
The head and upper throat of the great reptile simply disintegrated under the impact of thirty or forty rounds of ammunition. Blood sprayed, and a heavy, black ichor oozed from the mutilated skull of the creature. Its body began to thrash about with a fearful violence, kicking up blinding clouds of dust. Doc and Lori vanished behind the red-orange veil of sand.
"Let's get them out!" Ryan ordered, dropping his gun and darting forward, aware of the other three at his side. He noticed from the corner of his eye that even Rick Ginsberg had joined in, hobbling on his rough stick.
Lori had begun to scream again. Ryan found her first and heaved the girl to her feet, discovering that she was in shock as she collapsed helplessly to the dirt. With a grunt of effort, he managed to lift her onto his shoulders, carrying her away from the appalling noise of the monster's death throes, the demented clicking of its rattle.
Doc managed to move out on his own, clutching his arm where he'd jarred it in the fall. He had to wait until the writhing began to ease, which allowed him to go look for his swordstick. While Jak looked after Lori, calming her, the others went to examine the twitching corpse of the mutie rattler.
Its head was pulped and both eyes were gone. The main fangs had snapped off into short, splintered stumps, from which threads of poison still oozed into the dirt. The remainder of the body was moving slightly as the nerve endings began to close down on any messages.
"What's that on its neck?" J.B. asked, pointing at the silvery collar that Ryan had glimpsed a few speeded seconds earlier.
Krysty leaned over the immense body, avoiding the rattle that still vibrated with no more noise than a child's toy. "It's locked on," she said. "It'll take some cutting to get it off."
"What's the lettering say?" Ryan asked.
"A name. Can't..." The girl wiped blood away. "Yeah. Azrael. And the number twelve. That's all. Gaia! You figure it's someone's pet?"
"Could be." The Armorer turned to Ryan. "Remember that baron up north... one that had an extra pair of residual hands?"
"Yeah. Oh, sure. He had a mutie maggot as his special pet. Slept in a big wooden bed with silk sheets and got fed like a baby."
"It's a nightmare." Rick shook his head. "I know that now. You're all figments of my imagination. Inside the coolant capsule I've gone stark mad. Yeah, as mad as a hatter. Hatters were mad because they used a lot of mercury in the process of making hats. Fumes rotted their brains. Mad hatters. That's me. Rattlers as big as a semi. Maggots as pets. Redheads with pistols. Albino kids with Clint Magnums. One-eyed men and... I can't stop talking. Why's that, Ryan?"