“Sam went on alone,” he choked out.
Fear seized Katelynn’s heart in its stony grip.
Damon indicated the radio on his belt with a feeble motion. “Call for backup. Then follow Sam.” He appeared to want to say more, but choked on his own blood and had to turn away to cough it free. That motion alone exhausted him. He slumped back down, barely conscious.
Katelynn didn’t think he would make it until help arrived.
She took the radio from his belt and pressed the switch. “Hello? Hello? This is Katelynn Riley. The sheriff has been stabbed and needs medical help. We’re at the university, in Keating Hall.”
Questioning voices came back over the air, but Katelynn ignored them. She didn’t have time to answer any of their questions; Sam could be dying as well. She had to try to help him. Taking up Damon’s gun, she left him lying there on the floor and started making her way toward the door.
Inch by painful inch, she closed in on her destination.
Sam had been as confused by Damon’s actions as Katelynn; but he’d kept his eyes firmly on the Nightshade and was in a position to see the beast back toward the door on the far side of the room at the moment of Hudson Blake’s arrival. It was as if the two were working in tandem, and the beast had just left the unpleasant duty to his subordinate.
After all they’d been through, the Nightshade’s dismissal only served to send Sam’s anger past the boiling point.
He knew Katelynn and Damon were in trouble, knew that if he didn’t do something to help them, they probably wouldn’t survive; but he also knew he could not let the beast escape. He chose to act.
He shoved one hand into the pack he was carrying. One part of his mind flashed on the utter insanity involved in attacking a beast of such bloodthirsty savagery with nothing more powerful than glass jars filled with a mixture of gasoline and powdered soap flakes, while the other cocked his arm and hurled the jar at Moloch’s rapidly retreating form.
Sam’s aim was true.
The jar struck Moloch on the wide expanse of his right wing as he was turning away through the door on the other side of the room. The glass broke under the impact, spraying the beast with the gelatinous mixture within.
Sam already had another jar in hand when the beast stopped and turned its attention back in his direction.
Sam immediately threw the second jar, then watched in dismay, as it smashed harmlessly against the stone arch of the doorway, and the beast disappeared from sight.
Without taking time to think, Sam took off after the Nightshade. He’d crossed the room and was reaching for the door when his ears were filled with the explosive echoes of a gunshot. A sharp cry of pain followed immediately thereafter.
Sam knew the source of that cry.
Katelynn.
For just a moment, he almost stopped. Almost looked back to see what had happened, to discern what had caused his friend to cry out in pain. But Moloch had disappeared through the door ahead of him, and Sam knew that if he didn’t catch up with him they very well might lose him.
He couldn’t allow that to happen.
“God forgive me,” he whispered in anguish as he pushed his way through the door without stopping, never once looking back.
Stepping through the door, Sam found himself in the room that formed the base of the clock tower. The walls rose high into the darkness, where somewhere up above the clock and bellworks had once hung. They were long gone, he knew, victims of the ravages of time and lack of money. The stone walls had been designed with great archways to provide access to the roof proper and to let the sound of the bells free of the chamber. From where he stood Sam could see through several of the arches.
Moloch was nowhere in sight.
The room itself was fairly large. The Nighshade could not have crossed it that quickly.
Which meant it had to have gone upward.
As the thought occurred to him a warm breeze danced across his skin, and Sam’s response was near instantaneous.
With reflexes boosted high with fear-induced adrenaline, Sam threw himself diagonally forward, slamming his body violently into the stone flooring underfoot, his right arm outstretched in an effort to protect the mason jar clutched in that hand. Seconds later the Nightshade’s deadly talons raked the air where he’d been standing milliseconds before.
Giving forth a loud, piercing cry, the beast disappeared into the darkness.
Sam scrambled to his feet, using his other hand to pull the roadside flare from his pocket.
The Nightshade will try again,he thought,and this time I’ll be ready.
The attack came only seconds later.
This time Sam knew what was coming, and heard the shrill whistle in the air as the Nightshade’s body dropped from high above.
Sam waited, his body tense with anticipation.
Now he could see the dark form above, growing larger with each passing second as the distance between them lessened.
Still, he waited.
Sam could imagine those claws, stretched out, ready to sink into his skin. Instead of running, he simply raised his arms closer to one another and triggered the flare he held in his left hand.
Then he thrust its burning end into the open mouth of the mason jar he held in his hand.
The mixture inside ignited lightning-quick, and flames shot up out of the jar’s mouth.
Cocking his arm, knowing death was only scant feet away, Sam heaved the bottle with all his might directly at the beast.
The bottle struck the Nightshade in the middle of its chest, shattering the glass and spreading the burning mixture across its flesh.
Screaming in surprise and pain, the beast was diverted from its attack, crashing clumsily into the stone floor.
Sam yanked the last jar from his pack.
The creature was less than six feet away. Its hide was awash in flame, the mixture sticking to its skin and igniting what was left from Sam’s first attack. It screamed again in rage and pain, then slowly began to climb to its feet.
“Die, damn you! Die!” Sam screamed.
Again using the flare as an igniter, he threw the last bottle.
His luck held, the bottle struck the beast across the side of the head, and it collapsed, its body covered with a raging fire.
Sam heard a cry behind him and turned to see Katelynn crawling through the doorway. He rushed to her side but before he could ask her what had happened to her and Damon, Katelynn pointed over his shoulder, and gasped, “Look!”
42
INFERNO
Somehow, the beast had climbed to its feet.
Katelynn and Sam watched in fascinated horror as the Nightshade took one step toward the roof’s edge, then another.
And another.
The flames were burning fiercely, the homemade napalm smeared across most of the creature’s torso. The frantic beating of its wings simply fanned the flames, adding to its own destruction.
But they could see that it wasn’t burning quickly enough.
While the heat was intense, the fire had not spread to the rest of the creature’s body, burning only where the gasoline mixture had soaked into the skin. With its supernatural healing, Moloch would survive the burns if he found some way of putting out the flames before they consumed him.
The beast took a fourth step.
A fifth.
Each step brought it closer to freedom.
Crouched against the far wall, using his body to shield Katelynn from the heat, Sam realized what the creature was going to do. Once it reached the edge of the roof, it would launch itself into the open air. While the wind of its flight might fan the flames, it would also allow the beast to reach the river on the other side of campus. Once there, it could plunge beneath the river’s surface, extinguishing the flames and finding a place to hide. There it would have the safety to gather its strength and slowly heal itself.